I just had this idea and I HAD to write it down :D
Rating: T
Genre: Angst, supernatural
Disclaimer: I don't own FMA
Summary: Out of despair, humans try forbidden alchemy to bring their loved ones back to life. But not everyone is prepared to pay the price...
Note: Enjoyed best while listening to the homunculus' theme song
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Homunculus.
His eyelids lifted heavily. The world he would have expected to be sunny came out dim, blurry. It took a while for his sight to settle, revealing a monotone, almost monochromatic room, where the papers were scattered and messed everywhere, and smoke rose, ghastly, from the edges of some lines drawn out with chalk.
He tried to speak, but a burning, scorching sensation shot from his throat. The next thing he knew was that he was coughing out a dark, thick blood.
Trying to stand up proved futile. It was not that his legs wouldn't work, but he didn't have enough strength to move them. It was becoming hard for him to breathe. He coughed out some more blood, that splattered on the cold stone floor and became the only sound in the room. It was then he looked down at his hands. It... it took a while for him to focus. When he did, his whole being became paralyzed, and a bitter feeling of nausea overcame him. Again, blood gushed densely from his mouth. Even so, he felt it blazing dry. A bony, squalid, languid hand had replaced his once normal one.
He gritted his teeth, and a hot liquid sprouted from his eyes and fell to the ground. He was crying.
'What... what is going on with me...?'
Words still didn't come out from his raspy lips, but his formerly sore ears perceived a slight, almost fading noise- the sound of someone breathing. He tried to move towards the source of it, but he froze in his place and his eyes widened when his joints seemed to snap, and an unnatural throbbing shot through his body.
The first sound that came out of his crimson-tainted mouth, was a guttural cry of pain.
Tears burned their way down to the stone floor. Tears of anguish and impotence. 'Didn't I die?' he thought desperately. 'Didn't I?'
Knowing that the only limbs he could currently move were his arms he painstakingly crawled his way towards the breathing sound, rubbing his lower body and stomach against the ground, ripping his flesh each time the stone was irregular.
But by the time he was already used to that pain.
He only stopped to vomit some more blood, that leaked through the crevices of the floor. The strength seemed to be abandoning him, bit by bit, even if he was making an inhuman effort to keep on. His sight, once again, went blurry, but now the object of his dedication appeared to be... nearer. He extended his arm towards the source of the breathing. A person, a man, a... His weary eyes shot open.
'...F...Fa-ther...' He stuttered, in a slurry voice that didn't even reminiscence his own. Now, tears overflowed his eyes.
He saw a lot of splattered blood. Was it because he was crying? Who did it belong to...?
No. The man lying comfortingly near him barely lifted his eyelids, as if he'd reacted to that course, sour noise his handsome voice had become.
He waited anxiously, for a while enduring the excruciating pain and the flow of crimson liquid emanating from where the icy floor had lascerated his skin. Father's golden pupils became smaller just as his eyes dilated.
An anguished scream tore up the silence. In a pathetic display of desperation, the father clutched his missing right arm, the stump bleeding profusely, and crawled backwards. 'Go away...' He commanded, half authoritarian, half startled, 'You're not my son...!'
For a moment he refused to believe his ears. 'F...Father...' He said again, pleading, overcoming the pain and crawling towards him, discovering his new body's movements were more mechanic. 'H...help me...'
His plead was unheard, and his barely recognisable eyes followed the staggering, retreating silhouette of the one who'd created him.
His extended hand tried to reach the person who had already reached the stop of the stairs and was, a dark figure clashing aggresively against a light that appeared blinding, closing the door to that basement, living him in a total, maddening darkness.
From the doors outwards, the unnatural cry of anguish went unnoticed.
But inwards, it echoed.
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T-T... did -I- really write that?... it's so... sad...