Morphed

Chapter Twenty Nine

I try to face the fight within
But it's over
I'm ready for the riot to begin
And surrender
I walked the path that led me to the end
Remember
I'm caught beneath with nothing left to give
Forever

~Angels Fall (Breaking Benjamin)

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Previously:

Ed groaned as Envy jumped down a small ledge in the ground and more blood spurted from his mouth, some of it landing on Envy's clothes and exposed skin, but most falling to the ground to stain the bright green grass a dark shade of rust.

Even in Ed's muddled state of mind, an idea sprang forth.

He extended his claws, and, biting his tongue, he sliced those claws through his left lower arm (and partially over the wrist), deep enough to cause a significant amount of blood to well from the wound and leak onto the ground.

He rose his eyes and saw that he was leaving a very fine blood trail behind, just clear enough that you could notice it without looking for it. He prayed that Envy didn't turn around and see.

./././././././././

Somewhere along the way, Ed passed out due to a combination of mental exhaustion and blood loss. He briefly wondered if he'd die right here on Envy's shoulder before the darkness pulled him under. He was only slightly relived to find himself awake and, surprisingly, alive, in a cell relatively similar to the one he'd been in last time. Except this time instead of being shackled to a wall, chains were coiled tightly around each wrist and strung up to the roof in a wide 'v' formation, so that Ed would never be able to clap his hands together. Well, they learned, it seemed. There were also good ole' fashioned ball n' chain on each ankle.

Well, at least they're creative, he thought.

Drowsily he looked about himself, but there wasn't much to see. The walls were the same pale clay as they were last time, although, somewhat worryingly, the wall to his direct right was splattered with dried blood. Lot's of it. He shuddered, and did his best to avoid looking at it.

Though he couldn't help but wonder if his own blood would soon accompany it.

Stop that, he told himself. He'd figure a way out of this. He had yet to be graced by the presence of any of the Homunculi thus far, and if he thought quickly he might be able to escape before any of them came to greet him. He tugged on his wrists and realised that was highly unlikely. The chains were coiled so tightly around his wrists that they'd already started rub enough to leave his skin red and sore, and he didn't think it'd be very long before his skin tore. He lifted up each of his feet but didn't get very far; the chains attaching his ankles to the heavy weights were short and didn't allow him much room to wander from them.

The wounds on his left arm had stopped bleeding, thankfully, but judging by the lack of blood on the floor they'd stopped long before he was brought in here. Great. If anyone was even following the blood trail they'd have to do a bit of searching once it ended - wherever that was.

As well as the dried blood, his left arm ached something fierce. Damn, he'd cut really deeply, and the Homunculi obviously weren't worried about it enough to stitch or bandage it. Well, he supposed, there was no reason for them to even if it was still bleeding. They hardly cared if he was in pain or not, based on how his last...session, here went. The cuts were wide open though, and just his luck they'd get infected in whatever unclean air was down here. Wonderful. That was exactly what he needed.

He sighed and licked his lips, noticing that there was also dried blood all around his mouth. Well, it was something to do at least, as weird as the act of licking up his own blood was.