~*~Ch 1-Lost Child~*~

Iris woke on the train to Central just as the whistle warned of its arrival. She had spent days on the train in a car all to herself, courtesy of the Fuhrer, of course. No one ever questions the military. She gazed out the window, lost in her dark abyss. She had learned a long time ago not to leave the mental prison: that always ensured a beating or two. Besides, she didn't want to bring back the haunting memories of her past. She had no reason to remember her origins, and they seem to have no benefit.
Ten minutes later, the train lurched to a stop in the early morning of Central. Foot traffic was light considering the early hour, so Iris was easily able to spot Mustang, who was always there to pick her up.
He was an odd character, in her opinion. He didn't look at her the way the others did. The others looked at her as if she was nothing more than a slave or an animal that was only there because they chose her to be. He, however, looked at her as if he actually considered her human, and something always colored his expressions around her....pity? Sadness? Iris didn't really care, so she quit thinking about it for now as she glided down the steps and stopped in front of him, giving the obligatory slight bow. "Colonel, the mission was a success," she stated with no emotion, though the empty tone was somewhat more human. Mustang replied, then asked, "are you alright, Samantha?"
Iris blanched at the name: her birth name. This name was never to be used for fear of taking her out of the shadows. She quickly glared malevolently at him. "You know better than that, Colonel." He grimaced, then led Iris to the headquarters, the whole ride quiet.

"So, the mission was a success? Good job, Iris." The Fuhrer grinned at her. "Did you feel anything?"
"Of course not, sir. I am not meant to." Iris gave a grand bow, then gracefully stalked out of the room to meet Mustang. "I need more training," Iris commented. Mustang nodded, then led her down to the unknown floors of HQ.
Under the ground of Central HQ lies a place in which the most dastardly alchemy is performed, from alchemizing Chimeras to human experiments and even human transmutation. This was where special Chimeras were made to fight Iris-they were constantly wiped out by the time she was done.
She stared at the cage that contained glowing red eyes and a snarling voice. A switch was activated, and out jumped the first Chimera, which she easily cut to pieces. Several more were released at once, all which she quickly eliminated. One caught her off guard: she was punished with a massive gash on her right arm she never felt. She kicked the beast away effortlessly into the wall, its head smashing with a ghastly crack. Mustang strode up to her, asking, "Are you okay?"
"Oh...the wound."
Mustang's face showed that same expression, like he actually felt bad for her since she was gifted with her skills. "I think that's enough for today."
"As you wish." They entered the elevator and rode up to the main floor.

Mustang was able to bandage her up as they ascended, but the blood bled through by the time they arrived to the main hall. Iris was able to cover most of it with a jacket, but she had to make sure no one stopped to notice her hand, which was covered with Chimera's blood. She became worried as two boys, or rather a boy and a man, walked their direction and blocking the hallway. The man was in a huge suit of armor, who was accompanied by a smaller child in black with a red trenchcoat. The boy was slightly taller than her, but she wasn't that tall herself. They stopped, unexpectedly, and the Colonel asked, "Any luck?"
"Not yet.......what? No sarcasm about how we're wasting money on a goose chase? You must be rusty." The kid ranted on and on, which annoyed Iris slightly. The man in the armor seemed to stare at her, interested, then stopped at her hand and slightly gasped. She glared and hid her hand behind her back, but apparently not fast enough: the kid saw her hand. "Who are you? And why are you bleeding?"
"I don't think it is any of your business, child."
He immediantly began yelling at her, somehow stretching her child comment to a long-winded insult about his height. Mustang chuckled, then stopped. "We need to go." Mustang pushed her through them and shuffled her down to the clinic. She could feel the boy's eyes on her back.

