Sniper by RW Grimm
There was no air, only choking clouds of dust. There was no water, only mud holes that had once been oases. Decaying bodies baked under the unforgiving sun; eyes popped, skin cracked, and bones turned to dust.
So many thought of Hell as a place of rushing magma, and billowing walls of fire. Everything was bathed in red; even the tiny men running around with pitchforks were red. But those many were wrong, Hell was nothing like that; Hell was a desert called Ishbal.
The demons were not the desert's occupants though, it was the invaders, dressed in blue, who wore the horns. But not all the demons were willing, some of the demons were just trying to get by, but others were nearing the edge of reason.
She, Riza Hawkeye, was one of those people.
It would be easy to do it, and on some level she'd enjoy it. Pulling the trigger on him was what he deserved for all the lives he'd taken.
She could put a bullet through her own skull, she was just as much of a military monster as him, maybe more. She lurked in the shadows, never having to look into the terrified eyes of those defenseless people she killed. How cowardly.
She didn't know why her gun was aimed on this man. Perhaps it was random chance, he was just standing there, talking. But she knew better, she didn't do anything randomly. She did not even know him personally, though she knew she was being transferred to his regiment soon.
The better question was why she had a gun trained on her fellow soldier. She spat. Fellow soldier sounded too chummy, and chummy was too lighthearted a word for the slaughterhouse around her.
Once a desert it was now a beach of blood. Corpses washed in on a daily basis from a rolling red tide.
She hated the military. She would like nothing more than to get out of it, whether it was honorable or not. Shooting an ally, she'd usually be booted out, but with the lack of active personnel she'd be forced to stay until the end, considering she'd survive that long, then she would be punished.
But why did she have her gun trained on this man now? She wasn't supposed to shoot him yet, not until he 'got out of hand' as her superior had put it. It was her job to take out this man, who she knew nothing of but his name, when this happened.
Of course, within the next few weeks, the man who'd issued the order would no longer be her commanding officer, and she would no longer be obligated to fill the order.
But even still, she would keep her eye on this man, this Roy Mustang. She would stay close to him, never letting him out of her sight. In the years to come, this would not change, but her loyalties will have switched severely.
END