Panorama Ch. 3
CHAPTER 3: The One with Dire Intentions
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Early the next morning they were sitting on the train on their way back to Munich. The landscape blurred away in front of Alfons’ vision as he stared hazily out the window, his mind exhausted from the lack of sleep the previous night.
Edward had found some people last night and asked them for the way to the nearest open doctor’s office. Fortunately it had only been a few blocks away. The doctor had patched up Alfons’ wound, prescribed him some painkillers and told him to rest for a couple of days.
When they had arrived back at the hotel that night they had gotten a new room and the police had been investigating around the area. Edward sent Alfons up to the room to rest while he talked with one of the officers and described the culprit.
Even if Alfons was grateful, he hadn’t been able to get a single moment of rest, at least not alone. He felt a little nervous that the man in the cloak would come back. He still wondered why he had taken him. Why him?
When Edward had returned he at least had had a warm body to cling onto and Edward had comfortingly stroked his back until he fell into a light sleep. And even if Alfons had said he wasn’t able to fall asleep on trains, he didn’t find it that hard this time.
He awoke hours later from the uneven lurching of the train car, his head propped on Edward’s metallic shoulder and his eyes blurred and stingy.
“Hey,” Edward said softly. “You alive?”
Alfons chuckled in a low tone. “Yeah. What’s the time?”
“2:30 PM. We’ll be in Munich soon.”
“Good,” Alfons murmured. He had started to miss Munich. It would be nice to come home and be away from maniacs.
Unfortunately it wouldn’t be that easy. As soon as they went off the train, Alfons understood that something was terribly wrong. The station was booked with police cars everywhere. Had there been an accident?
He went close to Edward’s side as they headed towards the guarded exit from the station. It seemed like the police were combing through everyone who left the trains.
“What’s going on here?” Edward muttered.
“No idea.” Then he saw Officer Hughes, who noticed them as well. He immediately signalled some of his police colleagues and stepped forward to meet them.
“Edward Elric,” he said. “I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me to the police station.”
Edward and Alfons frowned and exchanged a look. Had this something to do with the assault they had experienced in Berlin?
“What is it?” Edward asked, just as one of the police men fastened a pair of handcuffs around his wrists. Edward was startled and immediately protested, but the man held onto his arm to keep him in place.
“Hughes, what the hell?”
“I’m sorry about this,” Hughes said. “You’ll find out at the station. Just come with us quietly now, please. You can come too, Alfons.”
Edward stopped struggling and scowled at him. Hughes looked strange. What was wrong here? “Fine,” he said slowly, and Alfons nodded nervously. Was Edward really being arrested? What for?
They followed after Hughes towards one of the police cars.
At the station Alfons was directed to wait while they took Edward in for interrogation. He felt slightly anxious. He had a feeling that this involved something else completely than what they had encountered in Berlin. But what?
Edward stepped silently after Hughes with his hands restrained in iron in front of him, doubting only more and more his awareness of what was going on at all. He had already disposed of the thought of it concerning the matter in Berlin. So what could it be? When had he done anything to be arrested for? Had something else happened while they were away?
“In here, please,” Hughes said, and held a door open for Edward to enter. “Take a seat.”
Edward stepped cautiously into the small room and sat down on a chair by a table.
“Mr. Elric,” Hughes said formally as he closed the door. “Maybe you can explain where you were around 11 AM yesterday.”
Edward scowled circumspectly at him. “What is this all about?”
“Just answer my questions, please.”
“Yesterday 11 AM,” Edward repeated slowly. “I was visiting a man called Robert Reinert.”
Hughes looked at him in disbelief for a second. “What business did you have with him?”
Edward tensed. “Nothing special, really. I had seen his movie the day before and wanted to speak to him about it, but I’m done with all that now.”
“You were seeing him about the movie?”
“So what?”
“Well, what do you think of the movie?” Hughes asked, seeming to ask the questions completely randomly to Edward.
“It was interesting. Look, I don’t know what you’re asking me these questions for. Care to fill me in, as a friend?” he prodded. Hughes was someone he knew quite well, after all. Edward’s eyes narrowed at his silence. “Has something happened to Robert Reinert?” Maybe there was something really serious going on here, after all.
Hughes sighed deeply. “You know he has received a lot of enemies because of the manuscript of his last movie, don’t you?”
“I’m not too familiar with that, but I guess I’ve heard some rumours about it,” Edward said casually. “People left the hall before the movie was over. It was said someone even went mad.”
“Yes, that’s right. Some people have been committed into the asylum after seeing it. So it’s not really strange that he has some enemies.”
“That doesn’t explain why I’m here,” Edward muttered. “Or what has happened to him.”
Hughes scowled and sat down on the chair opposite of Edward, thoughtfully rubbing his forehead. “Apparently, Robert Reinert has disappeared. There was blood in his apartment, but no body. Although it seemed to be a fatal injury.”
“What?” Edward stifled, his eyes widening. “Is he dead?”
“We don’t know yet. For all we know, someone killed him and hid his body. The police hope you can give us further details. We found this.” He held up a small book with a leather cover. It was handwritten, and Hughes held up a page in front of Edward’s nose. “This was written apparently shortly after you visited him this morning.”
Edward let his eyes scan the page.
“I had a visitor today, a young man by the name of Edward Elric. His eyes were as golden and dangerous as the sun. His limbs were of sharp metal like knives longing for my death. I need to be very careful, or else he’ll try to kill me as many others right now. My movie wasn’t supposed to cause all this, but I had to show the world the truth ...”
