clang clash scrape
and the smell of dry ice and slightly thawing meat and blood
My blood, or the meat or the Nina-creature's?
and he said that I should know what it's like to kill, I should understand him--but God, I...
I don't ever want to. If understanding him is what it takes for me to be an alchemist, I can't. My eyes are fixated on his. He's laughing.
Have I been screaming?
cold sweat makes way for primal instinct and suddenly
I know I'm going to die. Mom, how do you stare death in face and accept it?
I'm screaming--I can't think
I'M GOING TO DIE
HE'S GOING TO KILL ME
palm meets metal fist and blade appears without thinking and if i don't kill him firsthe'llkillmeKILL HIM
arm swings back as body is jerked back and i swing backwards
DON'T KILL ME PLEASE DON'T DON'T I
i don't want to die and the blade bounces off of a hard metal plate...Al...?
blood on the wall, blood on the floor and all over my slashed arm.
We are not gods. We cannot save. We're human. We're children.
I press my forehead against Al's breastplate, my tears running down the cool metal. I sob.
I don't want to die.