The Exorcist

A Fullmetal Alchemist fanfic by Haladflire65

Summary: Roy Mustang's career takes a strange turn when he's forced to become a part-time exorcist.

Rating: Teen, for violence, darkness and coarse language.

Genre: Drama, Action, Supernatural, Horror

Notes: Hey, everyone. I'm back with another full-length FMA fanfic. I had some really weird ideas/inspiration for a new story. Again, it'll be Roy-centric, so I wanted to try something that hasn't been done before. So this one will feature Roy as an exorcist. I won't reveal any more since that would be spoiling things, hence the short and vague summary. If this sounds interesting at all to you, please read on and review! Also, the first chapter ended up longer than usual because I had so much time to work on it… stuck in someone's house with no Internet for six days… long story. I'll be working on Exorcist in parallel with my other fic, The Flame of Anarchy. Just so you know.

Enjoy.

Chapter One

There were some voices in the room, not so far away from him. He opened his right eye a crack. Roy realized that there were heads hovering over his face – very blurry heads at that. He blinked, or tried to, as he was struck with a blinding pain in his left eye. A gasp escaped his lips as he pulled himself upright, feeling restraining hands on his shoulders. He was in a hospital room.

"Colonel, you mustn't move… Please, sir, keep still!" Was that Fuery or Breda speaking? He had no idea; his vision was so hazy and his head was pounding like a sledgehammer. Roy attempted to push those hands away and say something. His voice came out in a harsh whisper.

"F-uck, let go of me." To his irritation there were only relieved laughter and sighs in the room.

"He's awake. The Colonel's awake!" Damn, how could Roy not be able to tell whether that was Riza or Fuery? He just couldn't think clearly. At least their faces were coming into focus now. Roy squinted, to try and see better, but that only triggered another stab of agony in his left eye. He bit his lip to bite back a cry of pain. He put his hand to the spot, and found scratchy bandages swathing his head and covering his eye.

"What the hell…?"

It was definitely Riza. Roy recognized her gentle hand on his shaking shoulder. She said quietly, "Colonel, the doctors say… they say that your eye's badly damaged – that you won't be able to see out of it again – "

Roy interrupted her with a choked gasp. "Is…" He looked at her with his good eye, now watering. "…is it supposed to hurt like this?"

He saw Riza turn to the others – all his subordinates were crammed into this hospital ward. He only caught snatches of what they were saying. "They didn't mention anything about pain…"

"I thought he wasn't supposed to feel anything anymore in there – "

Now Roy wanted to know what was wrong with him, having noticed a mirror on the wall nearby. He forced himself to swing his legs over the side of the bed, pulling the bandages loose at the same time. The throbbing still hadn't gone away. Taking unsteady steps, his bare feet making no sound on the floor, he made his way to the mirror. His subordinates hadn't seen him yet – he peered into the smooth glass surface, almost afraid of what he might find there.

His dark hair was unkempt, contrasting sharply with his pale and drawn face. The right eye was perfectly normal – black and narrow as always. Roy had expected to see a bloodied socket or something of the sort on the left side. But no, there was his eye, looking almost ordinary. Confusion made his head spin again. They said it was damaged… That I was going to be blind in it… With a closer look, Roy saw with increasing horror that the iris of the eye was not the usual black, but an eerie, unnatural gold. He couldn't help but open his mouth and shout.

"What the hell!?"

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It all started on a nice day in late August. The warm afternoon sunshine came shining through the windows and into the office. The office had a relaxed, sluggish air – even Hawkeye had given up on making the Colonel do any more work today. She had to admit he looked exhausted. He'd been up all night the day before, signing papers and doing research. She let herself lean against the wall behind him and relaxed.

"Colonel!" It was nearly three o'clock when Cain Fuery came running into the office, waving several pieces of paper. "Colonel Mustang, we have more reports…"

"What's the rush, Fuery?" Havoc grinned, taking a chunk of bread from Breda. Falman was absorbed in a thick book on history or something of the sort. "We still have three hours 'till work's over."

Roy lifted his head from his clasped hands, annoyance flickering through his face. "What is it?" He had obviously been half-asleep until now. Riza glared at him, making him sigh and straighten up in his chair. He glanced at the papers Fuery put down on his desk - his brow knitted into a crease in his forehead when he saw one of the pages.

"Fuery. What's this?" He asked, pointing at a page, frowning.

Fuery went red. "I don't know, sir – I didn't have the time to read any of it – "

Riza bent over Roy's shoulder to see. There was a photo of a young blonde man on the page, rather good-looking, with blue eyes and an angular face. "The Chemical Alchemist?" She raised her eyebrows. "Robert Livingston, age twenty-one, unmarried, State Alchemist… Experiments with various chemical reactions and alchemy…"

"Murder?" Havoc exclaimed, having come to Roy's desk also. "Why? He's a State Alchemist – "

"It says that he's not very mentally stable." Falman said, having put his book down and read over the report. "It's pretty clear, don't you think?"

