Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me.
"You forget . . . I can use alchemy!"
She'd inwardly scoffed at him then, at his childish threat, glaring impassively down on him as his words had echoed out blankly through her mind.
No. She hadn't forgotten. Not in the least bit. She did not forget things. She'd been aware of his alchemy abilities from the very second she challenged him to fight.
The thing was that she'd underestimated him . . . underrated his skills on alchemy. She'd doubted his strengths, overlooked his talent.
Which was a mistake she shouldn't have made.
Because it was too late when she finally noticed the homunculus seal engraved within the floor underneath her . . . a seal she had not carved.
It had dawned on her, then, her eyes widening in surprise, what had happened . . . that she had sold the kid short.
She could recall the wave of stupor that had hit her . . . the desperation that Wrath's haughty smirk had made her feel.
He'd known he'd succeeded. And she'd known it, too.
However, she'd still tried to bolt, dash right out of the circle, the petrifaction passing and adrenaline surging.
And then . . . he'd swiftly tossed something inside the seal, the only thing she longed for, yet dreaded at the same time. Her pendant . . . her vulnerability. Her fatality.
Her body froze off of its own accord, convulsing unceasingly on the inside. It wouldn't respond to her will, her want to flee the circle. Her chest and throat constricted with anxiety. She knew panic was etched all across her face.
Still on his hands and knees, Wrath slammed his palms down on one edge of the mark and her breath hitched in her throat as it began to blaze a bright, blue.
The seal was activated.
What she experienced next was indescribable. There was an aura . . . a strange one surrounding her as if it were weighing her down. Internally, she suddenly felt queasy and feeble, her every breath drawing short and shuddering in the pit of her stomach.
Her head was throbbing excruciatingly, like daggers penetrating her skull. The pain was agonizing, causing her to fall to her knees, feverishly digging her nails into the ground.
It hurt. It hurt so badly that there were no words for it, the anguish drawing a tormented scream from her lips. She clenched her eyes shut, gritting her teeth. She needed the suffering to end.
But it didn't. It never did.
Her belly griped unbearably, jolting heavily, as she clamped her jaws closed, willing herself not to, commanding herself not to-
She did it anyway, her stomach heaving profoundly, bile rising to her throat and . . . spewed out her red stones, gasping and coughing.
The more she tried to hold them in, the more her abdomen writhed and the more intensely she rippled, her belly vomiting her stones. Her life source. Her everything. They clattered to the floor, evaporating into nothing and she frantically yearned to grab them back, gulp them down.
Her stomach continued to empty awfully, a body-racking procedure, leaving her temporarily deprived of air and wheezing wearily afterward, trembling on chronically on the floor.
"Isn't this what you wanted?" Wrath's spiteful voice ricocheted off of every wall the room, driving mockingly into her ears. "You wanted to be human just so you could die, didn't you?" He stepped toward her, gazing her down with cold, arrogant eyes.
His words struck her body sharply, shocking it senseless as she stared at the ground, feeling the coldness from the tiles seeping into her dress. She saw the man then, the young Ishvalan in a nudge of a memory. His face was horrified, gawking at something inhuman on the ground. Something grotesque. Something like her.
Her body vibrated brutally. "I wanted to die . . . ?"
The concept of the idea was shallow in her mind, but the more she thought about it, the more it seemed accurate. She wanted to be human, but she couldn't die. Death was human. And she was not. To feel human, she needed to experience death. The proper way.
"Is that it?" She looked to Wrath, as if he had the answers, and then back at the circle around her. She lurched again, another reminiscence taking her over. It was . . . Scar that time, only he was younger and . . . less serious . . . less vengeance-seeking. He looked blissful. Happy. Smiling.
She almost wished she could've seen him like that now.
"I . . . wanted to die." It was no longer a question.
Her head was bowed in defeat, dark locks falling across her amethyst eyes. She accepted it then that it was what she wanted. Death. She wanted not to be what she was then: a creation of alchemy. An abomination. Death was the only way she could escape it, only way she could get out of what she was. She could feel what she wasn't if she died. Human.
Death was human.
Death was what she had longed for all along.
She closed her eyes, an act of surrender. She let go of her breath, relaxed her muscles, ignoring the fact that she could sense Wrath coming at her slowly, his arm changing.
And then . . . she couldn't sense at all.
A/N: I hated Wrath for sealing Lust. And I hated Mustang for burning her to death in Brotherhood. But oh well. I enjoyed writing this. Hopefully, you enjoyed reading this. Please review!
