Misery Looms

Chapter 4 - Counting the Days

Day One

Eyes opened to a room covered in shadows. Hawkeye looked at the machine monitoring Edward's heart, slow sharp beats spilled out. She uncurled her fingers from Ed's hand and looked around the room. Nothing changed, except curtains covering the window. Sunlight tried to push its way in, treating to spill over the curtain edges.

Knock

Hawkeye jumped, hand swung to the gun on her waist, eyes snapped to the door.

"It's Second Lieutenant Havoc. Can I come in?" 

Hawkeye took a deep breath and relaxed, false alarm. She sat up straight with hands folded on her lap.

"Yes, come in." She said with a steady voice.

The door slid open. Havoc walked in and asked, "How is he?"

"Right now the same as last night, stable."

"That's all we can wish for." Havoc said with a shrugged. "Your shift is over. I will be taking it from here. The Coronel said you could have the day off if you wish." 

"Is there any more information about the situation?" Hawkeye asked, getting up and facing Havoc.

"According to Al, Edward started to act strange after they went with Hughes to that abandoned building. The reports said the building showed no signs of inhabitants. Hughes is retracing Edward's steps to see if it will uncover what happened. So far, there's nothing." Havoc said.

"How's Alphonse?"

"Worried sick and it didn't help when he found out Edward stopped breathing."

Everyone felt guilty keeping Alphonse, but they needed answers or leads or both. He spent the last day and a half telling Roy's team what happened the last couple of days. That's why Alphonse wasn't here in a chair holding Edward's hand.

"If that's all, then I will be taking my leave," Hawkeye said.

She walked out of the room and down the hall, hoping something came out of all these endless questions and running around. Hoping this wasn't a waste of everyone's time.

Day Two

The sound of autumn leaves rustling was mixed with voices from a mob of people standing around gawking. Military officers entered and exited an ally that was sandwiched between a bar and a clothing store. Maes Hughes stood off to the side of the entrance getting bits and pieces of the horrors that lay on the stone floor covered in shadows. 

Yet another victim. He thought while looking at the crowd who were all trying to look in.

No matter how twisted, they could piece together what she - the victim's - last moments were like. The theory: the murderer chased the victim throughout the twisted ally. The evidence was the victim's shoes left scattered on cobblestone paths liked bread crumbs. The only wound beside the two punctures was a scrapped knee. Without witness or clues, the theory would most like stay a theory.

"Excuse me, sir ... sir."

Hughes's eyes followed the voice of a woman in her 40s squeezing through the mob, trying to get to the officer standing by crime scene tape. The women looked frantic, hair was thrown into something that could hardly be called a bun and she forgot to take off her apron. She got to the officer and showed him a photo. Hughes caught the look in her eyes, frightened, but hopeful.

"My daughter went drinking with a couple friends last night and she didn't come home." The women said while the officer looked at the photo.

"Miss, I'm going to have to ask a few questions, follow me."