Edward’s eyes widened. “Did he think I wanted to kill him...?” His cuffed hands shook lightly in his lap and his face darkened. “Hey Hughes... Is that handwriting the same as in the rest of that diary?”
Maes Hughes nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
“So now I’m suspected for murder?” Edward deduced in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous! Alfons was with me the whole time. I went straight to Berlin after visiting him, and then everything was fine. He was even the one who directed me to go there.”
“Are your metal limbs sharp, Edward?”
“For the love of... No!” Edward held up his metal hand. “See for yourself. It’s not made to cut anything.”
“The situation is unclear,” Hughes said. “Why did you leave towards Berlin after seeing him?”
“To visit Ufa,” Edward said. “I talked to Otto Rippert as well, the director of the same picture. He can probably confirm that it was all innocent curiosity about the movie. I haven’t killed anyone.”
“Apparently,” Hughes said slowly. “Otto Rippert is missing as well. No trace of him anywhere since last night. After you visited him.”
Edward stared at him. “You’re kidding me...”
“No, I am not. Do you happen to know anything about it?”
“No,” Edward said sternly. “And I don’t know why Reinert would write like that about me in his diary. There was no such tension between us when I met him.”
“What about your meeting with Otto Rippert? Was there any sort of tension there?”
Edward became awfully quiet at that. How could he explain? He had a suspicion that he had stared at the guy like he had wanted to murder him, although he couldn’t remember for sure. Alfons had done a good job smoothing over it, but still. All he had seen when he laid his eyes on that man had been that bastard, Shou Tucker.
“Not going to answer?” Hughes sighed.
“There were some issues,” Edward admitted. “But I don’t have anything to do with his disappearance. Hell... Alfons and I even got attacked last night. The police in Berlin can confirm that. What if that guy has something to do with everything?”
Hughes frowned. “What guy?”
“I never saw his face,” Edward said sullenly. “But he attacked us and then tried to run off with Alfons. He had this incredible physical strength. I managed to stop him, but then he ran away. Alfons got some minor injuries from the incident.”
“I see. Could you describe this attacker?”
“He wore a big, long and black coat with a hood over his head,” Edward said. “About 180 centimetres tall. That’s all I know. Neither of us saw his face.”
“I see. What we’re completely certain of, is that the blood in the apartment belongs to Robert Reinert. It has already been confirmed,” Hughes said.
“I know nothing about that,” Edward stated.
“Then, do you know of anyone who does?”
Edward became silent for a while. “No. Unless that hooded man does. But he didn’t say anything coherent.”
Hughes nodded slowly. “Alright. That should be it for now.” He rose from his chair.
Edward raised too, his cuffed hands slamming down on the table. “Don’t say you’re going to lock me up, Hughes... I haven’t done anything wrong.” He couldn’t let this happen. He had nothing to do with this! Alfons would be worried if he got locked up in jail. And if that black hooded man had something to do with all this, what if he tried to target Alfons again? Who would be there to protect him if Edward couldn’t?
“For now,” Hughes said, “you can go, since I’m fortunately able to pull some strings. And because I certainly do not hope it’s you who is the culprit, Edward.”
Edward sighed in relief.
“However,” Hughes said. “You’re not allowed to leave the city. Otherwise, you’ll get towed right in and kept here until we can figure this out. Is that clear?”
Edward nodded with a scowl. “As glass.” Even with these restrictions he was relieved that they didn’t throw him in jail. He wouldn’t be of any use to Alfons in there.
“Good.” The officer stepped to him and released him from the handcuffs. “I’ll call you back in when I hear anything new,” Maes Hughes said. “Get some rest until then.”
“Like I can...” Edward muttered.
Hughes laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. If you’re innocent, you have nothing to fear.”
Edward nodded curtly and let Hughes follow him to the door, and the rest of the way out to the reception.
There, Alfons Heiderich sat in a chair in the waiting area, looking very lost and nervous. He gazed up as he noticed someone come, and jumped up from his seat the same instant he saw who it was. “Edward!”
Edward gave him a small wave and a soft smile. That moron had been worried already. “You could’ve just gone home, you know...”
“As if!” Alfons shot back. “Are you okay?”
Edward nodded. “For now. I’ll tell you everything once we get out.”
The pale sun lit up their way through the cracks in the thin clouds as they headed down an empty road from the centre of town. Since it was Sunday there weren’t many people around. Most of the stores were closed. The air was chilly, but Alfons could only worry about Edward. He was enlightened about the small interrogation, briefly.
“So... now they suspect you of being behind two disappearances, possibly deaths?” he surmised in a low voice.
“It appears that way,” Edward said darkly. “Though, it seems to me that someone is pushing all the blame on me, while being an enemy of that movie’s creators.”
“But who?” Alfons wondered.
“That’s what I’d like to know!” Edward said, feeling annoyed. “It seems like there’s still some more to this strange movie business.” His face suddenly shifted to an all too familiar determination, and Alfons already knew what his next words would be.
“If the police can’t find out who it is, I will.”
Alfons smiled. He was glad to have the old relentless and irrational Edward Elric back.--
The evening was cold and dark, the sky heavy with black cotton and occasional droning thunder. It was the perfect night for some danger or trouble, which they of course already were in. After leaving the police station they had gone home for a couple of hours and rested up. And now, the two of them were back in front of the house they had visited Saturday morning, where the recently vanished novelist Robert Reinert lived. There was no one there now, neither police nor inquisitive neighbours. But that didn’t make this more appealing or officially permitted, in Alfons Heiderich’s opinion. They had just broken into someone else’s home.
