Halloween
Halloween Drabble
Rating: PG
Paring: Implied Elricest
Warnings: Humor, somewhat OOC Roy, Cheesiness, Present Pov
Description: A re-visitation to wear house 13. Think of this in terms of a campfire story. Kinda cheesy, but fun if you're in the right mood
Disclaimer: I do not own FMA, or any associated characters, locations, and trademarks. Though I wish I did.
The Fuhrur pauses, tilting his head slightly to try and hear beter. For a moment he could have sworn there was a slight moan in the air, but it was gone so quickly he couldn't be sure. Since losing his eye in the coup he staged, his hearing had become more acute, and if he was still as reliant on his sight it's likely he would have missed the sound completely. The next time it comes he is more certain of hearing it, a low, drawn out sigh carried on the mist. With Halloween less than a week away, the ware house area has a more spooky feel to it than normal, low hanging mist drifting slowly between the large buildings. He knows there is no ware house 13, and no spirits of dead soldiers haunting it, but it's easy to forget those facts on a night like this. Roy speeds up his steps, the hollow sound of his boots on the cement echoing behind him. He isn't -scared-, per se, but there's no denying the situation is a little creepy. Especially when the next moan comes louder, a touch of pain sounding through the thick air. "Aooouuu...." Roy stops to glare over his shoulder at any specters that might be considering attacking him from behind, too much of a man to glance nervously. There is nothing, though, only the soft shapes created by the drifting mist, and he wonders if Breda and Furey are playing some kind of practical joke, but neither of them would have the guts to come into this area after dark to pull it off. He isn't going to hang around to find out after the horrible scream that shatters the silence, sounding exactly like an old-world banshee. "AAAAHHHHOOOWWWW!!!!" Deciding that discretion is the better part of valor, not cowardice, he walks quickly, headed for the exit of the yard. He'll delegate someone to come and check it out tomorrow.
_____
Much later, two figures slip quietly out of a small tool shed near the empty lot, the shorter one moving a bit slowly. Ed is frowning, a look of concentration on his face as he tries to walk normally. Al is grinning widely, like a cheshire cat. "Next time don't squirm around so much, Nii-san, and it won't hurt as badly, ne?"
Rating: PG
Paring: Implied Elricest
Warnings: Humor, somewhat OOC Roy, Cheesiness, Present Pov
Description: A re-visitation to wear house 13. Think of this in terms of a campfire story. Kinda cheesy, but fun if you're in the right mood
Disclaimer: I do not own FMA, or any associated characters, locations, and trademarks. Though I wish I did.
The Fuhrur pauses, tilting his head slightly to try and hear beter. For a moment he could have sworn there was a slight moan in the air, but it was gone so quickly he couldn't be sure. Since losing his eye in the coup he staged, his hearing had become more acute, and if he was still as reliant on his sight it's likely he would have missed the sound completely. The next time it comes he is more certain of hearing it, a low, drawn out sigh carried on the mist. With Halloween less than a week away, the ware house area has a more spooky feel to it than normal, low hanging mist drifting slowly between the large buildings. He knows there is no ware house 13, and no spirits of dead soldiers haunting it, but it's easy to forget those facts on a night like this. Roy speeds up his steps, the hollow sound of his boots on the cement echoing behind him. He isn't -scared-, per se, but there's no denying the situation is a little creepy. Especially when the next moan comes louder, a touch of pain sounding through the thick air. "Aooouuu...." Roy stops to glare over his shoulder at any specters that might be considering attacking him from behind, too much of a man to glance nervously. There is nothing, though, only the soft shapes created by the drifting mist, and he wonders if Breda and Furey are playing some kind of practical joke, but neither of them would have the guts to come into this area after dark to pull it off. He isn't going to hang around to find out after the horrible scream that shatters the silence, sounding exactly like an old-world banshee. "AAAAHHHHOOOWWWW!!!!" Deciding that discretion is the better part of valor, not cowardice, he walks quickly, headed for the exit of the yard. He'll delegate someone to come and check it out tomorrow.
_____
Much later, two figures slip quietly out of a small tool shed near the empty lot, the shorter one moving a bit slowly. Ed is frowning, a look of concentration on his face as he tries to walk normally. Al is grinning widely, like a cheshire cat. "Next time don't squirm around so much, Nii-san, and it won't hurt as badly, ne?"