well, this is kinda the cumulatoion (is that the word I'm thinking of? I'm not quite sure... I'm just gonna act like it is) of all the ideas and false starts I've had on the idea of post-show fics. this takes place after episode 51 and before the movie... well except this chapter because it's a prelude but... that's beside the point.
ANYWHO! yes, I am Aoshi on Speed, the world-renowned procrastination master. but I have also been banned from the computer for five months so for once, I have an excuse. anyways, even though the MAIN characters are Scar and Kimbly (no... no ScarxKimbly... NOOOOOO!!!! they still hate each other) I have a ton of other characters and even a few original characters... sorry, I couldn't help myself.
wish me luck, maybe I'll acctually reach the end of this one without forgetting about it or moving to another crackhead idea.
Enjoy!
The first beams of the morning sun filtered through the many windows and cracks in the stone walls of the cathedral. Particles of dust and dew were illuminated in the air as they drifted into the soft light then drifted lightly to the ground where they rested silently. They partook in this momentary calm that came over the usually busy and crowded sanctuary. In this time of turmoil, even the dust was thankful for rest.
Unfortunately, the dust particles and dewdrops would find their rest to be cut short as a young woman in flowing robes swept through the room and sent them into the air once more.
Rose silently apologized to the empty room for disturbing this momentary calm, but there was work to be done, today was going to be very, very busy. She listened as the quiet padding of her feet echoed softly as she walked through the corridors.
She finally reached the door she sought and gently knocked. Nothing moved inside. She knocked again but the room remained silent. She finally opened the door and poked her head in. the open window let the sunlight flood the room. Despite the blinding morning light, a man's sleeping silhouette stood out against the glowing white window. Rose was always slightly amused whenever she got the off chance to see this man sleep.
When she was very young, her parents took her to a zoo in East City. He always reminded her of the adolescent lions she saw there. His shaggy, untamed hair stuck out on the top of his head in wispy strands just like the underdeveloped mane of the young male lions. Like many guys, he also liked to sleep shirtless; reminding Rose, yet again, of the bare torso the young lions, uncovered by the adult mane. He even slept like one of the giant cats. He slept on his side, shoulders hunched, limbs jutting out from the side of the bed, looking in grave danger of falling off altogether. His facial muscles and fingers twitched every so often, reminiscent of the way the young cubs coursed with youthful, impatient energy while their body's need for rest restrained it.
If any bystander did not know who this man was, they would feel the same way they did when they watched a dog sleep after it wore itself out playing with it's littermates. Unfortunately, a spindly tattoo snaking down his arm and a pale x-shaped scar marring his face made his identity unmistakable. He was Scar, a merciless serial killer who left little more than an unrecognizable pile of flesh at every murder scene.
Rose remembered this and sighed heavily. He did not try to deny that he had done exactly what the reports said, he was not wrongly accused, and never tried to act like he was. Despite that, she did not fear him.
A small pendant hung on it's chain around his neck. She had heard them talking about it but only caught bits and pieces of the conversation. She looked up at his face, he was still dead asleep. She gingerly reached out towards it. She knew it was very important to him, but she never got to see it up close. Now that she had a chance to, she marveled at how well-crafted it was.
Her fingers hovered over the tiny pendant. She could feel his breath on her wrist, the slow rhythm told her he was still dead asleep. She finally gently let her fingertips trace over the smooth silver.
No sooner had she touched it did Scar's crimson eyes snap open and his tattooed arm shot out, gripping her arm tightly.
"QUIEN HOY ALLI!?" He demanded ferociously.
Rose jumped back, eyes wide in, for the first time in a long time, utter terror of him. He barred his teeth like an angry animal and even after his demand had been said, a deep growl rumbled in his throat.
After a moment his eyes recognized the young girl, and his brain registered that there was no threat. He released her arm, leaving white marks in her skin that quickly began to fade.
"Lo ciento- I mean… my apologies." he quickly corrected himself, realizing he was speaking a language she didn't understand. He propped himself up on his elbows and squinted against the bright light. "It appears that I've slept in, is that right?" he said, looking at Rose once more. She nodded.
He sighed and swung his legs out over the side of the bed "I guess that means I should get up then."
OoOoOo
Edward Elric, the famed, esteemed, state alchemist; who got his license at the age of twelve… now sat at the bottom of the stairs; cuffed, ignored, hungry, and taken hostage by a few townsfolk with little more than sticks… oh the irony. There was some huge commotion going on in the other room, something about speaking beasts and a explosions following a man like rats followed the pied piper.