Why hadn’t they just stayed at home?
”I’m not so sure if this is a good idea,” Alfons insisted weakly. “This is a crime scene! And apparently they believe you did it, so why are we here again?” Wouldn’t showing up here create more suspicion towards Edward?
Edward stopped, tilting his head sideways slightly. “You are the only one who knows that I’m innocent, aren’t you?”
“I guess,” Alfons replied shakily. Thinking that Edward had attacked and possibly murdered Robert Reinert was of course ridiculous, and he had been together with Edward all this time.
“I want to check this place out myself for leads.” Edward clenched his fists together. “Or better, if the actual culprit comes back here, I want to be here to catch him.”
Alfons stared stifled at him, knowing that the anxiety he felt was written all over his blue eyes. But he knew Edward was right. If they didn’t find the real killer, Edward might be charged and punished for a crime he didn’t commit.
Edward turned back forward, observing the living room. There were large stains of crimson on the floor. He stepped into the living room and kneeled to the floor by the large spot, while scanning the rest of the room for more of them. But there was only one large one. There was no sign of a struggle. The attack must have happened so fast that Reinert didn’t have a chance to defend himself. Edward mused down to the floor. “There’s enough blood to assume that Reinert ended up unconscious, if not dead, but there’s no marks that indicate that the culprit dragged his victim away after knocking him out.”
“Yeah,” Alfons agreed. “That means he must have been quite strong, and carried him away.”
“Like that bastard did with you,” Edward muttered. “There’s a connection there. But one thing bugs me. Robert Reinert was attacked and disappeared after 11 AM yesterday, almost right after we left. Then someone attacked and possibly kidnapped Otto Rippert around 7:30 PM on the same day, apparently right after we left as well. How could the culprit get rid of Reinert, and then get his ass over to Berlin that fast?”
Alfons scowled. Edward was right. That didn’t fit.
“He could only have made it if he was on the same train as us, but then he wouldn’t have had the time to visit Robert Reinert, attack him and then hide his body,” Edward reasoned.
“Then he’s probably not alone,” Alfons said weakly. They were probably right in assuming that there were more of them. But who were these people?
Suddenly something creaked somewhere in the house, and they both froze. Alfons whipped his head around, but even if he was sure the sound had come from somewhere behind him there was nothing there.
“Ghost?” he squeaked.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Edward muttered, rising slowly to his feet and stared suspiciously towards the same spot as him. “Be quiet.”
Alfons took a deep breath, attempting to calm down his now racing heart, feeling it pounding in his ears. There was not another sound to hear. Edward moved quickly passed him back towards the hall and stopped there, poised like an alley cat and his sharp eyes piercing every corner for the potential threat. “Someone’s here, I’m sure.”
Alfons swallowed. The killer? Kidnapper? Or a ghost? Or the police?
Either way, he was still not convinced that staying here would make it much better. No matter who was here with them somewhere, they’d better hide from him and surprise the other intruder (or run away, but the latter was of course unthinkable to Edward). He stepped quickly towards Edward to tell him to hurry up and go, but then he stepped over a rug and stumbled clumsily forward. The rug followed with his foot and he fell to his knees on the floor. Luckily he managed to catch himself with his palms before he hurt himself badly.
Edward rushed to his side. “Are you all right?”
Alfons breathed heavily through his nose. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.”
Edward lifted his gaze, sighing in relief. Then he noticed the floor. Something was different with it at the spot underneath the rug that had been there a second ago. He grinned. “Bingo. Alfons, you did it.”
“I did what?” Alfons asked in dread.
Edward grabbed the mat and threw it away, off from the living room floor. Underneath it was a hidden door. Alfons stared in awe. “The writer had a hidden door?”
“Seems like it.” Edward was already opening it, and Alfons forgot everything about ghosts for a moment.
“Wait, it might not be safe.”
“We’ll find out,” Edward replied, as he shoved the heavy door open.
They stared down into the dark, silent hole. Alfons couldn’t even see the bottom, but a ladder was hanging down from the opening, pointing straight down into the unknown. This was crazy.
“Are you really going down there?”
“Of course I am! There might be a clue down there, and it might be exactly what we’re looking for.”
Alfons wondered what the hell they were looking for again, (a body?) but as always - there was no way of turning down Edward’s curiosity and persistency. He wondered if the police had known about the door, but it didn’t seem likely since it had been covered up until now.
Edward stepped down on the wooden ladder underneath. “Wait here,” he said.
“No way,” Alfons squeaked. “I’m not staying up here alone.”
Edward reconsidered it. “Alright, come then.”
Alfons followed as quietly as he could, even though, if there was a person down there, he would already know they were there, of course. That didn’t make things better. There was no light down in the basement, or whatever it was called. A small stream of light from the door in the roof reached down, but wasn’t much help. Edward dropped down on the ground, quickly followed by Alfons.
Golden eyes searched around the darkness, while they were both listening for any sound.
“Stop hiding and show yourself already,” Edward said out loud, assuming that someone was stalking them from the darkness. For all he knew, the sound they had heard earlier could in fact have come from below. He took further strides forward to show off his absence of fear.
