Succubus
By Kurama-sweethart
Pairing:
Mainly Lust x Roy with mentions of Lust x Marcoh
Rating: R for general theme
Warnings: Alternate Animeverse, Spoilers for Ishval
Words: 1225

I.

The fortress was looming and tall in the flat, barren desert; a golden castle amongst chaos like in so many storybook fairytales. In all actuality, it didn't appear to be in any turmoil, standing strong with its stone walls and iron gates.

But Roy knew better.

Just a few yards from the back of the stronghold was a trio of old horses pawing the ground, bags loaded with colorful woven blankets and knapsacks of provisions. Their leaders must have rode those horses, Roy thought foggily, eyes noting the stampedes of footprints all around their fort. The rest arrived on foot.

"Men," General Robertson called, as they were only a few yards from the building, themselves. "Wait outside the gates until the alchemists give you the signal. Alchemists," He paused, eyes glowing in the hard sunlight. "Leave nothing left to identify."

Roy heard Kimblee, The Crimson Alchemist, snickering from somewhere behind him. Armstrong, The Strong Arm, stood strong and silent to his right. Hesitantly, he tossed a glance over his shoulder and caught the sharp eyes of Hawkeye, watching him. Even when he turned away, she did not.

"Yes, sir!" The alchemists saluted. When the General's hand had come to rest at his side once again, that was their signal. They must have looked brave, Roy scowled to himself, walking so fearlessly into the fortress overcome by their enemy.

But at that moment, he was afraid.

II.

The front gate was easy to enter; the lock appeared shattered. Roy was the first to crawl in, the smallest man of them to fit between the splinters of what had been iron-barred doors. Immediately his nose caught the stench of blood, although it was so dark he couldn't see any. The floor was wet, and keeping his footing on the stone took almost all his concentration. Around his fingers he could feel the rough material of his gloves, and sometimes he would rub them together, just to make sure they were still there.

"Entryway is clear," He called behind him. A few more alchemists he didn't recognize clambered through, after him. "You two take the left chamber, and you four the right. I'll take the middle. Armstrong, watch the outside in case someone tries to flee."

Each alchemist hurriedly saluted and complied. Taking a deep breath, Roy began to ascend the main stairwell.

Almost a half hour later, there was no sign of the Ishvalan attackers and Roy was beginning to wonder if he should head back. He had scoured the top floors, the artillery rooms, and found nothing taken or disturbed. The chambers in which each soldier slept also looked as if it were left alone, with no sign of a struggle or hasty retreat. Every level seemed peaceful, and since there had been no screams, he assumed that the ground floor was the same, as well.

Taking a long, spiral staircase downward into the prison, Roy felt water drip from the ceiling above him. How did a place like this, in the desert, get so wet? His mind whispered, but he didn't linger on the thought too long.

At the landing, Roy tossed a glance around a corner, straining his eyes to focus on what was in the cells and shackles

Instantly, his stomach clenched and he vomited over the stone floor.

III.

The room was spinning around him, and he saw speckles of light flash in front of him. Leaning against the archway, he gasped and tried to breathe through the bile.

Somewhere inside the cell, he heard something. Squinting his eyes shut, he pushed into the chamber. Slumped against the wall was the naked corpse of a woman, her hands tied to the ceiling and her feet dangling. Her breasts were half torn from her body, dangling by the skin from her torso. The area between her legs was totally ripped out, creating a large cavity up to her ribcage. Obviously, whoever was behind this was a fan of sexual torture.

Just beside her, bound to the wall was the form of a dark-skinned man, although the only indication of his sex was his lack of bosom. Nothing but a gash ran from his navel down to his buttocks, genitals completely removed. His feet were completely distorted and obviously broken to the last bone, and they hung limp from his legs that had been stripped of muscle and skin. Dark bruises dotted his arms and face like freckles.

Roy swallowed, noticing small, Ishvalan writing seared into their necks, branding them, he recognized, as "Prisoners 17 and 37". Walking farther into the cell, more and more bodies littered the walls and floor, each one dismantled and ripped; some to a point that they were unidentifiable.

"A'alla."

Jumping at the sound, Roy twisted around to glance in one of the catacombs forking off from the main prison chamber. "Who's there?" He called, listening anxiously as his voice echoed back.

Silence reigned for what felt like hours. "A'alla."

"Who's the-" He started to call again, when a metal pipe whipped him in the skull from behind.

IV.

When Roy awoke, his head was throbbing and there was a sharp pain in his groin. Opening his eyes, he winced at the light.

Light…

Lifting his head up, ignoring the stab that ran through his neck, he glanced around the prison cell. Torches on the wall had been lit and were now blazing with the souls of every tortured captive that had died here. Pushing himself up and keeping his balance on a rusty chain hanging from the wall, he looked around.

Towards the center of the catacomb, crumpled into an inhuman heep, lay the body of Doctor Marcoh.

"Oh god." Roy cursed, pushing himself off the wall and towards the body. Just like all the others, his clothing had been discarded; his genitals ripped from his pelvis and, as Roy ran his hands over the rough terrain of his torso, every bone in his body had been broken. A bone in his arm pierced the skin and jutted out gracelessly. "Oh god, oh god, oh god…"

"Mustang!" Called someone from the top of the stairwell. Roy looked up at them helplessly. Even in the murky, damp darkness, he knew who she was.

"Riza." He called, voice hoarse. "Oh god, Riza."

She jumped the stairs and landed awkwardly. "What happened here?" She snapped, almost venomously. He knew she didn't mean to be so sharp, but he flinched visibly.

"I... I don't know. I just found him … I passed out and then he was here…" He answered shakily, still crouched by the bloodied form of Marcoh.

As if the surroundings had just sunk in, Hawkeye looked up. As her eyes passed each body, they grew wider and colder. "What happened here?"She repeated, as if he hadn't heard her the first time.

"I don't know!" He said again, unable to look at either her or Marcoh's lifeless eyes. "I don't know."

Standing, she motioned to more soldiers that had suddenly appeared at the archway. "Get the Major out of here, and take care of the corpses. See that they get a proper memorial."

From somewhere in the recesses of the cell, Roy could have sworn he heard a murmuring voice. "A'alla."

TBC. New chapterby next week, I promise.