Phantasmagoria
Chapter 1; Exchange
Bane; "Okay! I changed the name! It is now; Phantasmagoria, which is AN ACTUAL WORD. However, it is my word. And it is not to be stolen. It means 'a series of events or characters in a dream'. Pretty, eh?" -purrs-
Bane; "I'll have you know that I've had this planned for a month now." -.-' "It wasn't inspired by anything on the show."
A; "Oh, stuff it already."
Bane; "Anyway, I'll update only if I receive some reaction to this short 'prologue'."
A; "Yeah, and as for warnings; mild language, gritty angst (big surprise), character death, and severely morbid situations."
Bane; "But no autopsey…"
-anonymous cheers-
Bane; 0.o
A; -sadistic smirk-
Bane; -in desperate retaliation attempt- "But no lemons."
-curtains close before any real brutality is revealed-
Crimson pooled beneath his crumpled form. He had done it; achieved the impossible. But somehow, the victory was lost on the agony-ridden being. He'd never live to see his recreation adapt once again to his own real world. Touch, taste, warmth, love, and bittersweet pain. That was the way of it; equivilant bullshit, once again. He'd won it, but he'd lost the privelege to really watch it. Alchemy's basic law was like telling a child she'd won a cookie, but making her keep it in a box until it molded over.
The solitary ache in his stomach was spreading now, finding nerve endings and reviving dis-connected veins. The blood would begin fully pumping again, but the snapped vessels would drown his body in toxins and unwanted fluid. What a perfect way to end his complete and utterly satisfying life. But it was his own damn fault for tampering with the science.
It would be hours before the figure beside him would wake. He hadn't the strength, nor the heart to leave any note by way of consolation. The boy would find his body, and would find his own explanation.
And life, he mused in silence as his last passing thoughts grew dim, will go on…