In contradiction, Alfons was edgy. Everything seemed almost… too quiet. He had only gotten as far as thinking that thought before one set of cold fingers closed sharply around his throat and squeezed. He made an abrupt choked cry out in the dark, and shot his elbow behind him to get a punch at his attacker. Even if it hit, it didn’t seem to have any effect on him, because he simply gripped harder and his other cold hand pressed against his mouth and nose, blocking every sound he might try to utter.
Edward turned abruptly at the first sounds of the struggle and gasped. “Alfons!” Quickly he started back to aid his friend.
Alfons squirmed and muffled his protests into the cold hand that pressed at his mouth. He had felt nothing before he had been grabbed, and the thought disturbed him. How could someone move that soundless? It reminded him sickly of the assault in Berlin.
“Let go of him you fucking creep!” Edward bellowed, and a punching metal fist shot forward right above Alfons’ head. The grip around him loosened, but it was replaced soon after by an elbow chokehold. Alfons gasped and kicked behind him, aiming for the attacker’s knees. But the man didn’t even seem to sense it.
Alright, this wasn’t fun anymore. This monster tried to kill him, and he had barely reacted of either Edward’s punch or his struggle. Not even a sound. How could any person act like a punch of metal to the face directed by Edward was nothing?
The other hand shot forwards at Edward’s neck straight on, and squeezed. Edward gasped and clenched both of his hands around the assaulting hand. Alfons stared at him in shock. This guy was even overthrowing Edward, not to mention both of them at the same time. He knew of only one possible person it could be.
A low growl sounded behind him, and a warm breath trickled his ear. It made him shudder.
It was the same low grunt from last night. He looked down and got a glimpse of a long, black cloak.
“Shit,” he breathed. What bothered him the most was how inhuman and animalistic this person seemed.
“You again, huh?” Edward muttered. He squirmed and scooted out of the grip, his eyes describing that he had come to the same conclusion of his inhumanity. The cloaked man wasn’t wearing his hood this time. But it was still too dark to see his face clearly. “Release him, you creep!” he demanded. “What the hell are you?”
The man growled disgruntled and stepped forward to reach for Edward again. But this time Edward was quicker and ducked out of the way, luring the man into standing directly underneath the light of the opening above them in the ceiling. There the pale living room light revealed more details of his features.
His skin was inhumanly pallid and his skin looked scale-like akin to a reptile. His eyes were empty and dark, like two deep holes and it seemed like every intelligent part of his brain was out of function. But despite that, he somehow looked familiar...
Edward’s golden eyes hardened. “Come on and talk, you bastard!” He refused to give up. “Are you the one who killed Robert Reinert?”
The sound of the name made the man quirk a little, and then he suddenly tightened the grip around Alfons’ throat. Alfons gasped out. This man’s strength was ridiculous. “Edward, do something!” he managed.
Edward looked around in desperation, until he found a long iron pipe on the floor. He picked it up and leapt towards the man at light speed with the pipe in hand. With all his strength he slammed the vertical piece of iron into the man’s skull, making the head rip and blood flutter to the ceiling.
The man growled again and finally dropped Alfons as he sagged backwards to the shadows on the wall. Alfons fell to his knees, touching his abused throat in disbelief. He had nearly lost consciousness from lack of air. Edward dropped the pipe and stepped to him, dragging him further away from the man on the other side of the room.
“Are you okay?” he asked fast.
Alfons nodded shakily. “Are you sure he’s not a homunculus?”
“I don’t know anymore,” Edward admitted. “But he fits the qualities.”
“What should we do?” Alfons asked, getting to his feet. “We can’t let him hurt anyone else.”
“I slammed him in the head with an iron pipe and he hardly flinched,” Edward pointed out crossly.
“Then maybe we should call someone?” Alfons suggested.
“Like who? The police? You’ve gotta be kidding me!”
“What about Officer Hughes?” Alfons said. “I know he believes you’re innocent.”
Edward hesitated. Then suddenly the man recovered slightly from the confusion and headed towards them again. Edward stepped in front of Alfons to protect him, when suddenly the lights came on and blinded not only them, but the monstrous man as well.
Alfons covered his eyes from the sudden yellow light and Edward squinted around to see where the source of the light came from.
The cloaked man hid his face and growled in irritation. He was not the one who had turned on the lights. Then who was it?
Alfons made a sidelong gaze and spotted another man. He had dark-greyish hair and looked very familiar. But that wasn’t what worried Alfons the most. It was the gun.
Shortly after, he heard the sound of the gun which was powered by air. Therefore it wasn’t as loud as a normal gun would’ve sounded. “Edward...” he whispered, but then to his shock he noticed that Edward was sinking to his knees with a red dart arrow sticking out of his chest.
“Alfons... run!” Edward managed before he went sideways down to the floor.
Alfons stood stiffened and stared at him. No way he would run away and leave Edward. He looked up again, seeing the man reloading the tranquilizer gun.
“Robert Reinert...” Alfons said shakily. “What are you doing?” To his annoyance he found himself completely immobile already, mostly out of shock because Edward had gone out cold. These people were overpowering even Edward, so what the hell could he do?
What was going on? Was he dreaming?
“Go to sleep, Alfons Heiderich,” the man who was supposed to be disappeared replied. “Goodnight.” He shot a second time, before Alfons could say anything more. The small arrow struck his shoulder, and before he knew it his eyes were rolling back into his skull and he unwillingly gave his mind and body away, over to blackness.
