Either way I must say goodbye; you're dead to me
Characters: Alchemy/Edward Elric (ittybityprodigy)
Date/Time: Oct 5, nighttime
Location: FM/Al/Code's house
Rating: PG-13/mild R for language, violence, some gore
Summary: Guilt brings Alchemy a nightmare. 8D
It is dark; the absence of light is nothing spectacular to him. There's no reason to fear the darkness, so he doesn't. There is no sound, no echo of his boots on the floor and nothing rebounding sound waves from the walls. He doesn't stoop to pick up a projectile and test the limits. Somehow, he knows when to turn and where to go.
A door appears, though logically, it should be impossible. Light cannot illuminate something in a place of total darkness. Still, he's drawn to it. Before he can reach it, the door swings open. A gush of foul air meets him - rotting flesh, coppery blood, chemicals, and the pang of the aftermath of energy sparking. He steps inside. Slowly, his stomach begins to churn at the site. Everything's slightly blurred, but as he moves into it, everything clarifies, jumping into almost crystal-clear clarity.
In the center of a circle is a heaving mess. Its guts spill over the floor as it wheezes through a clogged throat. He steps back, gasping. A hand flies to cover his mouth. He can't hear what it's whispering. He knows it is though, but as sand through hands, it vanishes from his mind as quickly as it had come. He steps back from it further. It reaches out for him.
"N-no." He's whispering. He recoils but it seems to stretch, bloody fingers coming closer. He stumbles backward, but his back slams against the shelf. Books tumble to the ground. He can't see the titles. His mind is focused on the creature. It shouldn't be moving. It shouldn't. Slowly, its fingers drag across his chest, pressing at the space above his heart. A dark hand print appears. From where it touched, his skin begins burning. He tears it away with a shout and runs, but he can only slam into another wall, trapped with the beast following him. His fists beat on the wall.
He turns. The thing slowly picks up its inner workings and moves over, cradling the misshapen things with its hands. With a sickening splat, it drops the organs, reaching out for Alchemy again. His hands press against the wall just as he turns his face to prevent the fingers from scraping his face. The place where the metal and his shoulder connect begin to throb uncontrollably. Whether it is the beast's proximity or not is unclear to him. He gags at the smell, strong as ever in his nose.
He can't attack; he can't move. He's frozen. His muscles shiver with the pressure exerted onto the wall. His fingers dig into it. Alchemy can hear his own heartbeat, pounding furiously, as he stands.
His eyes close. Instead of the creature brushing his cheek, it drops the limb and presses a hand onto the automail joint. Terror grips him, but he can't force himself to kick back. Its fingers descend through a metal plate into the flesh under it. The incredible strength bends the metal and tears his flesh as it rips out the whole socket.
Pain rips through his shoulder and he shudders to the ground with a cry. Blood drips from the stump. His whole body throbs. He bites his lip to keep from crying out. He's had worse than this. His mind repeats itself, carefully pulling his focus from the pain. From his subservient position, he can manage a look up through his bangs.
The creature stands above him. Light seems to block out the face, but he can see that its ribs are poking out in all the wrong ways; he knew instinctively that the body was poorly put together. Blood drips onto his head and down his cheek.
I can't die. I can't die.
His body throbs. It's the best he can do to stay aware, pain creating a false sense of paralysis. Somehow, too, the pain creates a heightened awareness. Everything seems sharper, clearer. He coughs. The creature makes more indistinct noises. He feels a hand on his head. A shiver runs through him. His eyes close. Another drop of blood runs down his cheek.
I can't. Fullmetal- I promised Fullmetal. I can't die.
They reopen, staring at the ground. There is no pressure, only the continued aching of his joints. He can feel the hand tightening on his skull. It releases and whips down, grabbing his throat. Superhuman strength lifts him into the air. He looks into two dark sockets. The light is behind the creature's head. The silhouette doesn't allow him to see the face of the creature.
His body is slammed against the wall. The weight of his own body against the creature's hand begins to choke him. Pain courses through his veins. The creature reaches down and rips off the automail leg with a sickening crunch. He can't help it; he lets out a scream.
[Important Note: This is not a true memory, but rather Alchemy's mind producing a nightmare based on something he received through a memory crystal and his own ingrained guilt over FM's predicament.]
