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Description
Everything ached, everything hurt. Everything. His ankles, pendent from the threaded ropes most likely used to lead the cattle to their unfortunate demise, scored bruises from the tight wrappings. His bare chest, from which he had

been sliced- blood diluting from the sweat he produced. His bound wrists, cut from the constant rub in attempt to escape. Roy Mustang was frightened... But maybe not for his own life, or the fact he was suspended with a serial killer in the dark

and one other unknown person. Perhaps he was simply frightened by the moans and groans of pain that he could hear... Zai? Fuery? Havoc? Where were they...? But the worst... Where was Winry Rockbell?

The new, fresh wound bled against Jean Havoc's chest; making his gasp in pain as he stumbled. Everything was so dark...yet, he knew the warehouse was large; even though it was used to store simple, unneedable things. The

young man could hear the moans, the constant whimpering of humans coming in and out of the serial killers murderious grasp. Who else was here, stuck beneath the roof of a serial killers domain. Havoc thought he had seen Roy, when he tried

to investigate...Winry perhaps? Peter? No, the only thing Jean could think about was the constant pounding of the pain in his temples. "Goddamnit..." The young man swore beneath his breath, trying to wrench his wrists away; though they were tied

with a brittle rope, clinging him to the wall, revealing his ripped jacket and bare chest. Could this honestly be happening...?

Breath coming in sharp, sputtery gasps, the black haired sergeant hung limply against the chilling stone wall. His shirt had been torn and ripped at by a certain attacker- and, though his feet still just barely touched the ground, it felt as though he

was hung by his arms. The ropes were tight, like sandpaper against his wrists. The Colonel had gone missing, just a few days earlier- and the team had proposed that they all go after him. Unfortunately, they'd been split up, by a group of guards-

which was odd, considering this was an abandoned slaughterhouse- and both Lieutenant Jean Havoc and the Sergeant Major had been knocked out, and shoved in this room. The smell of rotting meat made Fuery's stomach churn- and only

worsened his gradually increasing fear of what would happen next. So far, he'd been lucky enough to avoid the more brutal beatings- but his partnered officer hadn't been so lucky; there Havoc hung, across the room (it was too dark to tell how far

away, yet Fuery could still hear his breathing), supposedly bloodied up against the wall.....

Why couldn't she stop shaking? Zai's shoulders had long since started cramping as she hung in her increasingly uncomfortable position on the wall. Her hair had been knotted up, and hooked on a hook just a little farther above than

natural, so there was a constant slight tugging on her hair. Other than that she had been roughly tied to the wall, arms stretched far above her head to the point that they were straining in their sockets. Small beads of sweat trailed down her face

and neck, before soaking into the collar of her previously white t-shirt. And the crusted blood on her arms was starting to itch. Her legs were tied to the wall as well, but not as tightly, enough that she still got blood circulation in her feet. Most of that

wasn't really concerning her at the moment, though. All of it was fixable, would heal. But what about the others? She desperately hoped that nothing permanently damaging was happening to them in the other rooms.

Terrorist-COlt: There were no lights in this slaughterhouse; the exact reason this terrorist had chosen it to disappear with his captives. But there was one in particular, whom he vowed to hide away from the world.
"Zai Kataki...."
The rotting wood that had been crafted into a door released a loud 'creeeeaaak', echoing throughout the empty cell. "I've been watching you for a while now, Zai...." She was his, and only his. The world couldn't have her; she was his... only his... only

his. "How do you like your arrangements?" His voice was a deep, gruff pitch, adding to an atmosphere filled with terror; distant wails could be heard down the hall, from another victim he'd kidnapped last week. "You're mine...."

Pain. So much pain. Winry slowly opened her eyes, hardly registering her surroundings. She felt unbelievably tired, like she had pulled one-too-many all nighters. "...Ed...? Al...?" As her eyes adjusted to the darkness around

her, she soon came to realize she hoped neither of the Elrics were anywhere near this place. A cold bolt of fear shot through the blonde mechanic. She tried to move, but found her limbs unwilling to move. Winry looked to see her wrists cuffed to

the wall and her ankles also cuffed to the wall. She struggled in a fit of blind panic, and let out a scream as the cold metal bit into the flesh of her limbs. Her struggling also ripped open a wound she had apparently accquired earlier, causing blood

to flow from her side. "Someone...anyone...help me..."