--
Go to Chapter 4
--
Early the next morning they were sitting on the train on their way back to Munich. The landscape blurred away in front of Alfons’ vision as he stared hazily out the window, his mind exhausted from the lack of sleep the previous night.
Edward had found some people last night and asked them for the way to the nearest open doctor’s office. Fortunately it had only been a few blocks away. The doctor had patched up Alfons’ wound, prescribed him some painkillers and told him to rest for a couple of days.
When they had arrived back at the hotel that night they had gotten a new room and the police had been investigating around the area. Edward sent Alfons up to the room to rest while he talked with one of the officers and described the culprit.
Even if Alfons was grateful, he hadn’t been able to get a single moment of rest, at least not alone. He felt a little nervous that the man in the cloak would come back. He still wondered why he had taken him. Why him?
When Edward had returned he at least had had a warm body to cling onto and Edward had comfortingly stroked his back until he fell into a light sleep. And even if Alfons had said he wasn’t able to fall asleep on trains, he didn’t find it that hard this time.
He awoke hours later from the uneven lurching of the train car, his head propped on Edward’s metallic shoulder and his eyes blurred and stingy.
“Hey,” Edward said softly. “You alive?”
Alfons chuckled in a low tone. “Yeah. What’s the time?”
“2:30 PM. We’ll be in Munich soon.”
“Good,” Alfons murmured. He had started to miss Munich. It would be nice to come home and be away from maniacs.
Unfortunately it wouldn’t be that easy. As soon as they went off the train, Alfons understood that something was terribly wrong. The station was booked with police cars everywhere. Had there been an accident?
He went close to Edward’s side as they headed towards the guarded exit from the station. It seemed like the police were combing through everyone who left the trains.
“What’s going on here?” Edward muttered.
“No idea.” Then he saw Officer Hughes, who noticed them as well. He immediately signalled some of his police colleagues and stepped forward to meet them.
“Edward Elric,” he said. “I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me to the police station.”
Edward and Alfons frowned and exchanged a look. Had this something to do with the assault they had experienced in Berlin?
“What is it?” Edward asked, just as one of the police men fastened a pair of handcuffs around his wrists. Edward was startled and immediately protested, but the man held onto his arm to keep him in place.
“Hughes, what the hell?”
“I’m sorry about this,” Hughes said. “You’ll find out at the station. Just come with us quietly now, please. You can come too, Alfons.”
Edward stopped struggling and scowled at him. Hughes looked strange. What was wrong here? “Fine,” he said slowly, and Alfons nodded nervously. Was Edward really being arrested? What for?
They followed after Hughes towards one of the police cars.
At the station Alfons was directed to wait while they took Edward in for interrogation. He felt slightly anxious. He had a feeling that this involved something else completely than what they had encountered in Berlin. But what?
Edward stepped silently after Hughes with his hands restrained in iron in front of him, doubting only more and more his awareness of what was going on at all. He had already disposed of the thought of it concerning the matter in Berlin. So what could it be? When had he done anything to be arrested for? Had something else happened while they were away?
“In here, please,” Hughes said, and held a door open for Edward to enter. “Take a seat.”
Edward stepped cautiously into the small room and sat down on a chair by a table.
“Mr. Elric,” Hughes said formally as he closed the door. “Maybe you can explain where you were around 11 AM yesterday.”
Edward scowled circumspectly at him. “What is this all about?”
“Just answer my questions, please.”
“Yesterday 11 AM,” Edward repeated slowly. “I was visiting a man called Robert Reinert.”
Hughes looked at him in disbelief for a second. “What business did you have with him?”
Edward tensed. “Nothing special, really. I had seen his movie the day before and wanted to speak to him about it, but I’m done with all that now.”
“You were seeing him about the movie?”
“So what?”
“Well, what do you think of the movie?” Hughes asked, seeming to ask the questions completely randomly to Edward.
“It was interesting. Look, I don’t know what you’re asking me these questions for. Care to fill me in, as a friend?” he prodded. Hughes was someone he knew quite well, after all. Edward’s eyes narrowed at his silence. “Has something happened to Robert Reinert?” Maybe there was something really serious going on here, after all.
Hughes sighed deeply. “You know he has received a lot of enemies because of the manuscript of his last movie, don’t you?”
“I’m not too familiar with that, but I guess I’ve heard some rumours about it,” Edward said casually. “People left the hall before the movie was over. It was said someone even went mad.”
“Yes, that’s right. Some people have been committed into the asylum after seeing it. So it’s not really strange that he has some enemies.”
“That doesn’t explain why I’m here,” Edward muttered. “Or what has happened to him.”
Hughes scowled and sat down on the chair opposite of Edward, thoughtfully rubbing his forehead. “Apparently, Robert Reinert has disappeared. There was blood in his apartment, but no body. Although it seemed to be a fatal injury.”
“What?” Edward stifled, his eyes widening. “Is he dead?”
“We don’t know yet. For all we know, someone killed him and hid his body. The police hope you can give us further details. We found this.” He held up a small book with a leather cover. It was handwritten, and Hughes held up a page in front of Edward’s nose. “This was written apparently shortly after you visited him this morning.”
Edward let his eyes scan the page.
“I had a visitor today, a young man by the name of Edward Elric. His eyes were as golden and dangerous as the sun. His limbs were of sharp metal like knives longing for my death. I need to be very careful, or else he’ll try to kill me as many others right now. My movie wasn’t supposed to cause all this, but I had to show the world the truth ...”
