Prompt 176- Arrogance- "Disappointed"
Title: Disappointed
Author: ssadropout
Series: A/U (Takes place after any series.)
Word Count: 385
Rating: Teen
Characters: Roy Mustang
Summary: He’d expected something much more appealing than what he ended up with.
Warnings: Language. Mention of bodily functions and fluids.
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Common wisdom advises that a person can’t smell his own stink.
He knew, now, that this was untrue. He could barely keep from gagging on the stench emanating from his body. The piss and shit and blood that he had been unable to hold inside himself were bad enough, but the rot was worse. His body was decaying while he was still using it. If you could call lying around like a pile of garbage using a body.
The flies loved the perfume of his slow death. It drew them to him like a beacon. He could hear the hum of their excitement. Mmmm. Tasty human flesh for dinner. Come and get it! They especially seemed to like lapping from the cut over his eye and the actual surface of his eye. Too bad they were just consuming him and not laying eggs in his wounds. Maggots could save limbs. Not that he expected to be found before he died. Rescue did not seem possible.
The pain continued to burn and slice through him. He thought that he would have lost consciousness by now and be unaware, but oblivion eluded him. He had known that he would, someday, become absorbed back into the earth. That was part of a very early alchemy lesson. But he hadn’t expected to feel it happening.
This wasn’t at all what he had expected. He had thought that he would have a beautiful death. An elegant death. A hero’s death. He’d been called a hero by the press. He’d never bought into that, but he had devoted himself to what he thought were good causes. He’d expected to die on the Promised Day, a warrior sacrificing himself for Amestris. He’d imagined going before a firing squad for his war crimes, a martyr for democracy. He’d never expected to die an old man. Never expected that kind of life or death, though he had occasionally fantasized about a domestic life with Hawkeye and kids. He’d know too well how unrealistic that was.
He really hoped that she would not follow him where he was going soon.
Live fast. Die young. Leave a good-looking corpse.
He’d expected death to be quick and clean. What an asshole he’d been.
At least, he’ll have a beautiful funeral- if they ever find his body.
Author: ssadropout
Series: A/U (Takes place after any series.)
Word Count: 385
Rating: Teen
Characters: Roy Mustang
Summary: He’d expected something much more appealing than what he ended up with.
Warnings: Language. Mention of bodily functions and fluids.
********
Common wisdom advises that a person can’t smell his own stink.
He knew, now, that this was untrue. He could barely keep from gagging on the stench emanating from his body. The piss and shit and blood that he had been unable to hold inside himself were bad enough, but the rot was worse. His body was decaying while he was still using it. If you could call lying around like a pile of garbage using a body.
The flies loved the perfume of his slow death. It drew them to him like a beacon. He could hear the hum of their excitement. Mmmm. Tasty human flesh for dinner. Come and get it! They especially seemed to like lapping from the cut over his eye and the actual surface of his eye. Too bad they were just consuming him and not laying eggs in his wounds. Maggots could save limbs. Not that he expected to be found before he died. Rescue did not seem possible.
The pain continued to burn and slice through him. He thought that he would have lost consciousness by now and be unaware, but oblivion eluded him. He had known that he would, someday, become absorbed back into the earth. That was part of a very early alchemy lesson. But he hadn’t expected to feel it happening.
This wasn’t at all what he had expected. He had thought that he would have a beautiful death. An elegant death. A hero’s death. He’d been called a hero by the press. He’d never bought into that, but he had devoted himself to what he thought were good causes. He’d expected to die on the Promised Day, a warrior sacrificing himself for Amestris. He’d imagined going before a firing squad for his war crimes, a martyr for democracy. He’d never expected to die an old man. Never expected that kind of life or death, though he had occasionally fantasized about a domestic life with Hawkeye and kids. He’d know too well how unrealistic that was.
He really hoped that she would not follow him where he was going soon.
Live fast. Die young. Leave a good-looking corpse.
He’d expected death to be quick and clean. What an asshole he’d been.
At least, he’ll have a beautiful funeral- if they ever find his body.