Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. Hiromu Arakawa does. I only own the OC characters.

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He didn't know how much time had passed. It had to have been days at the most. Apart from the timely meals he got twice a day, there was really no other way to tell. The meals themselves were just meat from what he assumed were the dogs that the man loved to pride himself with. Apparently, they had more uses other than scarring children for life.

If it was in any other case, he would have refused to eat dog meat. But the psycho had given him no choice. He had threatened to give punishment if he didn't eat, and he was too afraid to go through something like that. The man would also kick him in the gut if he refused the food. Then again, the psycho liked to do that to serve as Edward's alarm clock, just to make him eat breakfast.

But the worst thing was watching this sick freak work. Every day, he would drag in some poor, whining canine into the room, struggling and barking. They would be spread out on the table, a leather collar fastened around their neck. The tube would go in, the knife would flash, and the guts were spilled all over the floor. Edward was forced to watch this, and every time it happened, he pressed himself against the wall, making sure that nothing splashed on him. Unfortunately, that wasn't so easy, and his red coat turned more red from the bloodstains. The intestines, stomachs, and other organs were displayed in full view. It made Ed want to vomit, and he did, several times. He did it so much that the man gave him a metal bucket just to throw up into. He didn't want any other stains other than blood on his floor, apparently.

The walls of the white room seemed to press in on all sides. The red bloodstains on the floor contrasted brilliantly, so that it always stuck in his mind. He was surprised he hadn't lost his sanity by now. It was like living in a constant nightmare, the reality of it more frightening than dreams ever could be. He just wanted out, to wake up from it. He often wondered if this was where he was going to die.

No, he couldn't die, not here, not like this. That's why he needed to escape. He looked for any opportunity that presented itself. After one particular evening meal (he assumed it was evening), it seemed he had found it. The man always entered and left through the same door that he had dragged Edward through. It was a heavy metal door, but it closed slowly for a few seconds before it shut completely with a click. It was enough time to slip through before being locked in. He decided that this was the best chance that he would get.

The man always made sure that Edward was going to finish his meal before leaving. When he ingested the last bits of food, the psycho would turn and exit through the door, leaving it to slowly swing shut. At that moment, it would be the perfect time to strike. Quickly, Edward slid his empty plate across the floor. The ceramic disc wedged itself between the door and doorframe, keeping it open. He waited for a few tense seconds. If the man realized that the door didn't shut, then he didn't show it. Ed breathed a sigh of relief before struggling to his feet. They felt a little shaky for not being used for a while, but he was able to walk forward towards the door. He wasn't out of the woods yet.

He opened the door slightly wider so he could squeeze through, pushing the plate back inside with his foot so it could shut all the way. The small room in front of the cabin held no sight of the psycho. Just the small pen off to the right full of yipping dogs. As Edward hurried past, he muttered, "Don't worry, I'll get help," to the dogs before bolting out the door.

The teen almost jumped for joy. It had been too easy. The man was as stupid as he was terrifying. However, he could be near, so he had to be quiet. He did not want to get caught, and be forced to endure whatever sick punishment this freak would dish out. So he ran through the woods as if he were being chased, trying to remember the opposite direction from where the van had come when he was brought here. It was nighttime, and just as dark as it had been all those days ago. It was almost too hard to navigate. The leaves blocked most of the moonlight.

Relying on his memory seemed to pay off. In the distance, he could make out a pinprick of light. He ran faster, bringing the source into clear view. It turned out to be a lone streetlight next to an empty dirt road. Not only that, but a stand-up telephone was right next to it. He must have gotten really lucky. Ed's hopes soared as he reached the box, grabbing the receiver and dialing the only number he could think to call.

"Hello? May I ask who this is?" the cheery voice of the operator greeted him. Ed was breathing so hard, that he almost forgot why he had called. "I need you to connect me to Colonel Mustang now," he said desperately.

"I'm sorry, but I can't connect you to military personnel on a public line. If you're an officer, please provide your identification code," the operator said calmly.

"Tell him it's the Fullmetal Alchemist. Please, I don't know how much time I have."

There was a pause on the other end. Then, "The Fullmetal Alchemist? Are you sure this isn't a joke?"

"No, it's no joke. I'm the Fullmetal Alchemist. Please, just connect me to Mustang."

Another pause. "Alright, I'll connect you to the Colonel now."

"Thank you," Ed said gratefully, relief washing over him. He never thought he'd be so overjoyed to hear the bastard's voice come over the line.

"Fullmetal, is that really you? Are you alright? Where the hell are you?" The questions came in rapid succession, not pausing for breath in between. Ed swallowed. "Colonel, there was this man, and he kidnapped me," he began, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible. "He-he took my automail, and he locked me in this room and... oh god, there was so much blood..." he trailed off as tears threatened to surface again. The nightmare that he had to endure was still fresh in his mind. He felt like a scared little kid, and he couldn't hide it from himself anymore. Hell, he was scared, and he just wanted to go home.

"Edward, you've been missing for three days," Mustang said, more slowly and soothingly. He could tell that the boy was getting worked up over what he had just escaped from. He had to calm Ed down before he could help him properly. "Just breathe and focus. Can you tell me what happened? Where did he take you?"

Edward sniffed loudly before recomposing himself. "He took me to this cabin in the woods. We didn't drive that far from Central, so I think we're somewhere around the outskirts of the city. I'm at a phone booth right now beside the dirt road, underneath a streetlamp."

"And there's nothing else that could give a more accurate description?" Mustang asked calmly.

