Alphonse... Alphonse...

I balled my hands into fists, staring forward at my brother. He looked almost peaceful, but there was one flaw... No pulse.

"Someone seems angry!~" a voice trilled to my right, psychopathic, annoying...

Screw resolve.

I lifted my hands, bringing them together clumsily as my shoulders shake and rare crocodile tears drip down my cheeks.

Screw holding back. So what if this world doesn't have alchemy? I don't care if they jail me for using 'foreign magic', none of it matters anymore.

"Praying for your life? That's not going to work, little boy." The woman rose her wand, pointing it toward me.

This bitch is going to die.

I slid my left arm down my wrist to press into my artificial forearm. The glove tore to pieces, flitting innocently to sit on my brother's un-moving chest.

I lifted my gaze toward the taken-aback features of 'Bellatrix'.

"No more playing around," I growled. I kicked off the ground, making a split decision and tearing off the woman's wand-arm in one quick motion.

Now I understand the pleasures of a psychopath. The way Mustang felt when he discovered who it really was that killed Maes Hughes. The way that Scar felt. The unbelievable pleasure of her screams filling the air. The horrible urge to gouge out her very eyeballs. The undying belief that it was all justified.The bitch deserved it all.

I can't even believe it, as a horrible grin fills my features. My right arm is soon coated in blood, small blasts from spells that tried to halt my actions removing my coat and jacket. I find myself not even minding as blood splashes against my face.

It's this bitch's fault that my brother is gone. Dead. He'll never come back. Death is irreversible. She even had the guts to try and torture him before his death. When he didn't scream, she got bored and murdered him.

Al didn't deserve to die. He didn't. He'd just gotten his body back, too.

Now? I'm all that I have left. There is no shame in killing this woman before I follow my brother.

Cutting, slicing. Her chest is ripped up, along with her remaining arm and her legs. I send one last stab straight through her neck before getting to my feet and shaking the droplets from my weapon.

I send my critical glare around the room. Why stop now? Might as well save the rest of the side I've been fighting for. I can't help but notice how some of these people are looking at me. Horror, Disgust, Surprise. From everyone. I arch an eyebrow slightly, my gaze casually runs over Sirius and Harry before landing on a small group of horrified death eaters.

.

"I suggest you leave," I say in my most un-psychopathic voice. I don't think it worked. They ran off, disappeared in little pops of air before my wrath extended to them and they were gone like that woman was too.

Speaking of her...

She lay in a mess at my feet a few meters away, throat sliced and her whole body covered in blood. Her arm, another limb lay in a mess nearby. Seeing the mess of a human decapitated was sickening, but I could only remember how good I felt when I ripped it off, when I felt her measly, weak human body crush under mine. She was no match. She was a little brat, spoiled bitch who thought that the world revolved around her.

I showed her right. She killed my brother. I killed her. It was equivalent exchange.

A part of me that sounded suspiciously like Alphonse and Winry mixed together berated me for using alchemy's law to justify what I did. But alchemy wasn't just for good - what it could do, it's temptations, they were of the devil. It's laws and it's rules, they weren't bent on one side. Murder sufficed. I didn't care.

"Ed...ward..." My name was choked out, and I imagine bleeding and necks being ripped. The last swallow of breath before your head separated from your body. It was Hermione, looking terror-stricken and disgusted.

I snarl at her. "What?"

She doesn't understand. None of them do. The need to kill, the want, it was a part of me. It was the animal that I've been keeping down for so long, and now it just broke it's chains. They've been cuddled and cradled and kept in their little safe bubbled with no knowledge of how things in reality really were - people were crueler than you realized. What I did was nothing compared to what everyone else could do.

Wizards, the whole lot, are just primp-like, pampered, fucked up little bastards. I wouldn't mind killing them either, the little whiners.

"I can't believe you just did that," Sirius said, looking at the remains of the once living woman. Another surge of pleasure filtered through me as I realized that she died by my hands. "I can't believe it."

