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

-------

The woman's screams kept him awake. The pieces of flesh peeled off smacked onto the floor, splattering gore everywhere. There was so much red. He didn't think anyone could survive losing that much blood.

Wherever they were, other people occupied any space outside this dingy room. He could hear them shuffling around, occasional thunks resonating through the walls. However, the only person who would visit them was the man. The place was silent then.

He figured that no one else who lived there knew what was going on within their walls. This was made evident when more than one muffled voice filtered through the thick concrete wall. Whenever the others were there, the man used the duct tape to gag both him and the women, presumably to keep them as quiet as possible while they were present. He soon made the discovery that someone lived in the room on the other side of the wall he was chained up to. He would occasionally hear tapping on the other side, playful and upbeat. His stomach always constricted at the thought that he couldn't tap back.

He had tried other methods. He took a chance to gain the person's attention. He kicked his automail leg at the wall. He shouted as loud as he could through the tape over his mouth, rattling the chain hard. He received a frightened voice in response. Then a loud pounding, followed by a sharp demand. "Quiet down or I'll come in there!" The tone was both lighthearted and threatening. It made him abruptly halt his attempts at making noise. The blood chilled in his veins. He would recognize that voice easily.

It was the man.

So, the others who lived there knew this psycho, but had no idea of the sinister intentions he hid inside. He wondered why the man had never chosen them as victims. Nevertheless, it deterred him from making any more effort to be heard.

He always tried to curl up into a protective ball every time the man graced them with his presence. The sick bastard would sometimes taunt him about how his turn was coming up soon whenever he tore into the woman, chuckling madly to himself. He had stopped trying to suppress the whimpers long ago.

He didn't know how long he had been here, but it at least had to have been a few days. What was taking the colonel so long? He continued to grow more desperate as the hours dragged on, hoping that someone would save him before the psycho finished with this victim and moved on. He felt a sharp flare of shame shoot through him, but it was quickly swallowed by the ever-consuming fear.

His hope, however, would not be realized.

The man had procured a pair of metal pliers from the workbench, approaching the woman's face. She thrashed in her bonds, pleading and sobbing hysterically. The psycho paid no heed, mercilessly sinking the pliers into the woman's eye socket. The scream she let loose made his toes curl in, the sound piercing into his skull like a drill. The familiar squelch of flesh being ripped apart reached his ears, followed by the wet slap of it hitting the floor. He cautiously peeked over his bent knees, trying to catch a glimpse of what had been ruthlessly extracted. The sight threatened to send what little food he had in him back up through his esophagus.

It was the woman's eyeball.

Terror gripped him, the depths of this man's insanity sending his heart racing like a jackrabbit. The psycho in question repeated the same process with the other eye. The woman's pleads were lost among her screaming, the man laughing maniacally at the display. It seemed like forever, but her cries finally died down, her body growing still. The man frowned at this, roughly nudging her form. She gave no response.

The man lowered his head, his ear hovering over her mouth. After a few seconds, his expression was marred with a look of disappointment. "Dead already? Tch." The psycho tossed the bloody pliers onto the table with a clang. "Pathetic. No fun at all."

Ed could hardly register the man's words. She was dead? That woman... Lily... was dead? But they had been talking not too long ago. The weight of what had just occurred sank into his heart. He clenched his teeth, choking down the sob that had been bubbling up inside his throat. He realized now that the only living souls in this nightmare were him and the psychopath who had just committed a murder in front of him.

He startled as the man's face filled his vision, having finished washing himself of the blood. His face was split into a wide grin, clearly indicating how unhinged he was. Ed trembled under that gaze, making himself as small as possible. "Looks like you're next," the psycho chortled, too much glee injected into that tone. He then left through his usual entry point, leaving the blond alone with the dim light and a fresh corpse.

Tears gathered in his amber orbs. He took several deep breaths, trying to calm his pounding heart. However, when he looked back up at the messages on the wall, despair swelled inside him. Because he was certain that he had found the most recent victim's panicked scrawling.

If I don't make it out, please tell Nathan that I love him, and that I'll miss him.

Lily

It was at this moment that he knew that he was going to die in here. His body would be dumped in some back street like garbage, bloody and torn apart. He dreaded to think what would happen if Al was the one who discovered it.

But that wasn't even the worst part. The messages scratched into the wall were mementos of dead people. Without the means to insert his own message into the rough surface, he had no way to leave behind any last words. He couldn't even talk to his brother after the fact, from beyond the grave. With the way he left things between them... there would be no way to fix it.

Regret and hopelessness pushed him to the breaking point. He didn't want to die, yet he would. It was inevitable. He could see that now. The dam inside him crumbled, ugly sobs wrenching themselves from his scratchy throat. He wailed, long and loud, like a wounded animal. He came to the solemn conclusion that Edward Elric would soon be no more.

He continued to sob long into the night, even after the man came back to gag him with the tape again, the sound muffled and heart-wrenching.

-------

He was too sluggish to feel the cold weight of the manacle of his wrist fall away. He only started panicking when he felt a grip on his arm, dragging him across the hard floor. He wriggled wildly, trying to dislodge the hold, but his body was too malnourished. He didn't have enough strength to do much of anything.

Suddenly, he was lifted and dumped onto his back on a smooth metal surface. Before he could register what was happening, makeshift leather bands stretched across his body, pinning down his legs and his remaining arms. He pushed against them, but they were strong and thick. No way he was getting out of this. Fear jump-started his heart.

The tape was forcefully ripped from his face, making him elicit a sharp yelp from the stinging pain. He glanced up at the one responsible, the man's eyes hidden behind the glint of his glasses. It made him all the more sinister. He grinned down at the bound alchemist, like a predator eying its prey.

"The real fun starts now," he said. He was leaning on the edge of the table with his hands, regarding him thoughtfully. "This will be interesting," he mused. "I've never had a state alchemist before. I wonder how long you'll last." The psycho made his way over to the workbench, Edward trying desperately to hold in a panicked sob. He could not suppress the whimper that escaped him when the man returned, wielding a particularly large and wicked-looking carving knife. The man grinned at him, giddy like a child. "Let's begin, shall we?"

The first time the knife sunk into his flesh, it felt like someone had jammed a hot poker into his body. He whimpered and writhed, aggravating the injury further. The man pressed his hand down on his metal shoulder in an effort to keep him still. "None of that now," he chided, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. "This will be a lot easier if you don't move around so much." The knife slowly inched upward, cutting away the flesh. He let out a strangled cry, fire radiating from the wound all throughout his body. The man wore a sick expression of glee.

He only noticed the pair of pincers until the psycho held them up in the dim light, sadistically clacking them together. Edward barely had time to protest before the man had grabbed the loose flap of flesh on his abdomen with the tool. He then began to pull.

He screamed in agony, completely shattering him with that one act. He was left a sobbing, blubbering mess once the last tendrils of flesh were ripped away. And, to his despair and horror, it wasn't over yet.

-------

Author's Note: Another chapter, as promised. I've been reading some of the comments. I did say this was based off a Youtube video I watched. If you're into creepypasta readings and all things horror, here's the link for you to check it out. I highly recommend it.

Anywho... happy halloween.

Praise is appreciated and constructive criticism is encouraged.

See you next time!

-The_Mayflower