It was then that Scar had (rather more forcibly than was really necessary) ejected him from the room. "the stupid prick's probably still sore that I beat him up last night." Edward muttered to himself, "honestly, what did he expect? In school he'd get beat up on a daily basis for dressing so stupid… first the yellow leather jacket, that was one thing, but now a man-dress?"
"says the boy in skin-tight leather and long sleeves in the desert…" A deep, gruff voice sounded from the doorway, making Ed jump. Scar leaned against the frame, arms crossed, face emotionless as ever. "and it has been a very long time since I have been in school." Scar said, pushing off from the wall and unfolding his arms as he walked toward Edward.
The young boy smiled and laughed nervously, "oh, so you uh… heard that huh?" Scar ignored him. Regaining his composure, Edward shook off his fear of the intimidating man, "so is your little party in there over, or did you finally find an invitation for me?" Edward said with a devious smirk. Scar kneeled down so that he was eye-level to the boy and gave him a hard stare. Edward fell silent almost immediately.
Scar glared a moment longer to ensure the boy would stat quiet, then looked down and began to un-lock the wooden shackles on the boy's wrists. They clattered to Edward's feet after a few moments and Scar rose once more.
Edward blinked in confusion and looked at his wrists, "you… you're letting me go?" he called after scar as he turned to leave. Scar made a noncommittal noise. "but… why not kill me now? Nobody's watching… you could've blamed it on the talking beasts running through the town." Edward said incredulously as he stood up. Scar stopped, but did not turn to face the boy.
There was a long pause. Finally the older man spoke, "for two reasons…" he turned and face Ed, "for one, I need you to lead the people in an evacuation. Because I have to stay here as a lure, you have the responsibility to get them out of here safely…"
Edward waited, but the man said no more, "and… reason number two?" he asked.
Scar turned again, "I made a promise… to end this life of bloodshed that I have led… as of tomorrow, I will never kill again."
Ed blinked, "but… it's not tomorrow yet… you can still kill whoever you want!" he pointed out. A noise came from Scar that sounded almost like a laugh. "a word of advise, boy," he said over his shoulder, "when the angel of death overlooks you, don't point out to him his mistake." with that, he left the hallway.
"and be careful of where you place that 'man-dress' comment. It may offend someone less forgiving than myself."
OoOoOoO
With the darkness, bloodshed rained down upon the town. Rabid, talking beasts struck down the defenseless people like lightning, their demonic laughter rumbling through the air like thunder. A man dressed in the military blue uniform followed after them. Explosions blossomed in his wake, rubble fell from the sky like hail, and the dead bodies paved the path he had walked.
"why're you running huh?" he called, his voice chillingly clear amidst cries for mercy and screams of terror, "why aren't you fighting back?" he trailed his fingers along a nearby wall, creating a line of explosions that followed him quick succession. "can't you give me some kind of fun here?" Blood sprayed onto his face; he only smiled wider.
"You insects are even more worthless than the damn Ishbalans were!" he called to them. One last explosion detonated behind him, flinging dust and blood into the air to rain back down to earth in a ghastly drizzle. The man held out his arms and turned his face upward to receive it. His entire body stood ready, his nerves tingled in expectance of the wet warmth of newly spilt blood as it splattered against his skin, his eyes focused to take in every detail of the destruction he had made, and his ears were tuned for their pitiful cries for mercy that would come any moment… he waited… they did not come. His smile vanished.
He snapped his eyes open and looked around. Not a soul cried, not even a whimper. His arms dropped as the biggest, and the leader of the talking beasts strode up to his side, "what? Have they decided to get brave finally?"
"No, Kimbley." the beast said, turning it's scaly head up to him, "They're dead."
"oh…" he said, more disappointed than sad, "already?"
"I am as surprised as you." It said, shaking the blood from it's white mane then proceeding to lick the bits of flesh from it's claws. "wait," it said suddenly as something caught it's eye. A cloaked figure stalked toward them, hood up and eyes shadowed. The beast sniffed the air then pulled it's black lips back over it's bloodied teeth in a twisted smile, "He smells of sand and gunpowder mixed with blood…" he turned it's smile back to Kimbley, "It's him…"
"who goes there." the figure spoke with a deep, gravely voice that demanded information rather than requesting it. The beast let out a laugh that could have easily been mistaken for a bark. It turned to it's companions, "the human speaks with a firm voice…" the leader crouched down, its soldiers mimicked him, "I wonder what he'll sound like when he begs for mercy!" he sprung, leading his pack in a full-out charge.