"And I'm supposed to catch him." Roy pushed his black hair back from his eyes. "Damn it. I had a date today… This looks like it's going to take a while," he remarked, rapidly scanning the page. "He knows how to fight, and I'm not allowed to disintegrate him…"

"Will you be going right now?" Riza inquired. "We don't have much time, sir."

Roy sighed and rubbed his temples. "Yeah, I know… I do want to get this over with." He stood and ran a hand through his hair, glancing around at his subordinates. "We'll be leaving in ten minutes. Get armed. I'm expecting all of you to come with me. Now hurry up."

"Yessir!"

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The mansion was dark and run-down, as if no one had lived in it for at least ten years. But Roy knew that Robert Livingston was there. He'd known plenty about the Chemical Alchemist far before the bastard had committed murder. What a wasted young man… Roy shook his head, almost pityingly. Inside his head, he summarized Livingston's rather messy history.

Age twenty-one. He was born near the borders of Ishbal under poor parents. When he was only eleven years old the Ishbal War broke out; both his parents were killed. He was found in the rubble by none other than Maes Hughes, who kindly rescued and brought him back to headquarters. As Robert was not an Ishbalan he was to be taken to Central City and train as a soldier.

It was before he left the battlefields he happened to see Roy Mustang blast an Ishbalan camp into smithereens. Robert was not shocked but deeply intrigued. As a very intelligent boy, he began to take an interest in what made Mustang's incredible destructive powers possible – alchemy. When he got to military school he began to study the science on his own, using the large number of books available at Central. Robert taught himself elementary alchemy; when he became seventeen and a half he was recognized by superiors to be a mediocre soldier but an excellent alchemist. Two years later Robert Livingston was made into a State Alchemist, dubbed the Chemical Alchemist for his specialty – alchemy using chemistry.

He used the money he received to buy himself a large mansion which also doubled as his laboratory. That was last year. No one had heard from him after that.

Roy wondered what sort of person Livingston had become. He felt, with a twinge of guilt, that it was his doing, the creation of this madman. If Robert hadn't seen him as a boy, he might have never gotten the idea of becoming an alchemist into his head… Curse the damned war – killing thousands, scarring others for life, creating monsters…

"Colonel." Fuery's whisper made Mustang start. They were already standing on the front steps of the ivy-covered mansion. "Do we break right in?"

"Yeah, why not. I'll blow the doors off – "

Riza interrupted, "They look unlocked."

"Oh." Roy gave the rotten-looking wood a push; they creaked open on their rusty hinges. He and his subordinates peered inside. It was dark, musty and completely silent, save for the occasional scurrying noise of rats and mice.

"Should we split up, Colonel?" Breda asked softly from behind. "This place looks pretty big."

He nodded. "There're six of us, so…" Roy thought for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the dark. "Fuery, you go with Havoc…" Havoc was sometimes too slow for his own good. He needed someone sharp-minded like the communications expert with him. "Falman and Breda, you two are together." Falman had knowledge; Breda was the more capable fighter if anything was to arise. He looked to his side. "Hawkeye. You're with me." The sniper would back up Roy's offense.

"Aye aye, sir!" The squad snapped to attention.

"Fuery, you and Havoc can start from the top. Falman, you and Breda are on this floor. The Lieutenant and I'll go down to the basement." Roy wanted to go downstairs. Laboratories were usually underground, where it was always cold, quiet and dark. He wanted to be the one to deal with Livingston, who could have some nasty alchemic tricks up his sleeve. He couldn't afford to get any of his men injured, or worse, killed. "Good luck, and don't die. That's an order."

"Yes, sir!" They parted. Roy led Riza to the stairs that led to the basement. It was so dark that Roy resorted to having a small flame at his fingers to act as a candle. There were cobwebs everywhere; they kept on getting caught in his uniform and hair. This was more of a natural tunnel than the hallway of a house. Roy could see the wooden foundations of the mansion sticking through some of the stone walls. The deeper they went, the more he felt like he didn't have enough air. It seemed to be the same with Riza. Their breathing became faster and louder.

The silence was just as suffocating. Roy needed to say something. "Have your gun loaded and ready, Lieutenant." He ordered quietly. He pulled on his left glove as well. He didn't use it often and hoped he wouldn't have to.

"You don't need to tell me that, Colonel," Riza said dryly. A moment later, she touched his shoulder. "Sir, do you hear that?"

"What is it?" All of Roy's senses were sharp and alert.

"I don't know… It's like…" Riza hesitated. "…bubbling?"

It was true. As if someone was boiling water nearby… Roy frowned. "Be careful."

They rounded a corner. Roy became aware that there was a light other than the orange glow coming from his glove. He let the flame go out; there was indeed something at the other end of the tunnel.

