Prologue
It was all a waterfall, a life in the river and again after the fall. Swimming endlessly in a void they heard words and thought they had found it all. These creatures were the ones who always played but never wanted to stay. They chose, thinking they would never lose. When they lost their mind they realized…
Welcome to a world that will bring you to your knees.
Chapter 1
Somewhere between sacred silence and sleep, he discovered disorder.
Roy Mustang navigated the hallways as best as he could, following the agonized screams that echoed off the stone walls. It was as if that voice alone was seeking escape. No physical incarnation followed. The screams relentlessly beat at its surrounding, but it wasn't a call for liberation. Wave after wave, proof to a desolate world. No stars could glisten here.
Not bothering to question the maze of hallways and rooms that existed in the lower levels of the church, Roy ran faster. He must be close. Along with the screams came another ill stricken sound. The only image that came to mind was that of a blade methodically beating on flesh and bone. The man stopped at a four way intersection. There seem to be no end to three of the halls. The only one that held any promise was covered by a set of bras double doors, its metal frame rusting. Behind the doors Roy heard- no, he could feel- the vibration of dozens of object and the doors themselves.
Suddenly a figure burst through the doors. The figure ran at full speed, trepidation digging into every fiber of skin. A woman in a white dress. Roy at least thought the dress was once white. Now it clung to the woman's body drenched in red, in blood.
A being that was no angel. Not knowing at the moment that she would be the invitation to come in, to be afraid, of the impressive mess that man could make.
The woman hesitated a second when she spotted Roy but seemed to have made a decision. His instinct much too slow to process what he had just seen and a bloodied bony hand grabbed his face. Startled, Roy grabbed hold of the woman's arm and pulled her towards him. Before her body could fall against his chest, Roy used his other arm to roughly knock over the woman from the neck. The woman's head made contact with the cold floor, an audible thump as the rest of her body hit the floor as well. All the while the screams that were once harrowing became deranged.
Roy continued forward, feeling only a tad bit guilty at a body that now laid unconscious behind. Abruptly, all trail of thought disappeared at the sight that lay beyond. Roy stood frozen at the entrance of the room. Strapped down by one leg, a young boy half laid on a bed, a long knife in his left hand. Roy watched with widening eyes as the small hand brought the blade to the side of a man's head. The man's body was slowly becoming wane, leaning all its weight on a table that stood beside the bed. Scarlet sprung onto the boy's body, straining to reach the head it repeatedly stabbed. Pools of red were everywhere as far as the eye could see under the candlelight of a single chandelier that hung above. Roy realized with shock that the blood that flowed to the ground was not only of the dead man's head but it flowed like a river of roses from the little boy. There was nothing where a left leg should have sat on the bed. Neither was there a right arm. Both limbs were among the carnage that trickled beneath.
If anyone had ever thought church doors to have been gold, now they were filthy and dark.
The man's body finally joined the fluid wasteland as the boy gave one final hit and dropped his weapon. As senses returned, Roy hurried his way toward the boy, his military uniform and boots quickly becoming damp. He recognized the golden eyes and hair that the young boy held. Yes, this was the same boy from the dozens of reports he had received at his office in Central. Roy had anticipated to find the boy in the middle of one of his rumored alchemic transmutations, proof that the reports had not lied of the golden boy's skills. Unable to grasp the reality of their first meeting, Roy began to work furiously as the boy's wounds. He tore cloth and wrapped up the ends of the right shoulder and left knee.
The boy had initially been washed with panic at the sight of Roy, not knowing if he had intended harm. Roy tried his best to show his good intentions by whispering words of assurance. There was no clear response but the boy's body relaxed as much as a dismembered body could.
The last memories that either of the two had was of the larger man cradling a broken body to his chest, dashing with desperation through the same halls he had entered and to a lifeless gray sky.