Do not own FMA. Or BBI. In any way, shape or form.
It was a simple mission, really.
But that wasn't what was making the Colonel depressed. To tell the truth, he didn't know.
"It's the rain," Hughes had said, once. "You rely on fire for fighting, so when it rains, you feel useless."
Back then, that had made sense. But, no, not today. Yes, outside it was dreary and rainy, but something just didn't feel right. Roy Mustang had felt something…wrong the minute he came to the base that morning. The piles of paperwork lay on his desk, but he just didn't feel like doing them. Of course, he never did, but today was different.
So when the Fuhrer called the Colonel to his office, with Lieutenant Hawkeye, he forgot that strange, lingering feeling had left, for a minute.
He and Riza stood just outside the Fuhrer's office, when they exchanged glances. The secretary-what was her name? He could never remember- let them in. The two filed into the tall, wide room, and stood in the center, waiting for instructions. It was silent as the secretary slowly walked to King Bradley, whispering something into his ear. He gave a curt nod, before looking up to the two.
"Colonel Mustang," he began, looking to the Flame Alchemist, "your mission is simple. You and Lieutenant Hawkeye," he gave a quick glance to Riza, "will be investigating a warehouse. We have come to believe criminals are taking shelter in it." He paused, a solemn look on his face.
"Your job is to enter the warehouse, and eliminate anyone you find." His one-eyed gaze fell on the Colonel, again.
"Understood?"
Roy took this seconds pause to think over the situation. There was something suspicious about this mission. Why them? Weren't there units specialized for this kind of stuff?
"Yes sir," the two said in unison, causing the Fuhrer to smile slightly.
"Good. Dismissed."
The two left quickly, but Roy couldn't help but catching the vicious grin on the secretary's face.
Everything went downhill from there.
The warehouse was rundown, and happened to be the farthest one from the military base. Its number, or letter, or label, was too faded to be recognized. Large gashes formed on many different places on it's walls, sending rain the slid across it to splash into it. The door look permanently stuck to the ground, meaning no ways for entrance.
Well, he could just snap his fingers and BOOM, there'd be an entrance. But that'd alert whoever was in there, and it'd be destroying state property.
Or, well, that's what Riza says, and she's usually right about these kinds of things.
The Flame Alchemist looked over the warehouse again. Still no entrance?
"There," she says, pointing to the shadow that lurked at the side of the building. The shadow, being noticed, began to scurry away.
"After it!" The alchemist ordered, not waiting for his companion to follow. He simply shot after it. 'It' disappeared into the wall, but before it did, Roy thought he caught a glimpse of blonde hair. Is that-? His thoughts were quickly interrupted by a gunshot, aimed towards the figure. But that thing had disappeared into the building.
"Colonel, we need to follow it." Hawkeye said, shaking Roy slightly. Snapping from his daze, he entered the same way as that thing; a gash in the side of the building. A small lock of golden hair had caught to the side, and he thought of only one thing: Fullmetal.
However, he saw movement, and looked to the Lieutenant. Another flash, and he beckoned for her to follow that. With a quick nod, she followed it. For a second, the Colonel had a pang of forbidding, but he followed the first sign of movement.
He ended up in a small, dark corner of the warehouse. No gashes to let in rain, or light, just… darkness.
Then, there was silence. No dripping of water. He didn't hear the footsteps (were there any to break the silence?) to alert him. Just the cold, sharp lance against his neck, and the sudden feeling of something behind him, ready to kill him.
"Going somewhere, Colonel? " The women's voice was soft, seductive, almost. The alchemist scowled, lifting his hand, ready to snap.
He gave a slight grin, and with a snap of his fingers-
-Nothing happened.
"Oh, I figured you're be intelligent enough to know your gloves wouldn't work when wet," his captor sad smoothly.
Roy grimaced, trying to think of someway to escape.
Then, he heard a gunshot.
And another.
And another.
And reality came tumbling down, crushing any hope for escape.
A/N: First real chapter! I was gonna write a bit more, but er, long story. Thank you for the review!
More coming once I'm free, which won't be until about Saturday.
This'll mainly be set in Roy's POV, with some Pride!Ed for homunculi stuff.
R & R!
Luna Ligerstripe