Date/Time: Oct 5, nighttime
Location: FM/Al/Code's house
Rating: PG-13/mild R for language, violence, some gore
Summary: Guilt brings Alchemy a nightmare. 8D
It is dark; the absence of light is nothing spectacular to him. There's no reason to fear the darkness, so he doesn't. There is no sound, no echo of his boots on the floor and nothing rebounding sound waves from the walls. He doesn't stoop to pick up a projectile and test the limits. Somehow, he knows when to turn and where to go.
A door appears, though logically, it should be impossible. Light cannot illuminate something in a place of total darkness. Still, he's drawn to it. Before he can reach it, the door swings open. A gush of foul air meets him - rotting flesh, coppery blood, chemicals, and the pang of the aftermath of energy sparking. He steps inside. Slowly, his stomach begins to churn at the site. Everything's slightly blurred, but as he moves into it, everything clarifies, jumping into almost crystal-clear clarity.
In the center of a circle is a heaving mess. Its guts spill over the floor as it wheezes through a clogged throat. He steps back, gasping. A hand flies to cover his mouth. He can't hear what it's whispering. He knows it is though, but as sand through hands, it vanishes from his mind as quickly as it had come. He steps back from it further. It reaches out for him.
"N-no." He's whispering. He recoils but it seems to stretch, bloody fingers coming closer. He stumbles backward, but his back slams against the shelf. Books tumble to the ground. He can't see the titles. His mind is focused on the creature. It shouldn't be moving. It shouldn't. Slowly, its fingers drag across his chest, pressing at the space above his heart. A dark hand print appears. From where it touched, his skin begins burning. He tears it away with a shout and runs, but he can only slam into another wall, trapped with the beast following him. His fists beat on the wall.
He turns. The thing slowly picks up its inner workings and moves over, cradling the misshapen things with its hands. With a sickening splat, it drops the organs, reaching out for Alchemy again. His hands press against the wall just as he turns his face to prevent the fingers from scraping his face. The place where the metal and his shoulder connect begin to throb uncontrollably. Whether it is the beast's proximity or not is unclear to him. He gags at the smell, strong as ever in his nose.
He can't attack; he can't move. He's frozen. His muscles shiver with the pressure exerted onto the wall. His fingers dig into it. Alchemy can hear his own heartbeat, pounding furiously, as he stands.
His eyes close. Instead of the creature brushing his cheek, it drops the limb and presses a hand onto the automail joint. Terror grips him, but he can't force himself to kick back. Its fingers descend through a metal plate into the flesh under it. The incredible strength bends the metal and tears his flesh as it rips out the whole socket.
Pain rips through his shoulder and he shudders to the ground with a cry. Blood drips from the stump. His whole body throbs. He bites his lip to keep from crying out. He's had worse than this. His mind repeats itself, carefully pulling his focus from the pain. From his subservient position, he can manage a look up through his bangs.
The creature stands above him. Light seems to block out the face, but he can see that its ribs are poking out in all the wrong ways; he knew instinctively that the body was poorly put together. Blood drips onto his head and down his cheek.
I can't die. I can't die.
His body throbs. It's the best he can do to stay aware, pain creating a false sense of paralysis. Somehow, too, the pain creates a heightened awareness. Everything seems sharper, clearer. He coughs. The creature makes more indistinct noises. He feels a hand on his head. A shiver runs through him. His eyes close. Another drop of blood runs down his cheek.
I can't. Fullmetal- I promised Fullmetal. I can't die.
They reopen, staring at the ground. There is no pressure, only the continued aching of his joints. He can feel the hand tightening on his skull. It releases and whips down, grabbing his throat. Superhuman strength lifts him into the air. He looks into two dark sockets. The light is behind the creature's head. The silhouette doesn't allow him to see the face of the creature.
His body is slammed against the wall. The weight of his own body against the creature's hand begins to choke him. Pain courses through his veins. The creature reaches down and rips off the automail leg with a sickening crunch. He can't help it; he lets out a scream.
[Important Note: This is not a true memory, but rather Alchemy's mind producing a nightmare based on something he received through a memory crystal and his own ingrained guilt over FM's predicament.]