"You killed her!" Harry exclaims, like it was the world's most horrendous thing.

"Well, that's obvious, right?" Honestly, they're so stupid it makes my temper flare. "Get over it. She would've killed much more if I hadn't gotten rid of her. Would you like that?"

"No, but..."

Hermione spoke up now, looking green. "You didn't have to mutilate her!"

I look at her with incredulous eyes, and have the inexplicable urge to giggle. "Well, what do you want me to do. Make her die all safe and quick and painless like that stupid curse of yours?" I taunt. She flinches, and so does Harry, and I know I've hit a sweet spot. I smirk. "No. I wanted her to suffer. There are many ways to kill a person, Granger." The usage of her last name through my blood stained lips makes her wince. "I, myself, know one-hundred and twenty one ways to kill someone with my bare hands." I grin. "Impressive, right?"

"You're all just so spoiled that I hate it." I scoff, the grin wiping from my face. "Wizards. I always thought they were stupid." I looked over at my little brother's body, and I felt my resolve soften.

"Grow up," I say, and my voice sounds too formidable and soft for my liking. "Grow up and face the world. And then you tell me if I'm horrible."

It's not like I need her to tell me anyways.

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"No, It's not impressive," Harry tells me, "It's sick."

I scoff and step forward, hovering over the dead body of my little brother. "The world is sick, Potter." I run a hand through my hair, blood coating the golden strands. "Alphonse..." I'm still quivering, still crying through the whole fiasco, I notice. "He was such a gentle, nice boy..." I crouch down, not daring to run a hand over his cheek as I'm tempted to, fearing the blood will stain his face. "He never should have died... but the world is sick... and he's dead." I sob slightly, shaking my head to send droplets of scarlet and clear liquid flying. "He just got his body back, too. He just became human again. The sensations, the food, the sleep. It was all back for such a short period of time. Only to have that witch steal it all away..."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, giving a small chuckle as I fell from my crouch and to my knees. "I hate magic, so quick, so instantaneous. If it was more physical, I could've gotten over here in time..."

"That doesn't justify..." Hermione started, trailing off.

I shook my head, staring down at my brother through slightly blurry eyes. "Yes, it does. Alphonse is all I have left. He was my reason for living. Now that he's gone..." I breathed in heavily before looking back up toward the group. "Everyone can kill. Order a man to, and he will hesitate. But once it starts...send a man to war, and they have no trouble cutting each other into pieces. Everyone can kill. Everyone can. It's the resolve not to kill, that I had, and It shattered the moment he stopped living."

I took a moment, but gave in and stroked my blood-stained thumb across Al's cheek before leaning down and kissing his forehead softly.

.

His skin is ice-cold, and I know that they're watching me. Don't they understand? Al was my world. He still is my world. But if I die...I wanted to die. I wanted someone to kill me, because I know I would never kill myself. That was sickening, the coward's way out.

Winry.

Her face is like a beacon in my mind, but I ignore it for now.

"Do you understand?" I ask softly.

"It's still sick," Hermione mutters. I almost feel like ripping her throat out too. I growl at her.

"Are you all so thickly headed that you can't understand my words? Of course it's sick! It's taking another human being's life! It's ripping them of their humanity! It's called murder, death, genocide - you're still the one that'll end their misery." My words come out deep and growling. They drip with venom and a tone I can't recognize, but it frightens even me.

"You'll see what I'm talking about," I choke out. I hold Al's head close to my head. "You'll see. You'll see what lengths people will go to. You'll see how much blood is spilled. You'll see how some people have no morals. You're just lucky I stopped. Or else..." I let my voice trail and a sad grin fluttered across my face. "Or else, I would've killed you too. I don't even care that you're friends. I would've done it."

There's silence.

"Someday..." I trail off, and I look into the eyes of the oldest; Sirius, who had been quiet throughout the whole thing, who was looking at me with a mixture of disgust, contempt, understanding and regret. "Someday, you'll have to do it too." My words reach only for him, and I know that it'll haunt him; hell, something already does.

