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Glint. Flick. Click. Glint. Flick. Click. Glint. Flick. Click.
The noise was coming from somewhere deep within Roy’s apartment. Ignition glove stretched tautly over his knuckles, Mustang padded as quietly as he could down the darkened hallway.
Rectangular glasses glinted in the moonlight streaming from the window as the figure turned. The figure snapped the blade shut with a final click and it disappeared beneath his sleeve.
“Hey Roy,” The voice was achingly familiar, but the tone was so very wrong.
“Hughes,” Mustang heard some of the pain bleed into his own voice, yet kept his hand out in front, fingers ready to snap at any moment.
Hughes grinned, sharp teeth revealed in a jack-o-lantern smile. “Long time.”
“What kind of trick is this?” The words tore from Mustang’s throat in a growl.
“No trick. Come on, Roy my man, is this any way to treat an old friend?”
A chill ran up Mustang’s spine, sharp as one of Hughes’ trademark knives; dark edges trailing between his shirt and skin, barely scraping but still there—
There was a gasp, a snap and an explosion and the shadows retreated behind Hughes.
“Just what the hell are you?” Roy demanded. Cold sweat dripped down the side of his face and soaked into his jacket.
Hughes smiled some more, tilted his head unnaturally to the side. “A very proud friend, Roy.”
Mustang heard the sound of knives ripping fabric before he saw it, and before he was thrown against the wall. Hughes, or what was pretending to be Hughes, had an arm barred across Roy’s neck. Mustang could have easily turned the tables, had it not been for the razor sharp shadowy knives hovering just slightly above his vital areas. His glove was shredded to pieces, ragged edges of the fabric dyed red with his blood.
“Oh look, how careless of me.” Pride commented. “Though, the color does suit you, isn’t that right, Flame Alchemist?”
With his other hand, Pride reached into his coat pocket and procured a glass vial. Roy’s instincts screamed at him to move, but the dark edges hovering just above his skin held him prisoner. Hughes sank his sharp, sharp teeth into the cork and yanked the vial open. He tipped it to the side and watched as the Philosopher’s stone seemed to hang in the air for an eternity before entering Roy’s wound with a loud ‘plip’!
“I wonder, what will you turn out to be?” Hughes asked as he took a step back, letting the shadows hold the thrashing alchemist in place. “That is, heh heh, if you survive.”