Edward’s eyes widened. “Did he think I wanted to kill him...?” His cuffed hands shook lightly in his lap and his face darkened. “Hey Hughes... Is that handwriting the same as in the rest of that diary?”
Maes Hughes nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
“So now I’m suspected for murder?” Edward deduced in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous! Alfons was with me the whole time. I went straight to Berlin after visiting him, and then everything was fine. He was even the one who directed me to go there.”
“Are your metal limbs sharp, Edward?”
“For the love of... No!” Edward held up his metal hand. “See for yourself. It’s not made to cut anything.”
“The situation is unclear,” Hughes said. “Why did you leave towards Berlin after seeing him?”
“To visit Ufa,” Edward said. “I talked to Otto Rippert as well, the director of the same picture. He can probably confirm that it was all innocent curiosity about the movie. I haven’t killed anyone.”
“Apparently,” Hughes said slowly. “Otto Rippert is missing as well. No trace of him anywhere since last night. After you visited him.”
Edward stared at him. “You’re kidding me...”
“No, I am not. Do you happen to know anything about it?”
“No,” Edward said sternly. “And I don’t know why Reinert would write like that about me in his diary. There was no such tension between us when I met him.”
“What about your meeting with Otto Rippert? Was there any sort of tension there?”
Edward became awfully quiet at that. How could he explain? He had a suspicion that he had stared at the guy like he had wanted to murder him, although he couldn’t remember for sure. Alfons had done a good job smoothing over it, but still. All he had seen when he laid his eyes on that man had been that bastard, Shou Tucker.
“Not going to answer?” Hughes sighed.
“There were some issues,” Edward admitted. “But I don’t have anything to do with his disappearance. Hell... Alfons and I even got attacked last night. The police in Berlin can confirm that. What if that guy has something to do with everything?”
Hughes frowned. “What guy?”
“I never saw his face,” Edward said sullenly. “But he attacked us and then tried to run off with Alfons. He had this incredible physical strength. I managed to stop him, but then he ran away. Alfons got some minor injuries from the incident.”
“I see. Could you describe this attacker?”
“He wore a big, long and black coat with a hood over his head,” Edward said. “About 180 centimetres tall. That’s all I know. Neither of us saw his face.”
“I see. What we’re completely certain of, is that the blood in the apartment belongs to Robert Reinert. It has already been confirmed,” Hughes said.
“I know nothing about that,” Edward stated.
“Then, do you know of anyone who does?”
Edward became silent for a while. “No. Unless that hooded man does. But he didn’t say anything coherent.”
Hughes nodded slowly. “Alright. That should be it for now.” He rose from his chair.
Edward raised too, his cuffed hands slamming down on the table. “Don’t say you’re going to lock me up, Hughes... I haven’t done anything wrong.” He couldn’t let this happen. He had nothing to do with this! Alfons would be worried if he got locked up in jail. And if that black hooded man had something to do with all this, what if he tried to target Alfons again? Who would be there to protect him if Edward couldn’t?
“For now,” Hughes said, “you can go, since I’m fortunately able to pull some strings. And because I certainly do not hope it’s you who is the culprit, Edward.”
Edward sighed in relief.
“However,” Hughes said. “You’re not allowed to leave the city. Otherwise, you’ll get towed right in and kept here until we can figure this out. Is that clear?”
Edward nodded with a scowl. “As glass.” Even with these restrictions he was relieved that they didn’t throw him in jail. He wouldn’t be of any use to Alfons in there.
“Good.” The officer stepped to him and released him from the handcuffs. “I’ll call you back in when I hear anything new,” Maes Hughes said. “Get some rest until then.”
“Like I can...” Edward muttered.
Hughes laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. If you’re innocent, you have nothing to fear.”
Edward nodded curtly and let Hughes follow him to the door, and the rest of the way out to the reception.
There, Alfons Heiderich sat in a chair in the waiting area, looking very lost and nervous. He gazed up as he noticed someone come, and jumped up from his seat the same instant he saw who it was. “Edward!”
Edward gave him a small wave and a soft smile. That moron had been worried already. “You could’ve just gone home, you know...”
“As if!” Alfons shot back. “Are you okay?”
Edward nodded. “For now. I’ll tell you everything once we get out.”
The pale sun lit up their way through the cracks in the thin clouds as they headed down an empty road from the centre of town. Since it was Sunday there weren’t many people around. Most of the stores were closed. The air was chilly, but Alfons could only worry about Edward. He was enlightened about the small interrogation, briefly.
“So... now they suspect you of being behind two disappearances, possibly deaths?” he surmised in a low voice.
“It appears that way,” Edward said darkly. “Though, it seems to me that someone is pushing all the blame on me, while being an enemy of that movie’s creators.”
“But who?” Alfons wondered.
“That’s what I’d like to know!” Edward said, feeling annoyed. “It seems like there’s still some more to this strange movie business.” His face suddenly shifted to an all too familiar determination, and Alfons already knew what his next words would be.
“If the police can’t find out who it is, I will.”
Alfons smiled. He was glad to have the old relentless and irrational Edward Elric back.--
The evening was cold and dark, the sky heavy with black cotton and occasional droning thunder. It was the perfect night for some danger or trouble, which they of course already were in. After leaving the police station they had gone home for a couple of hours and rested up. And now, the two of them were back in front of the house they had visited Saturday morning, where the recently vanished novelist Robert Reinert lived. There was no one there now, neither police nor inquisitive neighbours. But that didn’t make this more appealing or officially permitted, in Alfons Heiderich’s opinion. They had just broken into someone else’s home.