I can see that whatever happened it kills him inside, the slow kind of burning that I know he feels, because it's how I feel too. And it takes all of my willpower to not just give up. I lick my lips and there's blood, but I don't mind.

I'll kill, I know that. I'll kill, but there are worse people - people who would torture before kill. There's worse things than dying in the world. But they - they were so blind, they didn't know it yet.

Just wait, I think. Wait until you enter the real world. Then everything you've learned, everything you knew will be changed, warped into something that even you can't understand anymore.

I put my face near Alphonse and cry.

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"Thats... thats not true. There are people that go throughout their entire life without killing anyone! In fact, it's normal!" Hermione speaks out. I pressed my head against Al's ear.

"I know that..." I confirmed. "I know that... but... you're going through a war. No matter how much you hate it, no matter how much you refuse to believe. You're going to have to kill at some point. You are involved." I choked down another sob, my arms quivering around my brother. "People are going to die, too, you can't go believing that no one you know will die. You can't go on believing that 'It won't happen to you'. Death happens every day..." I gave a small wail, shaking with pent-up sobs of anger and regret, sadness and hurt. "and there is nothing you can do about it. Absolutely nothing... we're only human... just human... I'm only one, tiny, insignificant human, who can't even protect his little brother. Can't even save one little girl who didn't deserve to die by her father's hand. Didn't..." I squeezed my brother tighter against my chest. "We didn't... I didn't..." I choked out, shaking my head and letting out another wail. "Why wasn't it me? Why... He had so much to live for and..."

My heart was jumping everywhere, my mind following it with small panicking thoughts. Murderous ones, suicidal ones, stronger ones, weaker ones, ones that just wanted to collapse, cry, and give up.

"The world is sick... it's sick, sick, sick, sick. I hate it. I hate everything."

.

I shoved my dagger through the woman's neck, kicking her off after a brief moment to join her arm. I then re-directed my gaze toward the small group of Death Eaters, stunned as they watched the scene with horror. I got a sick sense of satisfaction at their paralysis as I briskly strode forward, shaking the blood from my mechanical arm. I shoved my palms together and put my left hand to the ground. A second later I twirled the small zig-zagging, jagged knife in my hand before launching myself forward with a short cackle. I dashed into the crowd, ramming my knife through one man's forehead quickly before shoving him away and turning to another one, in which I rammed in the eye with an almost sickening but somehow satisfying squelch sound. I was almost giggling like a child as I twirled my way through the black-robed people, slicing and stabbing and ripping and tearing. I came to one more man, giving him a sick grin as I rose both arms, bringing down the knife and my blade to cut through flesh in bone, taking off both of the man's arms before giving him two knives in the gut.

I carelessly drew my knife out before scanning the room again. A part of my subconscious told me that this was sick and wrong, and that I wasn't even acting human anymore. Nothing more than an animal, and nothing less then the woman that became my first prey.

The other part just giggled and replied with 'Oh well~'.

I let my eyes fix on a horrified looking man, with blond hair and silverish blue eyes. He looked familiar- Oh, yes, Draco Malfoy! His father, then, yes?

I decided to ask him this.

"Oh~ You must be dear Draco's father," I brought up, stalking forward.

He seemed to relax slightly, as if this got him out of hot water.

I almost laughed. Idiot.

"Y-yes, yes, that would be me."

"Oh? I know Draco. We've been going to school together for the past few months. He's rather irritating, I think. You wouldn't happen to be a Death Eater, would you?"

"N-No! Of course not-!"

"Regardless of whether you're lying or not..." I start, shaking droplets off of my blade as well as a stray, pesky piece of flesh. "Everyone in this room isguilty. Involved or not, everyone is at fault. Everyone..." I grinned wider, my jaw starting to hurt slightly. "Everyone must die. Capisce?"