Riza kept close behind him. "Colonel. I think I see someone – "

Roy did as well. It was the faint silhouette of someone, outlined by a dim light. He shouted out a warning and pushed Riza back; there was a sudden flash of light, then a boom, and the tunnel shook with the impact. Roy felt bits of dust and rubble raining onto his head; soon afterwards there was the firing of a gun, obviously Riza's.

"You came, Colonel Mustang! I wanted to meet you – I've heard so much about the Flame Alchemist! I'm thrilled!" The gleeful voice of a man echoed through the tunnel. "How do you like my house?"

Roy assumed that this was Robert Livingston. He saw the man pick something up from the floor at his feet, something that looked like a flask of some sort – then, there was a brief crackling and sparks that signalled a transmutation. Livingston hurled the flask towards Roy and Riza –

"Colonel!" Riza cried; it was then Roy realized that this was a bomb. He lunged towards his subordinate, throwing his arms around her, just as the flask landed, much too close to them –

The explosion was deafening, almost comparable to the ones Roy's alchemy caused. Chunks of rock and wood went flying into Roy's back, which he was using to shield Riza and himself from the bomb. When the dust finally settled, Roy found himself on the floor, Riza under him.

"Thanks, sir," Riza gasped, too shaken to be embarrassed by their awkward position.

"That comes later, Lieutenant – " Roy replied, swinging his arm around to snap his fingers at the same time. It was then he stopped himself. This was a tunnel. If he tried to create fire here, it would eat up oxygen faster than he could create it… They would suffocate and die. "Shit," he muttered, mind racing.

"What's wrong, Colonel? Can't use your alchemy?" Livingston's voice called. "I always thought your methods were too inflexible – you can't use it in enclosed spaces… or in the rain…" He was interrupted by another shot from Riza. She'd fired her gun into the ceiling.

"Move any closer and I'll shoot, Livingston." She said loudly. She hissed to Roy, "Stay back, Colonel, there's not much more you can do."

He could feel himself go red, even in this rather dangerous situation. Only if they could at least get into the lab… a larger space… Then he could use pinpoint flames… What was he going to do?

"Aren't these babies beautiful?" Livingston exclaimed, gesturing to his pile of flask-bombs, completely ignoring Riza. "They're actually pretty simple. They're filled with a solution of water and some minerals – if I transmutate them into substances that react strongly against each other, then throw it, breaking the glass and exposing the inside to air – voila! I have an explosion!" Roy could tell that he was probably smiling proudly, although he was still too far away to see clearly. "Your alchemy actually gave me a lot of ideas, Colonel – "

"Shut up, Livingston." Roy barked, his temper flaring with impatience. "If you come quietly you won't have to get a bullet put in you. Now put the flask and get over here. Put your hands above your head."

"But this one," Livingston continued as if he'd heard nothing, "is different. It contains a solution I created for a special purpose. I intend to give some to you, Colonel Mustang." He lifted up a large test tube, as if to show Roy what was inside better. The idiot. Roy could barely see in the dimness. "I tried experimenting on myself with the stuff, but I gave myself an overdose…" Maybe that was what made his head go strange, thought Roy.

"This is your last chance. Get over here or I'll shoot." Riza shouted, cocking her pistol. "I mean it."

Livingston just said, "Colonel, you should be careful. There's someone behind you that looks like he wants to strangle you."

Roy frowned. He? Behind? Roy figured that Livingston had completely lost it. There was no one here other than him and Riza… Even so, Roy risked a glance back. Of course, there was nothing there, just another cobweb. And of course, it had been a bad mistake to do that.

He heard Riza's gun fire. Roy's head snapped back around, only to see the test tube sailing towards him. It hit the hard wall above his head, and broke into pieces.

The liquid inside was a dark orange. It went splattering across the tunnel. A second later, Roy found that it had gotten on his face. Also, in his left eye. He heard Riza calling his name, asking if he was all right, and he was about to reply when a sudden, unbearable agony took over the entire left side of his face. It was as if an acid were eating through his eyeball and nerves; probably that was what was happening. He gasped and fell to his knees, his hand over the spot; he wanted to claw at his eye until it was no longer there. Then it couldn't hurt like this, not like this…

"The pain's only bad in the beginning, so just take it. You'll have a rewarding experience. You'll see things that you never thought even existed." It was the bastard Livingston again. He sounded so far away. Roy, now on the floor, his hands over his face, gave a muffled moan, his entire body clenched into a tight ball. Riza had come to his side, panic now in her voice, begging him to hold on. He was fading.

Livingston, whom Riza had managed to shoot in the leg, was sitting calmly at the other end of the tunnel, even as blood was pooling up around him. On his face was a proud smile. His eyes, with which he was peering intently at Riza, bent over Roy's still form, were both a deep orange in colour.

Riza screamed for her comrades.

TBC

Reviews anyone? :)