Roy shook the hair that stuck to his forehead from the blood off, trying to regain at least a LITTLE comfort in his situation, if it was only just the simple gratification of a less itchy forehead. Hot puffs of air escaped his mouth as he

slowly felt the heated blood in his system run to his head, causing dizzying black spots in his vision and his wit to be deterred... And he almost did not register the shrill scream of a certain mechanic locked in the same room as him, even then on

his hazy alert. "Hey, Winry!" he barked, spitting some of the blood out of his mouth, relief and terror hiding in underlying tones. "Shhh, it's fine, shh!" He struggled once again with the ropes bounding his wrists, hoping to break the tautly pulled

strings so he could safely go save his subordinates and Winry, to reassure himself they would all be fixed and well after this hellish night. "You're okay, they're okay," Roy grunted, ceasing his attempts as the long gash on his abdominal started to

reopen. And then a random ninja crashed through the window, shoving icecream into their wounds to which they immediately healed. Mmmn, mint chocolate flavor. And then Roy and Winry broke out together because they're so cool and

they didn't even realize they left the others behind. But the ninja came to them as well and everyone lived happily ever after.

Havoc shook his head, the blonde, tangled mat hitting his sweat covered forhead. The young mans bound wrists were beginning to sting, and he could feel a fresh line of blood trickle down his left forearm. "Fuery?" Havoc spoke, or

whispered, into the darkness, "Wait--What the hell just happened?" The blonde military man pressed his lips together, sweat traveling down his neck and onto the long gash across his chest; making it sting. Jean grunted, shifting his weight, but

that only made his raw wrists bleed more against the brittle ropes. Where's everyone else...? The young man thought, arching his head back, looking for some source of light. But there was nothing, the only thing Havoc could make out was

Fuery's harsh breathing, and the constant screams throughout the warehouse.

Fuery: Lifting his head up shakily, Kain blinked a few times against the thick darkness that engulfed the two men. Fuery had opened his mouth to reply- but fell helplessly into a ghastly bout of wheezes and cough, the bruises on his neck (after

having been strangled) and chest aching with each cough.
"Ugh... H-havoc...." When he'd applied for a job, the young cadet had never quite imagined having to go through this in his career. However- now, as a Master Sergeant.... it was almost eminent; the times, they were a-changin.... "S-sir.... the

terrorist has us b-bound up..." he rasped, clearing his throat so as not to risk another coughing fit. "D-damn it all....."

Zai's breath hissed slightly as she heard a door open. Was it someone coming to rescue her? Or the torturer returned? Several cuts on her torso and arms were already aching, and it didn't help the way her heart thundered in her

chest. A voice spoke her name, and it certainly did nothing to ease her worries. He had been watching her...? No way. No. No, please no. "Who are you...? Why... What..." Her breath quickened again as she heard the wails and screams echoing

throughout the building, "Where are my friends?" Gods, she hated how her voice shook. Hated how weak she sounded. She hissed slightly as she let her head relax for a moment, causing her hair to tug on the hook, adding to her already near

blinding headache. Why would anyone be this fixated on her, anyway? Didn't creeps like this man usually go for the perfect ones...? "Let my friends and I go..." Her voice was still shaking, dammit! How was she supposed to sound brave and

unbreakable, when her voice sounded like she could break at any second?

Colt: Chuckling softly, Colt strolled leisurably into the cell, footsteps echoing loudly against the near-silent (save for the wails) stone. Her cries.... her begs for mercy.... the terrorist just drank it up. Music to his ears, the terrified wails of women- and

one woman, in specific.
"Oh, how foolish of me- allow me to introduce myself...." As he slowly neared her, inch by inch, Colt felt the grin widening across the lower half of his face. Once he was mere feet from her, he crouched down, reaching a long, rather muscular arm

forward, and placing his fingers under her chin. "The name's Colt~"

