Disclaimer : All characters within belong to the creators of Fullmetal Alchemist and to Neil Gaiman.
Where Am I Going?
The interior of the factory greets her, dull and drab as it had been moments ago, as she opens her eyes. Lust pauses and looks around, feeling that there's something she's missing.
"You know, it's been a long time since I met someone who actually wanted to meet me," someone says from behind her. Lust whips around, startled. On top of a nearby production line, a young girl sits where there had been nobody before. "And when I say a long time, I mean a long time."
She's beautiful; that's the first thing Lust notices. Incredibly pale, although not in an unhealthy way, and dressed entirely in black - a simple black vest with a shirt underneath, dark pants and a matching pair of black boots. The white of her skin and the black of her clothes contrast in a way that draws the eye instead of repelling it. A strange sort of cross, cast in silver, hangs from the chain around her neck.
When she is sure that Lust has seen her, the girl hops down and walks over to her. "Hello, Lust. Nice to meet you again," she says, smiling in a way that seems terribly familiar. Lust blinks, taken aback by the situation.
"Who are you?" she asks, slowly. "How do you know my name?"
"We've talked before. Way before," the girl explains, spreading her hands wide. "But you probably don't remember what I told you." She laughs and shakes her head. "Nobody does."
"Who are you?" Lust repeats. The girl dressed in black simply gazes at her sympathetically, saying nothing - and suddenly Lust knows exactly who she is. "So... this is death?" A nod. Lust looks down at the dark stain on the alchemic array carved into the ground, her expression unreadable.
At length, she says, "Strange."
The pale girl frowns quizzically, one eyebrow arching up. "Hmm?"
"I had expected death to be more..." Lust pauses, searching for the proper term. "Not here," she finishes awkwardly, gesturing around at the now deserted factory, which is a far cry from any afterworld she'd ever imagined.
"Well, it's not here, actually," says the girl. "But this is where you died. I'm here to guide you to wherever you're headed."
A few minutes pass in silence, until the girl decides to break it. "You remind me a lot of a person I met a while ago," she says, fondly. "She was from Ishvar, and she was just as confused by death as you are."
Lust starts, looking up. "The real me?"
The girl shakes her head, a faint tone of reproach entering her tone. "Not the real you. Nobody is the real you but you, if you know what I mean. She was a lot like you, sure, but different."
Lust smirks, although the upward curve of her lips has little to do with mirth. "Because I killed people without any trace of remorse or any other emotion? I was nothing more than a puppet moving according to the whims of my master-" She stops as the girl holds up a hand, cutting her off.
"I don't judge people, Lust. I've met lots of people who were better than you, sure. But I've also met loads more who were miles nastier than you can imagine," the girl says, leaning back against a wall. She looks up at the ceiling, her eyes following the spiderweb pattern of cracks in the cement. "I try to be neutral when I'm on the job. All I meant is that you are different. No more and no less."
Lust pauses, trying to decide what to say.
"Where are you taking me?"
The girl in black shrugs. "That's for you to decide. You know where you want to go."
Lust is surprised to find out that she does know exactly where she wants to go.
The girl pulls a small, silver pocketwatch from her pocket and examines it. "It's time we get going. Edward and his teacher will be here soon, and it wouldn't do to eavesdrop on them, would it?"
"Will I be able to meet her?" Lust blurts suddenly, uncertainty tingeing her voice. The girl in black only smiles and steps forward, towards Lust.
"Only one way to find out," she says wryly, holding her hand out, palm facing upwards. Lust is struck again by her eyes, which somehow manage to be clear and serene despite the countless number of deaths they must have seen.
"Take my hand."
After hesitating, for an eternity, Lust does so.
Author's Notes:
Because Lust is emo, and she needed someone to listen to her. Writer's block just rammed me and squashed me flat... hopefully I can recover now.
Next is Wrath and a certain nightmare. Wrath has such pretty eyes.