A/N: Let us assume that when there is no heading, it is back to my point of view.
My head was brimming with all sorts of foul language and curses, some in other languages, as I tried to catch up to the vanishing alchemist. Dammit! The minute he'd begun talking to me, my brain had fried. Poof! Gone! Every possible kind of intelligent thought, vanished in an instant. And now? Now I was chasing a blond shorty and a walking pile of armor through a town that was not supposed to exist.
I berated myself over and over, attempting to keep my harshening breaths and the painful thudding in my chest from overriding my desperate need for answers. I'd seen the episode in Brotherhood where Ed had transmuted himself, Ling, and Envy out to the real world; maybe he could do the same for me? That, at least, was my initial reasoning.
But first, my conscience reminded me venomously, you've gotta catch someone with fifteen years of training versus your hardly-get-up-to-grab-the-remote self through sheer willpower. Nice job. It added a sarcastic kind of clap to the mix, just to infuriate me further.
Sometimes, I swear, she was like a grossly overweight cat squatting on my head; complaining about the current situation but not actually doing anything to fix it. I didn't bother to even try to shoot back a witty, snappy comment this time. The debate would go on for far too long, and I didn't have time-
Suddenly, my legs threw up their hypothetical hands and said "I'm done!". As if in slow motion, I saw one foot hit a loose rock and the ground start to loom up closer, while my quarry got further away. Dammit! was now becoming the word of the day while I chanted it inside my head, more furious for falling over than I was hurt.
The breath whooshed out of me quickly, and I was reminded of how, though it wasn't supposed to be real, the ground could apparently still hurt. Fantastic. I'll add that to my checklist of things I hate about anime. Laying there for a moment after the initial impact, I found myself cursing existence itself. Later, I decided mutinously, I would have a talk with someone. Not sure who, but you can bet they'll regret it. If I could somehow manage to get back to my world.
With no small amount of renewed hatred at the world in general, I peeled myself off the stone, wincing at a cut in my knee and a hearty scrape on my left hand that felt like I'd stuck it into a fire. The Elric brothers? Gone. The goody-two-shoes inside me chose that moment to whisper something along the lines of 'at least you're still okay'. She received a middle finger from my conscience and was promptly shut up for the remainder of the day.
I sat down on the ground, glaring at the alleyway in front of me. The two had jumped the fence in between the stucco buildings and disappeared around the corner, leaving me to sit here in the middle of an even worse mess than I was before. So now what?
An old lady walked by, and stopped next to me, giving me what looked to be an ancient evil eye. She wore a faded shawl that was either pink, red, or maybe purple at one point, and an equally faded dress that fell to her withered old feet encased in sandals. Her hair was grey, that much I could tell, and I think her eyes might have been green.
"Why were you chasing those two boys?" she asked me, in a forceful way that surprised me in its intensity. She sounded like an old lady should, rusty and decrepit, but…there was a strange type of youth in her features and the way she walked. Not to mention the glare she'd delivered.
"I...Uh…wanted to ask them something." Very nice, hero. Show her how intelligent you are, why don't you? My conscience didn't want to shut up. I suppose it was rather self-righteous; seeing as how it may have been right about the whole 'go to bed' thing after all.
"Ask them what?" She pressed impatiently. Geez, this lady liked to pry.
"I'm sorry," I said, standing up shakily and brushing myself off, frowning at my shoes. "I don't remember it being your business."
I regretted it the moment it left my mouth. Okay, so I was having a rough time, but that didn't mean I needed to be so nasty to other people. Even if they didn't really exist and I'd probably never see them again.
"I'm sorry." I said again, rubbing the back of my neck ashamedly. "I wanted to see if they could help me get to where I'm going. I'm having a bad day. I didn't mean to snap at you."
She waved her hand dismissively. "Alright." With that, she began walking away with that weird kind of grace that she had. Must be the anime, part of me reasoned. It didn't have to be lifelike.
The other part was agape at her reaction. So she wanted to know about what I was saying to the Elrics but didn't care about the rest of it? And she didn't so much as blink when I insulted her like that. A little red flag popped up in my mind, something about this lady that I'd seen before, but I couldn't put my finger on it.
As I stared at her, trying to figure it out, the wind kicked up one of those convenient gusts that happens a lot in these places. The kind that makes the main character's hair fly dramatically backwards while they're speaking. The old lady was talking to herself, apparently. More like muttering, but it had the same effect. A wisp of a sentence flew my way, and I felt as though the world had pulled the rug out from under my feet.