Out of the darkness, a voice reached out to Winry, a tone as familiar as it was comforting. She felt the salty sting of tears as a surge of hope rose within her. "Roy? Is that you? You're with me?" The mechanic wished he was

closer, holding her close and telling her everything would be alright. Suddenly, fear dug its claws into the hope. If Roy was here, did that mean that he... "Are...are you okay, Roy?" Cerulean eyes dull by pain and bloodloss scanned the darkness

around her. She needed to see him, to prove his voice wasn't simply a hallucination brought on by approching death. "Where are you, Roy? You're not hurt, are you?" The sharp scent of blood was filling the air, and she didn't know if it was her

blood or his. She hoped it wasn't his. She hoped that he was okay, and that his presence meant that her time in this hell was over. "You really are here, aren't you Roy? I...I not just going crazy, am I?" Winry almost choked on the words, not wanting

to accept even the idea that she was going insane. She needed him to remind her that she existed outside of this hell. Winry was being to lose touch with her own identity. How long had she been here? Hours? Days? Weeks? Had it been months

and no one had been able to find her, or had they simply never bothered? "Please tell me you're real, Roy. Please."

Sometimes, this woman amazed him. There she was, terrified and most likely injured because HE hadn't been able to save her-- or any of them, for that matter-- and yet, the first words to come out of her mouth weren't anything

about herself or her own deadly injuries-- if she had any, which he hoped against all odds she did not. No, they had been in concern of he, the military man who probably had to have gone through far worse, than the girl who's innocence was

tainted by the unfortunate events that drew her near. In a way, he was glad it was dark. He would be able to counter a smooth lie to her statement, so she would not have to worry so much. (And, he wouldn't be able to see those horrid wounds the

bastard had undoubtedly fixed her with.) "I'm alright. Alright? Now, focus on nothing but my voice, got it? Nothing. Not any pain, not any panic, nothing else." He instructed as he grunted, ropes finally beginning to pull loose. He could feel the thread

breaking, ever so steadily... And while the strain did cause his stomach wound to fluctuate and bleed, he was making progress. He'd get her out... Everyone out. "Remember the stories you told me--" he winced, cuts on his wrists opening ever so

slightly, but progress-- "--about Ed and Al? That one... Where they cheered you up on a rainy day after school by creating a mud pie with alchemy..." And the rope snapped.

Havoc chuckled a bit, wrenching forward; a slight rip sound emitting from his jacket. The young man began to tug on his left arm, feeling his hand beginning to slip through; do to the fact it was slick with his own blood. Havoc licked

his dry lips, "No need to talk formal here, Fuery." He said, the brittle ropes digging into the new, soft flesh of his hands. Jeans eyes closed in pain, skin being so slowly ripped open; causing him to yell out, quite loudly, in pain, "GODDAMNIT!" The

room was plunged into silence as the young man pressed his lips firmly together, "Fuery...." He said, voice rough, "We're screwed, arent we?"

Fuery: Squeezing his eyes shut at Havoc's cry, the confused sergeant felt a few tears escape his lower lids. "I... i guess so, Jean..." He struggled to keep his voice from fluxuating- but damnit... they could die, here... right across from eachother, and

probably not far from the others. It was a living hell, knowing that death surrounded you, threatening to assault at any second. "S-sir....." --old habits died hard. "if we don't make it outta here alive, I just--" Another bout of coughing intterupted his,

chest burning from the combination of coughs and bruises. Fuck... fuckfuckfuckityfuck. His voice was rendered useless for a few moments, as the lump in his throat knotted up his windpipe; yet again, a few tears dripped down the sides of his face,

and he couldn't help releasing a soft whimper of fear.... "Havoc, I'm scared...."

Zai's heart seemed to pound faster and faster with each step closer the man took. Her breath came in quick gasps that were bordering on sobs at this point, which she could only imagine pleased the man. She squirmed slightly, trying

to adjust herself to relieve the pressure on her shoulders a bit. Letting out a tiny whimper, the woman realized that a cut on her leg had opened in her attempts, and she could feel the warm blood now running down her leg. And then, he touched

her, and something snapped. "Don't. Touch. Me." Her breath hissed between her teeth as she curled her lip at the man, snapping her chin away from his hand. "Let my friends go." She kept her head angled away from him, her one eye glaring

angrily out into the darkness.