The cloaked man didn't move. The Chimera leader wondered if maybe he had gone blind in the chaos. The beasts were less than ten feet from him now. In the blink of an eye, the leader sprung; claws extended, teeth opened and ready to shred flesh. The beast's body flew easily two feet above the man's head in a deadly arc. The man did not move.
In mid-air, the beast began to salivate, this guy was a better build than the other skinny, watery villagers. This would be his reward for serving his nation, they would put him right again, just like they promised. How couldn't they? If they rewarded Archer for bringing them Kimbley and Tucker, imagine what they would give him when he brought them Scar's head. This was it, no longer would he be a hideous beast, salivating at the thought of human flesh. With this man's death, his life would be resurrected. His eyes grew wide, long streams of saliva trailed from his lips, he could almost taste the Scarred flesh.
"SAY YOUR PRAYERS, SCARRED MAN!" the beast screamed, laughing hysterically.
The man moved. He turned his face up and blazing crimson eyes glared at the lunging beast, his lips moved, forming murmured words the Chimera could not hear until, "-and may god forget your sins and welcome you to paradise…"
The poor beast never knew what hit him. His blood spattered his comrade seconds before he, too, fell victim to the cursed arm that had claimed so many before them. His blood spattered on the beast after him, and that blood on the next, and so on until the beasts were no more.
The Scarred man looked up to the last soldier left, and pulled his hood down to glare at him.
"Amen…"
OoOoOoOo
He smiled widely, spat the blood that had been collecting in his throat at Scar's feet and stared into the distance, for his eyes were no longer of any use, he only saw shadows now, "I sure hope you can find someone else, because it looks like I'm about to re…tire…" with that last breath, the Crimson Alchemist's body went numb, his joints stiffened, and his face froze in that ghastly manic grin.
He heard the Scarred man's breathing pattern begin to increase with panic as he took a pause to let the information sink in. when he realized the situation was inescapable, he let go of Kimbley's body and let it fall to the ground. In his final moments, as the shadows dimmed even more, Kimbley imagined what the expression of utter helplessness must look like on the Scarred Ishbalan's face… it was a pity he couldn't see it.
The shadows faded, and the world went black.
OoOoOoOo
A rat scurried over the rubble and bodies, nose in the air, following the scent. The scent of his master. Any other rodent would have been scared off by the falling rubble and earth-shattering explosions, but this was no ordinary rat. This rat had a loyalty to honor, and was about the size of a medium-sized dog, it would not be forced off-path easily.
The scent was almost overwhelming now. Since the rat knew humans didn't release their scent in large quantities (mainly because most of their scent was in their blood), a strong scent meant that they were bleeding. Judging by the intensity, the Master was bleeding a lot.
There was a large suit of armor in the rat's way. It was halfway black and smelled of gunpowder and sulfur. Another telltale sign that his Master had been there.
It scampered over the metal and stared at the sight before its eyes. There the master lay, motionless, drenched in his own blood, and a gaping hole through his torso.
The rat galloped up to its master's side and gently nudged his cheek, his eyes did not blink, and his face did not move.
But, the slightest of a breath wheezed out of his lips. The loyal rodent knew that even though its master was not dead yet, he would be soon.
The rat solemnly tried once more to get a reaction, but to no avail. So, it turned, put a paw on its master's shoulder and hoisted itself up onto his back. Then walked over and curled up over the hole in the man's back. The rat rested its head on its forearms and closed its eyes. If nothing else, he would wait here for death to take them both.
After a few minutes, the rat heard footsteps approaching and lifted it's head. Three men came running towards them; the rat's fur began to stand on end; a warning to the men. They were led by the one with pale skin that the master was often talking to… the man smelled of corruption.
The pale one took a look at the body and shook his head, then took a few steps toward the master and the rat. A loud hiss shot from the rodent's throat as it sprang to it's feet, fur fluffed and looking even larger than before. The pale one looked at the master's body once more then smiled. He turned and gave orders to his followers that the rat didn't understand. One pulled out a small gun, loaded it, aimed, and fired.
A small dart pierced the rodent's neck and the world went black.
OoOoOoOoOo
"Brother…"
The word just barely escaped the scarred man's lips. The crimson glow was growing brighter, yet the world was fading. Soon, the light enveloped him; his body went numb, his all noise faded to silence, and everything went white.
His red eyes snapped open. Nothing but white stretched out before them, it was totally silent. The blinding pain he had been in moments ago vanished; did that mean that God had healed him in death? Had he been forgiven? No. Though the pain was gone, his arms had not returned. He rolled over and saw that the shoulders to which they had been attached were still bleeding, along with all his other wounds… he was not healed, only numbed.