"Dammit," she cursed under her breath. "That bitch scared off the Elric brats. Now I'm going to have to find them. Again."
Her voice was not that of an old lady anymore. It was scratchy, and strange in a sort of throaty way. And it was undeniably Envy's.
"Envy!" I looked around in shock to see who else had recognized him through his disguise, but that was before I realized that I was the idiot who'd spoken. And now I saw that he was looking straight at me, his old-lady head craned over his shoulder.
"Who are you?" he asked in her voice, cold, icy anger bordering on his tone, like the way you can feel electricity in the air right before a bad storm.
"No one!" I managed to squeak, feeling a wave of terror wash over me. "No one at all! Don't mind me! I'll just be-"
I'd begun to walk slowly backwards, thinking that if I could just get far enough away, I might be able to hide. Rule number one, I'd learned from watching this insane show, was to not attract attention; particularly that of the vengeful homunculi.
I'm not really sure what happened next. Surely, I'd moved somehow, or he had, or something, but all that my mind really registered was a blur of motion and the high-pitched squeal not unlike a mouse's last words. Now, I was in a dark alleyway with my back against the wall and a hand against my throat. And there he was.
Red lighting crackled its way down his body, which was now the one he claimed as his 'cute' form. Muscled arms and legs bared by black fabric and topped with spiked forest-green hair that sprouted from the top of his head and was often likened to a palm tree. Envy, the jealous.
I would've laughed at his expression, were I safely on my couch and not currently in the grasp of one of his aforementioned black fabric-covered hands. He was markedly pissed and I could guess the reason for it.
"Tell me who you are or die," he hissed, his expression dead-serious. Yeah. I did that on purpose. Funny how I can crack jokes on this limited air supply, right? Not really. It was odd, being on the other side of the story. I'd always cheer for Envy, him being my favorite character, and I'd always thought it would be like heaven if I'd get to meet him.
Stupid fangirl fantasies. No, what I felt now was not the fuzzy, warm, tingly feeling of beginning love, but pure, ice-cold fear. It trickled down from my spine and pooled itself in my feet, turning every muscle on the way into jelly. I didn't see an interesting-looking guy with an awesome attitude. I didn't feel like the princess being swept off her feet. He was a mass of anger; of pure, unbridled power, and of unimaginable cruelty. What was I? A simple mouse who'd wandered into the wrong hands.
Honestly, I felt like I was about to be eaten.
"My name's Peyton," I managed to croak, clutching pathetically at his hand. Interestingly enough, I don't think my feet were touching the ground. At the time, I was losing the feeling in most of my body, though, so I couldn't be sure. "I came from another world. I know about you, about everything."
"Peyton?" he repeated. "Not a sacrifice. And you know everything?" That nasty grin that I used to nearly swoon over spilled across his face, now bringing a fresh wave of terror washing over me. "That makes you a liability."
My chest hurt, was the first thought that sprang to mind. The next was the feeling that it didn't just hurt, it had a brand spanking new gaping wound in the front, probably caused by the other hand that he'd, somewhere along the line, turned into a spike and was now dripping blood, and 'hurt' didn't even cover it.
I couldn't react much as he dropped me to the floor, the world tilting crazily as my head banged against the pavement, adding to the torrent of pain that flooded my mind. I coughed, feeling warm, metallic liquid spill out of my mouth and onto the concrete, which was now turning a lovely shade of red. There weren't any real thoughts running around in my mind, just agony that rushed up through me, fading my vision and turning it the same color as the floor was now.
"Sorry I couldn't chat with you," he snickered at my limp body, pushing me over daintily with his foot. "I've got other things to do." With that, he turned back into the old lady and walked out of the shadows quickly, so no one would notice the dead body in the alley.
My eyes started being swallowed by blackness, and I could hear what sounded like a heartbeat, slowly, slowly, slowly…stopping. My last thought was the clichéd, "Is this…really how it ends?..."
Then the blackness claimed me entirely, and I stopped thinking at all.
A/N: I love writing death scenes. Although this one was admittedly not my best. *sad face*
P.S. This is not how it ends.
P.P.S. Yes, I'm going to employ a time-honored tradition among fanfiction writers:
The Bringer-Back-to-Lifer.
I'll make it as painful as possible.