Colt: Raising an eyebrow in the darkness, which his eyes had grown all too accustomed to, Colt moved his hands down to her shoulders. They were tense- probably from being tied up for so long. He couldn't help but chuckle at the prospect, as

though he'd heard a really good joke. "Come now, dear- I can be sweet~" Letting his hands fall to his side, he stood back up to full height. "When my victims cooperate, that is~"

Description
Everything ached, everything hurt. Everything. His ankles, pendent from the threaded ropes most likely used to lead the cattle to their unfortunate demise, scored bruises from the tight wrappings. His bare chest, from which he had

been sliced- blood diluting from the sweat he produced. His bound wrists, cut from the constant rub in attempt to escape. Roy Mustang was frightened... But maybe not for his own life, or the fact he was suspended with a serial killer in the dark

and one other unknown person. Perhaps he was simply frightened by the moans and groans of pain that he could hear... Zai? Fuery? Havoc? Where were they...? But the worst... Where was Winry Rockbell?

The new, fresh wound bled against Jean Havoc's chest; making his gasp in pain as he stumbled. Everything was so dark...yet, he knew the warehouse was large; even though it was used to store simple, unneedable things. The

young man could hear the moans, the constant whimpering of humans coming in and out of the serial killers murderious grasp. Who else was here, stuck beneath the roof of a serial killers domain. Havoc thought he had seen Roy, when he tried

to investigate...Winry perhaps? Peter? No, the only thing Jean could think about was the constant pounding of the pain in his temples. "Goddamnit..." The young man swore beneath his breath, trying to wrench his wrists away; though they were tied

with a brittle rope, clinging him to the wall, revealing his ripped jacket and bare chest. Could this honestly be happening...?

Breath coming in sharp, sputtery gasps, the black haired sergeant hung limply against the chilling stone wall. His shirt had been torn and ripped at by a certain attacker- and, though his feet still just barely touched the ground, it felt as though he

was hung by his arms. The ropes were tight, like sandpaper against his wrists. The Colonel had gone missing, just a few days earlier- and the team had proposed that they all go after him. Unfortunately, they'd been split up, by a group of guards-

which was odd, considering this was an abandoned slaughterhouse- and both Lieutenant Jean Havoc and the Sergeant Major had been knocked out, and shoved in this room. The smell of rotting meat made Fuery's stomach churn- and only

worsened his gradually increasing fear of what would happen next. So far, he'd been lucky enough to avoid the more brutal beatings- but his partnered officer hadn't been so lucky; there Havoc hung, across the room (it was too dark to tell how far

away, yet Fuery could still hear his breathing), supposedly bloodied up against the wall.....

Why couldn't she stop shaking? Zai's shoulders had long since started cramping as she hung in her increasingly uncomfortable position on the wall. Her hair had been knotted up, and hooked on a hook just a little farther above than

natural, so there was a constant slight tugging on her hair. Other than that she had been roughly tied to the wall, arms stretched far above her head to the point that they were straining in their sockets. Small beads of sweat trailed down her face

and neck, before soaking into the collar of her previously white t-shirt. And the crusted blood on her arms was starting to itch. Her legs were tied to the wall as well, but not as tightly, enough that she still got blood circulation in her feet. Most of that

wasn't really concerning her at the moment, though. All of it was fixable, would heal. But what about the others? She desperately hoped that nothing permanently damaging was happening to them in the other rooms.

Terrorist-COlt: There were no lights in this slaughterhouse; the exact reason this terrorist had chosen it to disappear with his captives. But there was one in particular, whom he vowed to hide away from the world.
"Zai Kataki...."
The rotting wood that had been crafted into a door released a loud 'creeeeaaak', echoing throughout the empty cell. "I've been watching you for a while now, Zai...." She was his, and only his. The world couldn't have her; she was his... only his... only

his. "How do you like your arrangements?" His voice was a deep, gruff pitch, adding to an atmosphere filled with terror; distant wails could be heard down the hall, from another victim he'd kidnapped last week. "You're mine...."

Pain. So much pain. Winry slowly opened her eyes, hardly registering her surroundings. She felt unbelievably tired, like she had pulled one-too-many all nighters. "...Ed...? Al...?" As her eyes adjusted to the darkness around

her, she soon came to realize she hoped neither of the Elrics were anywhere near this place. A cold bolt of fear shot through the blonde mechanic. She tried to move, but found her limbs unwilling to move. Winry looked to see her wrists cuffed to

the wall and her ankles also cuffed to the wall. She struggled in a fit of blind panic, and let out a scream as the cold metal bit into the flesh of her limbs. Her struggling also ripped open a wound she had apparently accquired earlier, causing blood

to flow from her side. "Someone...anyone...help me..."