The man's eyes widened, and he backed up a step or two, stumbling. I gave a small, slightly malicious chuckle before practically pouncing forward shoving both weapons into the man's rib-cage. I twisted the daggers before pulling both out and kicking the man away.

Perhaps, a bit too harsh...

I shook my head. Nothing's too harsh. Alphonse is dead.

Dead, dead, dead.

Everyone in this room must die.

Everyone is responsible.

Including myself.

.

First thing that I notice is that there was so much blood. So much. I can't tell you how much. But there was so much. So, so much. Words cannot describe how the painted room become such a vivid shade that it was almost like you were walking straight into hell.

The next thing I noticed was the painter; he, himself, although looking blank and dead in the middle of the room, his golden hair was still bright and stark and looking more luminous along with his eyes against the scene of red. His lips were red, his arms and hands were red, and they made a bright, mesmerizing picture that I couldn't help but stare.

There was not one living soul here except for me and him. Except I don't think he was living; he was alive, but he wasn't living. His heart still beat, but his spirit was dead.

"Edward..."

My voice does not reach him, because I know that he's gone somewhere far away. There's something mad in his eyes, bright, dancing, jumping and thirsting. He blinks and looks at me, not surprised. But a grin stretches his face. And it's fake and abnormal; I can't help but smile too.

"Win!" he exclaims, looking positively happy. Beside me, there are those who hadn't left yet, but it seemed like we were the only two in the room. I wanted to reach out and grab his hand, but he does it first.

His footsteps are loud and they come in an uneven pattern. I can only see him, his face, imagine his warm embrace. I sense the bodies next to me - the wizards, the incapable wizards - stumble back and step, as if they're afraid of him. I don't understand why. He seemed perfectly...perfectly fine to me. His eyes place a spell on me that I can't define, but I don't want to leave.

He holds out a hand, and I've noticed he's dropped his blade. "Wanna dance?" he offers, like we used to do in old times back in Risembool.

"He's mad, Winry!" Someone shouts behind me. Mad? He's perfectly sane. There is nothing wrong with dancing.

I feel like I'm dropping myself into a dark hole that I can't control; and soon I start spinning as I touch his hand, and he brings me to the center and leads me around, smiling. Our footsteps splash in little puddles, and I can feel my dress - the one dear, sweet Molly had bought for me - getting stained, but I don't care. He's warm and I like dancing with him.

I hear choking behind me. I see them looking on in disbelief. "Are they both loony?"

"How the hell..."

"Their whole country must be off the cart."

I ignore them, because I just like being with him. It's like dancing with the devil, but I can't stop. He's right there, so in reach. Even though he's been so far away, I can just feel him here. And he's so close, I can see that our smiles are almost matching.

"Ed?" I hum. He looks down at me, a light in his gold eyes.

"Yes?"

"Would you kill me?"

He looks thoughtful, as if he was pondering the questions seriously. His brow was furrowed, and his lips were set. I wanted him to kill me. I wanted him to drive a blade through me. I don't know why. But I did. Was it so bad? Was it so bad to die with the one I loved, by his hand? I wouldn't mind. He wouldn't mind. I would kill him too, he knows.

The sound of silence is like music.

"I don't know," he mumbles, and I feel saddened. "Only if you kill me too."

"Hmm," My feet start to ache, but I don't tell him to stop. "We'll die together." I like the sound of that.

"Yes, we will." he says softly, placing his forehead to mine. I don't want this moment to end. I'd rather stay in his spell, dance with him forever and die in his arms than meeting my end any other way. And I know that he feels the same way, and that was what made me smile.

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This one's sorta messed up. XD The order is out of whack, since both Annie and Summer took turns doing Ed's part.

Each section - let's see who did which one!

-Annie
-Summer
-Annie
-Summer
-Annie
-Annie
-Summer

Pretty confusing? Somewhat.

As per usual - Annie and Summer. :-)

Review this please~

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