Of course I would never claim any of the characters of Full Metal Alchemist as my own, but I have taken the liberty to portray how I believe they would think and feel at certain points in the anime. Please enjoy.

Chapter I: Blood-lust

"Kill! Smile! Cut it out for me this time!
Smile, haven't seen him smile in a little while…"

("Sound Effects & Overdramatics"—The Used)

Maybe you've heard of me before, and maybe you haven't. Well, I guess if you have heard of me, you'd know me by one of my two names. Before—before all this happened—people on the street used to call me "Barry The Chopper," though no one could associate my face with that name. But let's think about this now, shall we? If people knew I was a serial killer that derived pleasure from chopping beautiful women into pieces, I don't think they'd be coming over to my house asking for a cup of sugar… especially since my first victim was my own wife. How could I be so inhuman, you ask? Well… I didn't like her that much in the first place.

So here I am now, my soul sealed inside a skull-faced suit of armor, leaning up against this cold metallic wall and trying to sort out what remains of my life. Not that I can feel anything anymore, but human memories die hard. Can you even call my memories human? Maybe… but my feelings are a different story. The only thing that has ever given me joy is killing. Kinda demonic, right? Hey, all I'm saying is this—don't knock it until you've tried it. If I could live my life over again, I'd do everything the same. It'd be worth it, too, 'cuz the only sensation worth living for is the one brought on by murder.

I kill, therefore I am.

Eventually, I even got used to this armored body of mine. In fact, more often than not, it comes in handy. Is the victim fighting back? Hell if I know—I couldn't feel it anyway. I do like to see them struggle, though. Seeing those poor saps fighting for their lives to the very last second reminds me of the life I left behind.

But enough of this palaver. I guess you're wondering what my second alias is, right? Well, let's just say eventually my killing spree was brutally ended. The military in Central eventually caught up with me, all because of that stupid little runt-kid and his pretty little friend. I had them both imprisoned in my butcher's shop, and right as the game really started to get really good those damn military dogs were on me. I guess at that point I really started to feel afraid. Terrified, actually—if I was executed, I wouldn't be able to kill anymore.

I bet now you're wondering; 'how did good ol' Barry get to keep on truckin'?' Well, luck was with me again, and instead of getting executed I was sealed into this body and ordered to act as one of the guardians of the Fifth Laboratory. Easy labor, if you ask me. As long as I get to kill people, I could care less about what I look like. Now I'm referred to as 'Number 66,' which was my identification number when I was on death-row.

So I was happy for a little while. I killed anyone and everyone who tried to enter Lab Five; even some of the personnel… but we all make mistakes, don't we?

That's when my luck began to run out. The damn state alchemist runt who I mentioned early just HAD to come snooping around my territory, only this time with his kid brother who just happened to be sealed inside his own suit of armor and a crazy Ishbalan on their tails. Of course, I didn't know that at the time. Instead, I decided to personally introduce myself to the runt's brother—I swear, if the kid hadn't moved two inches more to the side, I would've gotten him right where it hurts. That's right… I'm talking about his blood seal; the beautiful gem of alchemy that can ground a soul into another form and keep it there. He and I had a long, hypothetical chat about the nature of life and alchemists in generally, and boy did I have fun messing with the kid's mind. Just when I was about to strike, that crazy Ishbalan came out of nowhere and tore my right arm clean away, bolts and all. I managed to escape, if only by detonating a bomb in the process and adding to the building chaos around the Fifth Laboratory. So I got away, and now I'm working with a band of mercenaries. Well, not really working, but you know what I mean. I've gotta do something with my spare time besides waiting for the next chance I meet up with the state alchemist brat, his armored brother, or that maniac Ishbalan.

I'd tear them all to pieces and savor every second.

Except for some reason… ever since that last encounter, killing just hasn't been as fun. I mean, don't get me wrong—I still adore it, but… whenever I get ready to plant the finishing move, I see myself in my victim's eyes.

If I meet up any of those three again, will I be the victim?

If so, I'm going to go down screaming and still trying to tear out their god-forsaken eyes. And then… they can all meet me in Hell.

'Cuz you can bet your ass, I'll still be killing.