Roy shook the hair that stuck to his forehead from the blood off, trying to regain at least a LITTLE comfort in his situation, if it was only just the simple gratification of a less itchy forehead. Hot puffs of air escaped his mouth as he

slowly felt the heated blood in his system run to his head, causing dizzying black spots in his vision and his wit to be deterred... And he almost did not register the shrill scream of a certain mechanic locked in the same room as him, even then on

his hazy alert. "Hey, Winry!" he barked, spitting some of the blood out of his mouth, relief and terror hiding in underlying tones. "Shhh, it's fine, shh!" He struggled once again with the ropes bounding his wrists, hoping to break the tautly pulled

strings so he could safely go save his subordinates and Winry, to reassure himself they would all be fixed and well after this hellish night. "You're okay, they're okay," Roy grunted, ceasing his attempts as the long gash on his abdominal started to

reopen. And then a random ninja crashed through the window, shoving icecream into their wounds to which they immediately healed. Mmmn, mint chocolate flavor. And then Roy and Winry broke out together because they're so cool and

they didn't even realize they left the others behind. But the ninja came to them as well and everyone lived happily ever after.

Havoc shook his head, the blonde, tangled mat hitting his sweat covered forhead. The young mans bound wrists were beginning to sting, and he could feel a fresh line of blood trickle down his left forearm. "Fuery?" Havoc spoke, or

whispered, into the darkness, "Wait--What the hell just happened?" The blonde military man pressed his lips together, sweat traveling down his neck and onto the long gash across his chest; making it sting. Jean grunted, shifting his weight, but

that only made his raw wrists bleed more against the brittle ropes. Where's everyone else...? The young man thought, arching his head back, looking for some source of light. But there was nothing, the only thing Havoc could make out was

Fuery's harsh breathing, and the constant screams throughout the warehouse.

Fuery: Lifting his head up shakily, Kain blinked a few times against the thick darkness that engulfed the two men. Fuery had opened his mouth to reply- but fell helplessly into a ghastly bout of wheezes and cough, the bruises on his neck (after

having been strangled) and chest aching with each cough.
"Ugh... H-havoc...." When he'd applied for a job, the young cadet had never quite imagined having to go through this in his career. However- now, as a Master Sergeant.... it was almost eminent; the times, they were a-changin.... "S-sir.... the

terrorist has us b-bound up..." he rasped, clearing his throat so as not to risk another coughing fit. "D-damn it all....."

Zai's breath hissed slightly as she heard a door open. Was it someone coming to rescue her? Or the torturer returned? Several cuts on her torso and arms were already aching, and it didn't help the way her heart thundered in her

chest. A voice spoke her name, and it certainly did nothing to ease her worries. He had been watching her...? No way. No. No, please no. "Who are you...? Why... What..." Her breath quickened again as she heard the wails and screams echoing

throughout the building, "Where are my friends?" Gods, she hated how her voice shook. Hated how weak she sounded. She hissed slightly as she let her head relax for a moment, causing her hair to tug on the hook, adding to her already near

blinding headache. Why would anyone be this fixated on her, anyway? Didn't creeps like this man usually go for the perfect ones...? "Let my friends and I go..." Her voice was still shaking, dammit! How was she supposed to sound brave and

unbreakable, when her voice sounded like she could break at any second?

Colt: Chuckling softly, Colt strolled leisurably into the cell, footsteps echoing loudly against the near-silent (save for the wails) stone. Her cries.... her begs for mercy.... the terrorist just drank it up. Music to his ears, the terrified wails of women- and

one woman, in specific.
"Oh, how foolish of me- allow me to introduce myself...." As he slowly neared her, inch by inch, Colt felt the grin widening across the lower half of his face. Once he was mere feet from her, he crouched down, reaching a long, rather muscular arm

forward, and placing his fingers under her chin. "The name's Colt~"