Why hadn’t they just stayed at home?
”I’m not so sure if this is a good idea,” Alfons insisted weakly. “This is a crime scene! And apparently they believe you did it, so why are we here again?” Wouldn’t showing up here create more suspicion towards Edward?
Edward stopped, tilting his head sideways slightly. “You are the only one who knows that I’m innocent, aren’t you?”
“I guess,” Alfons replied shakily. Thinking that Edward had attacked and possibly murdered Robert Reinert was of course ridiculous, and he had been together with Edward all this time.
“I want to check this place out myself for leads.” Edward clenched his fists together. “Or better, if the actual culprit comes back here, I want to be here to catch him.”
Alfons stared stifled at him, knowing that the anxiety he felt was written all over his blue eyes. But he knew Edward was right. If they didn’t find the real killer, Edward might be charged and punished for a crime he didn’t commit.
Edward turned back forward, observing the living room. There were large stains of crimson on the floor. He stepped into the living room and kneeled to the floor by the large spot, while scanning the rest of the room for more of them. But there was only one large one. There was no sign of a struggle. The attack must have happened so fast that Reinert didn’t have a chance to defend himself. Edward mused down to the floor. “There’s enough blood to assume that Reinert ended up unconscious, if not dead, but there’s no marks that indicate that the culprit dragged his victim away after knocking him out.”
“Yeah,” Alfons agreed. “That means he must have been quite strong, and carried him away.”
“Like that bastard did with you,” Edward muttered. “There’s a connection there. But one thing bugs me. Robert Reinert was attacked and disappeared after 11 AM yesterday, almost right after we left. Then someone attacked and possibly kidnapped Otto Rippert around 7:30 PM on the same day, apparently right after we left as well. How could the culprit get rid of Reinert, and then get his ass over to Berlin that fast?”
Alfons scowled. Edward was right. That didn’t fit.
“He could only have made it if he was on the same train as us, but then he wouldn’t have had the time to visit Robert Reinert, attack him and then hide his body,” Edward reasoned.
“Then he’s probably not alone,” Alfons said weakly. They were probably right in assuming that there were more of them. But who were these people?
Suddenly something creaked somewhere in the house, and they both froze. Alfons whipped his head around, but even if he was sure the sound had come from somewhere behind him there was nothing there.
“Ghost?” he squeaked.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Edward muttered, rising slowly to his feet and stared suspiciously towards the same spot as him. “Be quiet.”
Alfons took a deep breath, attempting to calm down his now racing heart, feeling it pounding in his ears. There was not another sound to hear. Edward moved quickly passed him back towards the hall and stopped there, poised like an alley cat and his sharp eyes piercing every corner for the potential threat. “Someone’s here, I’m sure.”
Alfons swallowed. The killer? Kidnapper? Or a ghost? Or the police?
Either way, he was still not convinced that staying here would make it much better. No matter who was here with them somewhere, they’d better hide from him and surprise the other intruder (or run away, but the latter was of course unthinkable to Edward). He stepped quickly towards Edward to tell him to hurry up and go, but then he stepped over a rug and stumbled clumsily forward. The rug followed with his foot and he fell to his knees on the floor. Luckily he managed to catch himself with his palms before he hurt himself badly.
Edward rushed to his side. “Are you all right?”
Alfons breathed heavily through his nose. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.”
Edward lifted his gaze, sighing in relief. Then he noticed the floor. Something was different with it at the spot underneath the rug that had been there a second ago. He grinned. “Bingo. Alfons, you did it.”
“I did what?” Alfons asked in dread.
Edward grabbed the mat and threw it away, off from the living room floor. Underneath it was a hidden door. Alfons stared in awe. “The writer had a hidden door?”
“Seems like it.” Edward was already opening it, and Alfons forgot everything about ghosts for a moment.
“Wait, it might not be safe.”
“We’ll find out,” Edward replied, as he shoved the heavy door open.
They stared down into the dark, silent hole. Alfons couldn’t even see the bottom, but a ladder was hanging down from the opening, pointing straight down into the unknown. This was crazy.
“Are you really going down there?”
“Of course I am! There might be a clue down there, and it might be exactly what we’re looking for.”
Alfons wondered what the hell they were looking for again, (a body?) but as always - there was no way of turning down Edward’s curiosity and persistency. He wondered if the police had known about the door, but it didn’t seem likely since it had been covered up until now.
Edward stepped down on the wooden ladder underneath. “Wait here,” he said.
“No way,” Alfons squeaked. “I’m not staying up here alone.”
Edward reconsidered it. “Alright, come then.”
Alfons followed as quietly as he could, even though, if there was a person down there, he would already know they were there, of course. That didn’t make things better. There was no light down in the basement, or whatever it was called. A small stream of light from the door in the roof reached down, but wasn’t much help. Edward dropped down on the ground, quickly followed by Alfons.
Golden eyes searched around the darkness, while they were both listening for any sound.
“Stop hiding and show yourself already,” Edward said out loud, assuming that someone was stalking them from the darkness. For all he knew, the sound they had heard earlier could in fact have come from below. He took further strides forward to show off his absence of fear.
