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“Go on this mission, they said, it'll be easy, they said! Easy my ass! That stupid smug bastard is trying to get me killed.”
Not only had that bastard sent Edward out on a manhunt alone, but Alphonse had chosen this moment to stay back in East City to pursue a new lead on the stone.
Turned out the stupid “man” Ed was sent to hunt was actually the head of an underground drug cartel, something Ed discovered when he turned from the ambusher to the ambushee in the span of a second.
Now he was stuck, chained to the floor, and missing an arm in a cramped, cold, concrete room.
Oh, and don’t forget the KILLER headache that would not let Ed forget about the fact his head had been smashed in by the butt of a rifle.
After he had been knocked out, he had stripped off his jacket and pocket watch and was surprisingly being kept alive, seemingly to be questioned about the military’s knowledge of this cartel.
“Meaning it’s time to get out of here,” Ed murmured as he got to work leaning over and biting down on his finger, drawing blood, before beginning to draw a circle where the chain met the floor. He finished up, activating the circle and standing up as the chain morphed falling off his wrist and changing into a short metal bar.
And somehow (on par with Ed's shitty luck) that was the moment the door began to creak open.
With little time to act and even less time to think Ed snatched up the metal bar and launched himself toward the man opening the door. The man jerked reaching for his holster, but Ed was faster and the man crumpled to the floor before making it there. Ed took the chance to bolt, racing out of the room before more guards could show up.
He must not have hit the man hard enough because one moment he was running across the hall and the next his already splitting headache exploded as a loud bang resounded across the damp gray concrete walls. As Ed's eyes began to blur an intense ringing took over his hearing and sudden sharp pain began to bloom in his lower back.
Running on pure adrenaline Ed stumbled down the hallway leaning heavily against the wall. After making turn after turn in the maze-like facility, his back burning with increasing pain, Ed knew he couldn’t keep going, so he pulled himself into the first room he found and collapsed in front of the door as soon as it shut behind him.
From there everything began to swim around in Ed's head, his thoughts becoming syrupy and his consciousness fading in and out.
Just as he was about to fade yet again into unconscious rest, the door banged open, throwing him across the room and startling him enough to kick up the adrenaline. The same man who Ed had struck was now looming over Ed, his forehead bleeding sluggishly and a furious sneer fixed on his face.
“How did you find me?” Ed barked or tried to as it came out sounding more like a whine. He was ignored as the man walked up and seized Ed’s wrist harshly pulling (more like dragging) him toward the door. “You’re coming with me, you little Shit.”
As Ed was pulled back down the hallway to the room he had tried so hard to escape from he got his answer. The hallway wall and floor were covered in red streaks and handprints sporadically leading all the way to his cell.
He had been caught by his own blood trial.