"No, I was blindfolded. I couldn't see much. Just that there are a lot of trees, so it's probably a forest." An itch on the back of Ed's neck started to grow. He had been here for too long. The man was probably looking for him. "Colonel, please. He probably knows by now that I've escaped," the teen said, desperation making his voice rise. "You have to get here before he finds me."

"Don't worry Fullmetal, we're trying our best to bring you home safe and sound. You just have to hang in there."

"Mustang, please hurry," Ed cried out. The itch had grown to a burn. Something felt wrong. He shouldn't be here. He had to hide. His heart raced like a fleeing hare, desperately trying to escape its predator. Oddly, that's how Ed felt right now. Helpless prey that had been backed into a corner. All of a sudden, bright lights shone out from behind the teen, making his racing heart drop down to his feet. "No," he breathed, every muscle in his body tensed.

"Fullmetal? Fullmetal, what is it? Tell me!" Mustang exclaimed into the receiver. In his petrified state, Edward slowly looked behind him to face the glaring headlights of the white van. "He found me," he whispered.

The driver's side door of the van opened. The young alchemist was broken from his trance as the door was slammed shut and heavy footsteps sounded towards him quickly. He dropped the receiver, leaving it hanging from the booth. "No! Stay away! Stay away from me!" he yelled, as he turned and tore off into the surrounding woods. The man continued to approach the phone booth. He could hear the voice on the other end yelling for someone named Fullmetal. He grinned as he gripped the open-ended receiver in his thick, strong hand. He tore it from its wire, severing the line. Raising it above his head, the man used the oblong object to repeatedly smash against the phone booth. When he was finished , both the booth and the receiver were nothing but a demolished pile of wood and metal bits. He let go of the crumbled remains before staring after where Ed had run off. With a confident smirk, he walked in the alchemist's general direction, knowing that the boy couldn't escape from him no matter how hard he tried.

Edward ran, losing track of where he was and where he was going. He diverged so much off the path that he couldn't tell how to get back. He decided to worry about that later. Right now, he had to make sure the man didn't find him.

He ran for a few minutes before he heard someone running up from behind. He realized that he could never outrun that psycho. Quickly, he veered off from his chosen direction, and dove under a patch of thick undergrowth. He lay as still as possible, hoping he was completely covered. Soon, he heard the man approaching. He put his hand over his mouth to stifle his breathing. His heart was pounding so hard, he was sure the psycho could hear it. He heard heavy footsteps stop close to his hiding spot. Fear shot through his entire body, keeping him as still as he could be. There were a few agonizing moments in which he could hear the man's breathing. After that, however, the footsteps continued, going farther into the woods.

Ed let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Did he do it? Did he actually escape? He lay still for a few more seconds. He couldn't hear any more footsteps. He took this as a sign that the coast was clear. Using his only hand, Ed pushed himself up to his knees.

"There you are," a voice said from right behind him. Before he could react, a strong hand grabbed his braid, and lifted him off the ground. Edward was once again face to face with the dog-crazy psycho.

Terror hit him with full force. "No! No, please, let me go!" He struggled, kicking and hitting the man, but the blows didn't seem to faze him. "Please, don't take me back! I don't wanna go back!" he wailed desperately. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. Just when he thought he had escaped, bad luck was all too happy to screw him over.

The man leaned his face into Edward's, his rancid breath assaulting the boy's senses. "You've been a bad boy, Edward. You've disobeyed me. And disobedience is only rewarded with punishment." His wicked grin was filled with glee. Dread filled up in the pit of Edward's stomach. "No, please!" he yelled, knowing what "punishment" the man was referring to. "I don't want it! Anything but that, please!"

His desperate cries went unheeded. The man quickly shifted his grip, circling his arms around the boy, pinning him to his chest. Ed struggled and protested, until there was no fight left in him. The man walked back to the parked van, which was still running. He opened the passenger side door, settling the teen into the seat, buckling his seat belt. The teen watched him do this, powerless to stop himself from being taken back to this awful nightmare. Tears finally escaped his eyes, cascading down his cheeks. The man smirked at the sight of them. He just loved striking fear in the hearts of others.

The psycho slammed the passenger door, and circled around to climb into the driver's side. Edward stared ahead, still crying, too numb to even fight back anymore. The man settled himself in the driver's seat, and shifted the van into drive. The bulky vehicle began its short trip back to the cabin, where Ed's punishment awaited.

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"Damn it!" Colonel Mustang cried, slamming down the receiver. "I lost connection." He glanced over at a mousy-looking man with glasses sitting at a desk, fiddling with a radio. "Fuery, were you able to trace that call?" he asked.

Kain Fuery looked back at him confidently. "Yes, sir. It came from an outdated telephone line just outside of Central."

"Good work, Sergeant," Mustang acknowledged. He looked around the room at the rest of his team, who were calmly awaiting orders. "Listen up. We are not going in without backup. However, this is an urgent matter. We don't know how long Fullmetal has, so we're on a time-crunch. I expect all of you to be efficient."

Everyone mutually saluted. "Yessir!" they all said in unison, before shifting into gear. They were getting Edward back alive, and no one was going to stand in their way.

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Author's Note: Here's a longer chapter for you guys. Edward was so close, but yet so far. It's almost sad. Oh, who am I kidding, of course it's sad. But now Mustang is on this guy's trail, and it won't be long before he gets caught. Last part of this story is coming soon.

This author's note is really just a place for me to write down my thoughts and current mood. To those who are still patient enough to read these, thank you for putting up with my rambling. They seem to go all over the place.

Praise is appreciated and constructive criticism is encouraged.

-The_Mayflower