Well, you guys voted and majority was for Homunculi, so here you have it. I will let you know right now that besides this chapter, I have the next one done but don't expect an update right away. Just like A Born Sin, I'm going to try and have the next chapter always already written. But with school and homework, I wont be able to keep any promises of a regularly scheduled update time.

But, let's just worry about that when we get there.

I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of the characters.

Warmth

That's what he felt, a sudden burst of warmth all over his body. Oh, how safe it felt, being wrapped in a cocoon of that warm feeling. He wasn't sure where it was coming from, the outside to the inside, or from the inside out. But it was there and he just love the feeling of it so much, relishing in how protected he felt in it.

But just as quickly as it warmed him up, all the way to the core, it was replaced by a freezing coldness. His body felt like it was covered in ice.

Ice, that was a strange word, he knew it, but didn't know how or why he knew it. As he thought, the only thing he could do to try and ignore this unwanted cold feeling, he knew a lot of things. Probably more then most people would. But he didn't know how he knew these things, they were just there with no hint as to how this knowledge got there.

He knew what a memory was, but he couldn't remember anything past the warmth he felt.

He opened his eyes and all he saw at first was darkness. Complete and utter darkness, unable to make out any shapes or light, not even able to make out his own body. But slowly, light began seeping into his sight. Slowly at first, so slowly that it was almost torture, but light was coming and lighting his vision, getting rid of this darkness. And oh, how he wished it would get rid of the cold as well. He was sure his body was a shivering mess.

The light stopped coming, much to his dismay, as it was still dark. But there was enough light for him to see objects, though the color was difficult to make out, especially the darker colors, so he gave up on trying to figure out colors. He would do that when there was more light.

What he saw was strange, yet seemed to belong. There was a large desk, towering over him, which he realized that seemed so tall most likely because he was laying down. The desk was covered with papers, research notes, something he knew but was aware he shouldn't know when he never saw what the papers had on them. The desk also had chemicals, all different kinds, all different ingredients.

There was a bookshelf to his right, it was holding more books then the bookshelf could even fit. there were books stacked at the bottom in front of the shelf even just so they would be near the bookshelf. There were even books strewn around the room. Some open even though the covers were facing up, some were closed. Though it seemed it didn't matter where they were as they were on the floor, chairs, desks, everywhere.

As he looked around to get more familiar with his surroundings, he noticed just how wrong this whole place seemed. It reeked of death, and felt just cold seemed to grow when he looked around, trying to find a window or door, but there were no entrances or exits. That just brought on questions of how he could have gotten in here, how anyone could have gotten in here when there were no ways to enter or exit.

But his gaze went to a sudden halt as he looked as the lump that was a few feet away from him, lying unmoving on the cold hard floor. He looked over the figure, noting down it's characteristics, and saw it was a human, a middle aged male with golden hair and eyes, he was dressed in what he thought was nice clothes.

He was about to walk to him to get a better look but when he was about to move, he noticed the puddle that surrounded the man. Focusing harder to see it better, he felt his throat tighten at the sight of it.

Blood

So much more blood then the man should have let escape his body. He knew the blood belonged to the man lying in front of him because when he looked at him he saw how the man was missing his legs.

He bite back a scream as his mind recognised the smell of blood and it seemed to swallow his senses. He felt bile rise in his throat and had to swallow it back down. This wasn't right, the man shouldn't have been dead. What the hell was he doing down here to lose those limbs? He knew no one cut them off and the man wasn't murdered. But what happened?

He tried to stand up and pushed himself up when he noticed something else that was just wrong.

Finally, for the first time since he woke up, he took a look at himself. He could make out the green skin, the four arms he had, the two pairs legs, and the tail. Crawling, because he didn't know what else to call his walking, to a broken off piece of a mirror on the ground he gave himself a complete look over.

He had two eyes, thankfully, but they were bulging and on either side of his head. Amethyst colored with the vertical pupils of a demon and a vertical mouth. His body wasn't even human! It was a parasitic lizard-like, monster!

No, not a monster.

A Homunculus.

He didn't know how or why he knew that word, but he knew deep inside that it was what he was. It was the only thing that seemed right in this horrid place. But he did know why he knew all of this, because he was a homunculus, because of the Gate and Truth.

That was why the man was dead, he noted, Human Transmutation. And when he looked back to where he woke up at, sure enough there was a transmutation circle. The man was attempting to do the forbidden, and cross into God's domain. He was the result of that taboo.

He was a Homunculus.

He was the only Homunculus, he knew. But he was a homunculus nonetheless, not a monster.