Out of the darkness, a voice reached out to Winry, a tone as familiar as it was comforting. She felt the salty sting of tears as a surge of hope rose within her. "Roy? Is that you? You're with me?" The mechanic wished he was

closer, holding her close and telling her everything would be alright. Suddenly, fear dug its claws into the hope. If Roy was here, did that mean that he... "Are...are you okay, Roy?" Cerulean eyes dull by pain and bloodloss scanned the darkness

around her. She needed to see him, to prove his voice wasn't simply a hallucination brought on by approching death. "Where are you, Roy? You're not hurt, are you?" The sharp scent of blood was filling the air, and she didn't know if it was her

blood or his. She hoped it wasn't his. She hoped that he was okay, and that his presence meant that her time in this hell was over. "You really are here, aren't you Roy? I...I not just going crazy, am I?" Winry almost choked on the words, not wanting

to accept even the idea that she was going insane. She needed him to remind her that she existed outside of this hell. Winry was being to lose touch with her own identity. How long had she been here? Hours? Days? Weeks? Had it been months

and no one had been able to find her, or had they simply never bothered? "Please tell me you're real, Roy. Please."

Sometimes, this woman amazed him. There she was, terrified and most likely injured because HE hadn't been able to save her-- or any of them, for that matter-- and yet, the first words to come out of her mouth weren't anything

about herself or her own deadly injuries-- if she had any, which he hoped against all odds she did not. No, they had been in concern of he, the military man who probably had to have gone through far worse, than the girl who's innocence was

tainted by the unfortunate events that drew her near. In a way, he was glad it was dark. He would be able to counter a smooth lie to her statement, so she would not have to worry so much. (And, he wouldn't be able to see those horrid wounds the

bastard had undoubtedly fixed her with.) "I'm alright. Alright? Now, focus on nothing but my voice, got it? Nothing. Not any pain, not any panic, nothing else." He instructed as he grunted, ropes finally beginning to pull loose. He could feel the thread

breaking, ever so steadily... And while the strain did cause his stomach wound to fluctuate and bleed, he was making progress. He'd get her out... Everyone out. "Remember the stories you told me--" he winced, cuts on his wrists opening ever so

slightly, but progress-- "--about Ed and Al? That one... Where they cheered you up on a rainy day after school by creating a mud pie with alchemy..." And the rope snapped.

Havoc chuckled a bit, wrenching forward; a slight rip sound emitting from his jacket. The young man began to tug on his left arm, feeling his hand beginning to slip through; do to the fact it was slick with his own blood. Havoc licked

his dry lips, "No need to talk formal here, Fuery." He said, the brittle ropes digging into the new, soft flesh of his hands. Jeans eyes closed in pain, skin being so slowly ripped open; causing him to yell out, quite loudly, in pain, "GODDAMNIT!" The

room was plunged into silence as the young man pressed his lips firmly together, "Fuery...." He said, voice rough, "We're screwed, arent we?"

Fuery: Squeezing his eyes shut at Havoc's cry, the confused sergeant felt a few tears escape his lower lids. "I... i guess so, Jean..." He struggled to keep his voice from fluxuating- but damnit... they could die, here... right across from eachother, and

probably not far from the others. It was a living hell, knowing that death surrounded you, threatening to assault at any second. "S-sir....." --old habits died hard. "if we don't make it outta here alive, I just--" Another bout of coughing intterupted his,

chest burning from the combination of coughs and bruises. Fuck... fuckfuckfuckityfuck. His voice was rendered useless for a few moments, as the lump in his throat knotted up his windpipe; yet again, a few tears dripped down the sides of his face,

and he couldn't help releasing a soft whimper of fear.... "Havoc, I'm scared...."

Zai's heart seemed to pound faster and faster with each step closer the man took. Her breath came in quick gasps that were bordering on sobs at this point, which she could only imagine pleased the man. She squirmed slightly, trying

to adjust herself to relieve the pressure on her shoulders a bit. Letting out a tiny whimper, the woman realized that a cut on her leg had opened in her attempts, and she could feel the warm blood now running down her leg. And then, he touched

her, and something snapped. "Don't. Touch. Me." Her breath hissed between her teeth as she curled her lip at the man, snapping her chin away from his hand. "Let my friends go." She kept her head angled away from him, her one eye glaring

angrily out into the darkness.

Colt: Raising an eyebrow in the darkness, which his eyes had grown all too accustomed to, Colt moved his hands down to her shoulders. They were tense- probably from being tied up for so long. He couldn't help but chuckle at the prospect, as

though he'd heard a really good joke. "Come now, dear- I can be sweet~" Letting his hands fall to his side, he stood back up to full height. "When my victims cooperate, that is~"