neversphere (neversphere) wrote in fm_alchemist,
neversphere
neversphere
fm_alchemist

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another newbie

yeah... just recently got into fma a (kinda-sorta joined lj for this community) and i'm really really enjoying all the great fics here.

i watched that ep with nina and was deeply disturbed. ended up writing on it-- AU sorta, also disturbing, and spoilerish if you haven't seen episode 7. occured to me that it would also be a good start to a darkfic or something, but it stands now as a one-shot



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Blood pooled around the body, glistening in the darkness. Blood soaked into the papers scattered over the floor and dyed the great white paws of the chimera beet red. Blood covered the man’s limp body, but his eyes were empty.

Blood dripped off his still-clenched first, making a quiet, wet impact with the ground.

He stared at the scene dully, eyes flickering as if he didn’t recognize it. The chimera. The cages. The papers. The dead man--

Dead! Oh hell, he realized in shock, what have I done? I never meant for-- and then the golden gaze hardened. No, I meant it. He deserved it, the bastard. He deserved it, after what he did to Nina. Nina.

The fear came into him then, mixing with the dread and the apprehension. None of this was supposed to happen. None of this. How could a father do this to his child? And how could a boy-- no, a killer-- do this to a man? He couldn’t look at Tucker’s face, but there wasn’t much too look at anyway. It was unrecognizable, pulped and raw. One of the eyes had been pounded into jelly.

Oh, hell! If Alphonse were here, none of this would have happened. His brother would have been able to see reason within the madness. Nina, don’t look at me like that. Nina, your eyes are haunted. Your soul is haunted. Your soul is bound to a body it doesn’t belong to.

His head swam with dizziness and fatigue. His stomach roiled and he was suddenly violently sick. Everything had passed by in a haze of crimson and violence, but now that things were steady again to his eyes, his mind was at a precipice and threatening to tumble. What gave alchemists this power, this power to shape things in ways they weren’t meant to be shaped, this power to twist things until they broke? Alchemists weren’t gods. They were…

/We are…/

Insignificant human beings…

Something within him slipped. Nina’s soulless gaze bored into him, accusing: murderer! Murderer! His foot slipped in the blood and he fell hard on his knees, his spine jolting painfully upon the impact. Then he buried his face in his hands and cried so that his tears mingled with the blood and they were one.

And the chimera, alive when the girl was not, knew enough to lick its paws so that the blood might be gone.

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