Scar managed to sit up and took a sharp breath as he saw the gigantic black gate before him. The people carved in the ornate frame screamed and wept in pain and agony. Some attacked each other, others appeared to be desperately attempting to free themselves from the door their bodies were fused to, others still reached out to him for help. His eyes grew wide in a terror he hadn't felt in a long time. There was no longer any doubt in his mind… he had definitely not been escorted to heaven.
He had always suspected that he would be dragged to hell and thought he'd probably deserve it, but now that the gate was before him, horror wracked his body with violent tremors. He no longer wished to accept his fate; he wanted to run, but a mixture of awe and paralyzing fear kept him from looking away from the ghastly door, much less run. That is… until there was a noise from within.
Voices… speaking his name. Not his codename either, the name he had been born with. Hundreds of voices, some he thought he knew others he didn't. the shivers ravaging his body lessened slightly, maybe… this really was the right path, the door was just a test…
Scar rose to his feet cautiously, he thought he heard a very familiar voice, "b… Brother?" he called reproachfully. The other voices stopped and only one called back, "Brother… is it you? Is it really my little brother?" Though he hadn't heard his brother's voice in years, Scar could never have forgot it.
"BROTHER!" he called happily, the first smile in years spreading across his face. He ran towards the door.
"my brother…" the voice repeated. The door began to crack open slowly, a bright light was visible beyond the heavy black iron.
"brother…" the voice repeated, more quietly. Scar didn't notice that the tone of his brother's voice was changing. The door was almost open enough for him to see inside.
"my brother." the voice echoed again.
He was so close, he was two arm's length from being able to touch it (well, that is if he had arms) that was when the voice changed entirely "My dearest little brother!!!!" the voice screamed. distorted and demonic, it rumbled and echoed over the emptiness. The great doors suddenly swung open as if blown apart by the force of the monster inside.
Scar's smile vanished instantly. The light was snuffed out and replaced by a pure black wall of nothingness. He stopped immediately as the door swung open and stood, dumbstruck, for a moment. That is, until eyes of varying size and color snapped open and glared down at him. The demon voice sounded again, "come, face your fate."
Scar turned to run, but long, unnaturally twisted arms shot out, grabbed him, then pulled him into the abyss before he could get more than a foot away. The heavy iron door slammed shut after him.
After the last echoes of the man's scream faded, the room fell silent and lie in patient wait once more.
OoOoOoOo
A year after the incident in Lior, a young soldier wandered the halls under his actual post. He was new, he didn't know the layout of the lab yet. Somehow, he had ended up in the basement… which, by the way, was very cold… and was also, by the way, inadequately lit… and was also, by the way, out-of-use since the new regime had taken over… and was also rumored to be where they held the human guinea pigs after they had been too horribly disfigured to be of any adequate test subject… as well as where the tortured, disfigured, angry, and vengeful souls of the dead subjects manifested still. So he had good reason to be on the verge of soiling himself. The only thing lighting his path was a small flashlight on the end of his gun. It illuminated a small circle on the floor, but not much more.
Finally, the young man saw a light ahead, he'd found the door at last! He began to run toward it but suddenly stopped… he could have sworn he heard a different set of footsteps falling with his own. He looked behind him, but nothing was there, "hello?" he called. but he heard nothing more.
He shook his head and continued, he was just letting his fear get to him, that's all… he heard them again. Not the sound of hard rubber soles plugging along the concrete, soft padding of bare feet with the harsh clacking of claws. He was closer to the door now. He stopped abruptly again, "Who's there?" he called again. But his voice was the only sound.
He was frightened more now so he turned and sprinted down the hallway, the noise came again, but this time faster than his own footfall. The young man whirled around as he stopped a third time and pointed the light down the hall, and screamed, "WHO GOES TH-"
A large, black, furry, mass lunged at him, long, white teeth extending from the darkness. It hit the young man in the chest, knocking the air from his lungs and digging it's teeth into his shoulder. Then, as quickly as it came, it released the bleeding soldier, leaped over his body with long, muscular legs, and scampered for the door on all four legs.
As the young man looked back, he caught a glimpse of a grotesque creature. It had the body of a man with long, lanky limbs and thick black fur; it's head was that of a giant rat but had long, silken, black, hair that hung limply in the creature's face and down it's back. A long, fleshy tail whipped along behind it. It looked at the young man with large, amber eyes for a moment before sprinting off, down the hall and out of sight.