In contradiction, Alfons was edgy. Everything seemed almost… too quiet. He had only gotten as far as thinking that thought before one set of cold fingers closed sharply around his throat and squeezed. He made an abrupt choked cry out in the dark, and shot his elbow behind him to get a punch at his attacker. Even if it hit, it didn’t seem to have any effect on him, because he simply gripped harder and his other cold hand pressed against his mouth and nose, blocking every sound he might try to utter.
Edward turned abruptly at the first sounds of the struggle and gasped. “Alfons!” Quickly he started back to aid his friend.
Alfons squirmed and muffled his protests into the cold hand that pressed at his mouth. He had felt nothing before he had been grabbed, and the thought disturbed him. How could someone move that soundless? It reminded him sickly of the assault in Berlin.
“Let go of him you fucking creep!” Edward bellowed, and a punching metal fist shot forward right above Alfons’ head. The grip around him loosened, but it was replaced soon after by an elbow chokehold. Alfons gasped and kicked behind him, aiming for the attacker’s knees. But the man didn’t even seem to sense it.
Alright, this wasn’t fun anymore. This monster tried to kill him, and he had barely reacted of either Edward’s punch or his struggle. Not even a sound. How could any person act like a punch of metal to the face directed by Edward was nothing?
The other hand shot forwards at Edward’s neck straight on, and squeezed. Edward gasped and clenched both of his hands around the assaulting hand. Alfons stared at him in shock. This guy was even overthrowing Edward, not to mention both of them at the same time. He knew of only one possible person it could be.
A low growl sounded behind him, and a warm breath trickled his ear. It made him shudder.
It was the same low grunt from last night. He looked down and got a glimpse of a long, black cloak.
“Shit,” he breathed. What bothered him the most was how inhuman and animalistic this person seemed.
“You again, huh?” Edward muttered. He squirmed and scooted out of the grip, his eyes describing that he had come to the same conclusion of his inhumanity. The cloaked man wasn’t wearing his hood this time. But it was still too dark to see his face clearly. “Release him, you creep!” he demanded. “What the hell are you?”
The man growled disgruntled and stepped forward to reach for Edward again. But this time Edward was quicker and ducked out of the way, luring the man into standing directly underneath the light of the opening above them in the ceiling. There the pale living room light revealed more details of his features.
His skin was inhumanly pallid and his skin looked scale-like akin to a reptile. His eyes were empty and dark, like two deep holes and it seemed like every intelligent part of his brain was out of function. But despite that, he somehow looked familiar...
Edward’s golden eyes hardened. “Come on and talk, you bastard!” He refused to give up. “Are you the one who killed Robert Reinert?”
The sound of the name made the man quirk a little, and then he suddenly tightened the grip around Alfons’ throat. Alfons gasped out. This man’s strength was ridiculous. “Edward, do something!” he managed.
Edward looked around in desperation, until he found a long iron pipe on the floor. He picked it up and leapt towards the man at light speed with the pipe in hand. With all his strength he slammed the vertical piece of iron into the man’s skull, making the head rip and blood flutter to the ceiling.
The man growled again and finally dropped Alfons as he sagged backwards to the shadows on the wall. Alfons fell to his knees, touching his abused throat in disbelief. He had nearly lost consciousness from lack of air. Edward dropped the pipe and stepped to him, dragging him further away from the man on the other side of the room.
“Are you okay?” he asked fast.
Alfons nodded shakily. “Are you sure he’s not a homunculus?”
“I don’t know anymore,” Edward admitted. “But he fits the qualities.”
“What should we do?” Alfons asked, getting to his feet. “We can’t let him hurt anyone else.”
“I slammed him in the head with an iron pipe and he hardly flinched,” Edward pointed out crossly.
“Then maybe we should call someone?” Alfons suggested.
“Like who? The police? You’ve gotta be kidding me!”
“What about Officer Hughes?” Alfons said. “I know he believes you’re innocent.”
Edward hesitated. Then suddenly the man recovered slightly from the confusion and headed towards them again. Edward stepped in front of Alfons to protect him, when suddenly the lights came on and blinded not only them, but the monstrous man as well.
Alfons covered his eyes from the sudden yellow light and Edward squinted around to see where the source of the light came from.
The cloaked man hid his face and growled in irritation. He was not the one who had turned on the lights. Then who was it?
Alfons made a sidelong gaze and spotted another man. He had dark-greyish hair and looked very familiar. But that wasn’t what worried Alfons the most. It was the gun.
Shortly after, he heard the sound of the gun which was powered by air. Therefore it wasn’t as loud as a normal gun would’ve sounded. “Edward...” he whispered, but then to his shock he noticed that Edward was sinking to his knees with a red dart arrow sticking out of his chest.
“Alfons... run!” Edward managed before he went sideways down to the floor.
Alfons stood stiffened and stared at him. No way he would run away and leave Edward. He looked up again, seeing the man reloading the tranquilizer gun.
“Robert Reinert...” Alfons said shakily. “What are you doing?” To his annoyance he found himself completely immobile already, mostly out of shock because Edward had gone out cold. These people were overpowering even Edward, so what the hell could he do?
What was going on? Was he dreaming?
“Go to sleep, Alfons Heiderich,” the man who was supposed to be disappeared replied. “Goodnight.” He shot a second time, before Alfons could say anything more. The small arrow struck his shoulder, and before he knew it his eyes were rolling back into his skull and he unwillingly gave his mind and body away, over to blackness.
--
Go to Chapter 4