Disclaimer: Full Metal Alchemist is a great and noble enterprise. Maybe that is why I own none of it.
A/N: Now revised and edited. The rest of the series will soon follow!
The gun clattered noisily to the floor. Riza had dropped it without hesitation. It felt very strange to her that she might ever have needed to drop a gun, but the damage the creature sustained was practically nothing. She had figured that it would not help her against this homunculus. That and she had other things on her mind. Envy didn't even need the handcuffs to restrain her; his own brute strength was more than enough. She clawed feebly at Envy's hands until he finally let go, allowing her to fall hard against the wall. She slumped over soundlessly, trying very hard to mentally regroup. Envy smiled expertly and without a word transformed into Fuhrer King Bradley, in all his uniformed glory. Riza looked up, a little unnerved at what his ultimate purpose could be.
The Fuhrer took two steps closer to Riza, closing in and destroying the space between them. He lifted her up by her underarms and threw her across the room. Her back slammed into the headboard of the mahogany bed. She screamed out in pure agony. To Riza's horror, she heard the unnerving crack of her back snapping back into place after she landed. She slid down onto the bed in utter anguish, her back writhing against the sheets. Envy, still impersonating the Fuhrer, stalked over to her, his eyes wide with unrestricted lust. Riza told herself to be strong.
"I just have to concentrate at the situation at hand. If I can somehow run him through with something sharp, that would set him back for a few minutes. Then maybe I could find a way out of here," she thought, using all her battle training to ignore the excruciating pain the ruthlessly pounded against her back.
But before she could set any of this into action, she felt the Fuhrer's simulated body on top of her. He pulled her head upwards into an uncomfortable angle. She winced at the extra pressure on her neck and at the proximity of her attacker. "What's the matter Riza? I thought you like to get pleasure from men in power?" Her eyes went wide and she struggled beneath him. He pulled her into a bruising and dominating kiss. She did everything in her power to drive him off: she bit his tongue, tried to close her mouth, and did her best to shove him off of her. He just seemed more excited by her unfailingly resistant behavior. She was so preoccupied in keeping him from enjoying her mouth that she didn't notice when her grabbed her left leg with both hands, until he twisted. She screamed into his mouth, which was just what he was waiting for. "You are so beautiful when you scream," he breathed, just loud enough for her to hear. She shuddered. Her leg throbbed mercilessly; it was more than likely broken in more than one place.
"How far can a bird fly without its wing?" Envy taunted, relenting his assault on her battered limbs. He moved off the bed and slunk over to the metal chair. He unhooked the pair of handcuffs from the chair. " A lot less than it can in if it's in a cage." Riza did her very best not to think about what that meant. This was all just a nightmare. But she realized that she must be strong. She would be defiant until the very end.
"The very end might not be far off. Once Roy has served his purpose I am as good as dead."
All the same, Riza had always carried herself with honorable intensity. She was determined not to lose that to some sicko. She realized that he seemed to be enjoying her pain much more than he enjoyed kissing her. Invading her body seemed to get him off. Riza knew that she had to be strong if she were to ever survive this encounter with her will intact. By the time the Fuhrer had her handcuffed to the bed, she had resolved to not be broken under any circumstances. This was not going to be Riza's first time anyway.
"My first time was when Havoc got me drunk in the stockroom when we were just newly recruited for the army," she reassured herself silently. The pain wasn't that bad. But maybe it was only because I was in a drunken haze." Clearing all the pessimistic thoughts from her head, she tried to steady herself for the coming onslaught. She could certainly deal with being used by the Fuhrer.
If only it had been that simple. Envy had decided that taking the form of the Fuhrer had not disturbed Riza enough. She had not caved under his more than subtle manipulation. His body flashed until it reassembled in the outward appearance of Maes Hughes. Riza's control collapsed into a pile at her feet. Before her stood the once noble figure of her best friend, the star intelligence agent and family man Maes. "You see, Miss Hawkeye (the "Miss" was forced out of his mouth, much like chewing tobacco is forced out of the mouths of cowboys) I feed off your pain and heartbreak. I am, one could say, envious of your happiness. I will enjoy stripping away all of your joy into little pieces." Riza's eyes were wide with shock and she was more than momentarily disoriented. Here stood the man who had helped her in her darkest hours. Of course it was a twisted imitation, for the look on his face was nothing like that which Maes wore during his life. Hughes laid down next to her on the king sized bed. He stroked her cheek and played with the long hair that cascaded down her shoulder. She didn't realize that her hair was undone until this moment, but it need not matter now. She shivered with fear, more at this than anything else that had happened so far. He traced her jawline in silence. She found this more disturbing than the harsh, jagged actions of the Fuhrer.
"Riza," the impersonator whispered softly. He softly kissed his way across her collarbone. She tried struggle but was disarmed by his chartreuse gaze. He stroked her back reassuringly, like a mother would to comfort her child. Riza tried to fight this unnatural feeling of calm. She knew that this was not her Maes, the Maes that lived to assist his friends and love his family. She tried to focus on his earlier statements about wanting to hurt her, but something deep inside told her it didn't matter anymore. Maybe it was his sudden death and unexplained murder that had left her with feelings of abandonment.
"Riza, I need you," Hughes moaned softly. She cared for Maes a great deal, but it was in the platonic way that didn't cross over like this. But this vulnerability, however false it might be, was slowly killing her heart. Envy sensed his advantage and moved in steadily. He gently kissed her on the lips. His soft hands stroked her upper back, slowly moving towards their goal, her bra's clasp. The clasp came undone and the bra fell gently to the floor. The imposter caressed her delicate breasts. Her breath caught in her throat. It had been so long since she had been touched like this. It would be so easy to stay like this forever, to fall under this blanket of security, as false as it might be. But something about the gentle pressure was troubling to her. His hands were freezing. Her blood turned to ice in an instant. This was sick. "Maes Hughes is dead! He's lying in his grave right now!" she yelled in torment. He had deceived her thus far, but his icy hands were all it took for her to realize the Maes's hands would be cold, in his coffin. And that she was handcuffed to a bed in the lair of the most insane of the homunculi. "Yes my dear, he is. And it was I that put him there. I killed Maes Hughes."