"So, who were those two? That was....odd." Iris was being bandaged up by Nellie, the only nurse who was allowed to see her. She was slightly aware of what Iris did, but the exact missions were never disclosed to her.
Mustang laughed. "They're the Elrics. The punk is Ed, a State Alchemist here, and your age, too."
"And the man? I'm guessing that's his older brother or even his supervising superior?"
This sent Mustang into a laughing spasm. "That's his younger brother, Alphonse. I'm their superior."
"Ah. They better stay out of my way, if they know what is good for them."
"They have a knack of getting into trouble."
"Now I am going to have to anesthise you, so that I can stitch you up." Nellie thought that Iris was human, so anathesia seemed needed. She nodded, then felt sleep grab her deeper into the abyss with the subtle prick of a needle...
Her empty dreams were no more. For some reason, that Ishbalan girl came back. Except the girl was her, an innocent youth never influenced by the military. It made Iris sick, but she didn't know why. Suddenly, flashes shocked through her.
A small house in the countryside, painted in a pale blue and the only building for miles around. A doll in her hand, tattered and ratty yet loved all the same-Lucy was her name. Then a woman that looked like Iris, except with caring, warm amber eyes and a beautiful smile, calling her name.
Samantha....
Samantha....
Please come home.
Her eyes opened with a jolt. "All done!" exclaimed Nellie enthusiastically. Iris nodded, trying to stay in the dark abyss. She was quickly surfacing to the top, dangerous territory. She strode out of the room, somewhat faster than usual. Mustang seemed to have a confused expression on his face: he noticed. Crap.
She was going to have to force herself back into the abyss, else risk punishment. But a curiosity began to well in her...Who was that? Does others know about me? I wonder if there's hidden records about me....there ought to be.
Iris was led to her bare-walled and bland apartment. Mustang had bought her some purple bedding and curtains to brighten up the room for her-he always seemed to be so nice to her-but she never acknowledged it until now. She sat on the bed, waiting for Mustang to leave. He did not.
"You may leave now, Colonel." Her voice was perfectly emotionless-she seemed to be a master at acting. He didn't seem persuaded. He walked to the bed, kneeling so that he was at eye level with her. "You have...some life in your eyes. What happened?"
She just looked at him, blankly.
He grimaced, seeming to be in pain. "You can trust me."
She was suddenly confused. Her face betrayed it to, furthering his confusion. He sat next to her on the bed, then hugged her lovingly, like a caring father with his daughter. More flashes.
A tall man with short brown hair and glasses running to her in work clothes, grinning and calling her name. She enthusiatcally dashed to him, calling, "Daddy! Daddy!" He scooped her into his arms, holding her and telling her, "I missed you, Sam!"
"I miss you too, Daddy!"
Sam....
Samantha....
Warmth crept into her eyes, then warm moisture streamed down her cheeks....tears? This was new. She sat there, weeping silently, confused, sad, and frightened at the emotions coursing through.
She must have fallen asleep; it was twilight the next time she had opened her eyes. She looked around, disoriented. She decided to ask about her past, to get a hold of the memories and maybe even get rid of them, for her sanity.

As she shuffled through the hall to the Fuhrer's office, the image of her as a small child kept popping in her mind. So happy.....why would she choose to leave that? Or did she have a choice? She wanted to believe she chose the path she was on, of her own free will-that would be the most reasonable thing...who would abduct a child like that?
"Have some questions, this late at night?"
She was startled. Distracted, she had bumped into him as he was walking in the hallway. "Oh, um...actually, yes. I'd like to know how I got here."
"Will that affect your work?" He seemed kind enough about the subject: there wasn't an indication in how he acted to warn her of upcoming punishment.
"Of course not. I would just like to know, for motivation, y'know?"
"Well, I don't see how it would hurt. Come with me into my office."

"What about your coming would you like to know?"
"Everything."
Bradley sighed. "This will be a long story; go ahead and sit down." Iris obeyed.
"Six years ago, there was a massive fire in a house in the countryside. Usually it wouldn't have caught our attention, but the owner of the house, your father, was a huge contributor to the military-he owned a winery and gave plenty of money.
"Anyways, we arrived at the scene too late to save your parents, but you were still there in the wreckage, unconcious and barely alive. Mustang, a close friend of your family, immediately called for help to get you out. We were able to keep you alive while we were rushing you to our military hospital-the regular one in Central's downtown wouldn't have the equipment to save you. You were badly burned and wounded-it's a wonder you were alive. It took a month to completely bandage you up, but almost three before you woke up.
"You were a mess. Had no idea what was going on, so we told you everything. Since you had no family left, you decided to become part of the military. You agreed to try a new project we had been working on, to enhance your abilities. It was a success. Then we decided to make you our personal assassin. That's it."
"Then why don't I remember any of it?"
"Part of the training."
The story seemed good enough, so she just thanked him and went back to her room to go to sleep.