Intended to scare, unsettle, or horrify; morbid, gruesome, or surreal themes.
The cheap ink has blurred and run, but Ed's memorized the gist: Riesenbul needs help; come sort things out.
"They raise the dead. They make creatures to fight in the war. This is Edward! This is your son. You have to see that!"
As it got later, Al could hear the night in the strange world deepen. Nights of terror, here, a country full of dead people.
That was when the nightmare had begun, when the world had become stone walls, sterilized laboratories, and lights so bright as to make little red capillaries snake across both boys' eyes.
"Pretty!" she says, and kneels to press her palms to the curls and knots chalked on the stones. "Papa! Did you drawed this? What's it for?"
The creature tilted its head, eyeing the two men to the side of her, and slid off its precarious perch.
From saint to sinner, from mother to whore… She was far more beautiful in death than she'd ever been in life.
He has felt this before, from homunculi and other dead things, and where Al does not have those tactile memories from Before, only visual ones (thankfully, thankfully), Ed certainly does.