FullMetal Crafters

Episode One: The Two Brothers

I've made alot of promises, but this is one I will keep. I will try my best to update frequently. I am really excited for this book and I hope everyone else is too! So please, if you can, stick around till the end and it will all be worth it! Thank you to my inspiration:

alleycat01134 and @PandemonicDawn

Now, enjoy FullMetal Crafters.
~~~~

Electricity crackled through the room. Blinding him. Where was his little brother? Groping around, gasping for air. He couldn't see.

"Simon!" he shouted. He recieved no response. He was bleeding out quickly; he had to get out. "Simon! Where are you?!" Gritting his teeth in pain, looking down in complete shock.

Why was this happening? Hadn't they been in enough pain already? Choking, sobbing, shivering. His left leg was gone. Replaced with a bloody stump. Why was this happening to them?! Bone sticking out of flesh, and skin hanging off by bloody strings.

Life requires sacrifice.

Grunting in pain, tears mingling with blood. The bright blue electricity finally dimmed to a low ember, sudden spurts of shock coming from the center of the blood-soaked room.

"Give me back my little brother!" Martin screamed, dragging himself across the floor to the transmutation circle. "Give him back! He's all I have left!" Where was his joyfilled, sweet younger brother?

He was starting to get dizzy; he was losing too much blood. Breathing softly, beginning to fade away.

"Help...me....someone.....Mom...."

Martin looked up tearfully, staring at the breathing, distorted figure where his mother should be standing.

"Mom...Help me..."

However, nothing is valuable enough for a human soul.

FIVE YEARS LATER...

"Praise thy Lord, for he who sins shall be forgiven..."

He chuckled, the bright orange straw brushing against his lips. "Listen to this, Simon. Praise thy Lord..."

Simon turned towards his older brother and softly hit him on the head. "Don't insult other people's religion, Martin. Just because you don't believe-"

"It isn't that!" Martin laughed at his brother's motherly tendancies. "I'm just agnostic. Nothing big. I was just thinking 'What is this crap?'"

As Simon screamed "Brother!", the shopowner, who watched the two sitting at the open bar, quirked his eyebrow. "I was just about to ask you young men the same thing. What are you exactly? Performers?"

The two boys stared confused at each other amd then their attire. Martin wore a black blazer and white button-up, complete with black pants, black gloves, black shoes and an orange tie, making his pale skin and dark hair stand out. Simon was the complete opposite; he wore a longsleeved bright orange shirt with a small pocket on his breastbone that had a blue S on it, black and white gloves, blue sneakers, blue jeans and a watermelon patterned bandana wrapped around his forehead.
For being in the middle of a desert, they really did stand out.

Simon blushed as his older brother stood on the stool and screamed at the top of his lungs, "WHAT THE HELL OLD MAN?! DO WE LOOK LIKE PREFORMERS TO YOU?!"

"N-No!" The man suddenly screamed, startled. "I j-just meant I hav-haven't seen your faces around here be-before!" Martin gritted his teeth as he sat back down, getting a nasty glare from Simon.