But was there really a difference between the two? He looked like a monster, and if humans saw him, that was what they would think he was, not a homunculus, but a monster. That was how humans acted, they often let their fear and other emotions halt their thinking and make them assume things before thinking things through fully.

They always made mistakes, always. Just like this, his creation was a mistake because this human didn't think all the way through the consequences of playing God.

He didn't know if he was feeling anger or sorrow, and whom these emotions were directed at. But he could deal with that for now.

There was a flash of blue light and he turned around as an entrance was made in the wall and a woman walked in. She was the same age as the man, wearing a dress and had her hair up, the way she held herself showed that she had strong confidence in her own importance.

That woman had used alchemy, she was an alchemist, same as the man who made him.

She walked over to the man, tapped his side with her foot and made a click of distaste before walking to the homunculus. He looked up at her, feeling fear as she gazed at him with her cold, dark eyes, watching him, analysing him, debating whether to kill him off right now or keep him to amuse her.

He wasn't sure which she picked, when she picked up a jar and grabbed him by the tip of the tail, dropping him in the jar, and he really didn't know which he should be hoping for. He didn't know which would be better and he had a dreadful feeling that it wasn't the option that would let him live.

"Hello, Homunculus," She greeted, her tone was gentle and welcoming, but he knew that it was just fake because her eyes showed how much she was disgusted with by his appearance.

He just leaned against the jar, trying to get as much distance as he could between him and her. He didn't know her, but she scared him, he knew that whatever she was, she wasn't good at all.

perhaps he had a strong sixth sense.

She just smiled that fake smile of hers, "I'm sure you have a lot of questions," She said and it was true, he did have a lot of questions, but he didn't want her answering them because he didn't know if he was able to trust her or not, "And we will answer them to the best of our ability," She said.

He noted how she said 'we' meaning she wasn't alone. That wasn't good, if there were more people with her, like her, he didn't know what to expect at all. He already knew she was bad, and whoever she had with her, were probably bad as well.

"Homunculus," She said to get his attention as though he had lost interest in her, "You and I, we are going to be doing great things together for a long time, that will be remembered for an even longer time," She said and she gave a smirk that set off the alarms in his mind that weren't already going off that it wasn't good.

"You can call me Dante," The Alchemist said, walking out of the room.

Dante, he knew that for whatever she had planned, whatever happened, he was going to remember her, remember her voice, her name, her tone, her face, remember everything he can to recognise her by.

She was a human, he was a homunculus, he was going to live longer then her by right of nature. But if only she followed what nature had planned, but neither did. He shouldn't even exist, he went against everything, and she, she avoided every law of nature. She avoided death, putting her soul in a new, fresh body each time she needed a new one. Never letting the Homunculus an inch of freedom outside of his jar.

She also never answered his questions when it came to what she was planning, and her reasons for needing him, she would always just ignore the question and him as though he wasn't even there. She also never called him by anything but Homunculus.

Maybe for him, Homunculus wasn't just a species but also a label. But, he wished to be called something then that unnatural name. He wanted his own name, his own identity.

But, he had nothing of his own, his life wasn't even his own anymore.

But he would try to deal with it and live on, because, what choice did he have now? Dante wouldn't even give him the freedom to die. The only option he had was to deal with it and live, if he displeased his 'master' she would hurt him, something he learned quickly how much he hated it. He just hated pain, and thus hated being hurt.

He didn't even know how long it had been since he was created, after a while time just seemed to disappear, he tried to keep track of time, but he couldn't even tell whenever a new day started. Partly because of he found his body didn't need to sleep as often as a humans and he could go long periods of time without sleep, though his body was becoming more and more exhausted as time went by.

Another was he wasn't even ever able to see the sun, honestly he didn't even remember what the sun, or sky looked like.

Dantes workers would die and she would get new ones, the new ones would always look at him as though he were some insect and laugh, as though he was a freak. He hated that, he hated the feeling of them looking down on him while he was trapped in the accursed jar. He hated the way they looked as though they were superior.

But the one thing he hated the most was that he would never get what he really wanted. The one thing he really craved for was freedom. He would gladly give up his existence just for a minute of freedom, to be able to see the outside world, to be able to escape his jar. Because, it was the honest truth, death was better then his life.

But he was never going to get it.

His whole existence was a taboo, something that Dante never ceased to remind him.

"You're an abomination of nature, you go against every principal of nature. You are an unholy creation of a failed Human Transmutation. You are the result of someone committing a taboo against God. You were created because someone tried to play God. The other humans will laugh at you or try to kill you, your safer here then out there," It was the same old tune she would always sing. Accuse him of being a monster then soothe the wounds by telling him how much better he would be treated with her then out in the world.

He would rather take his chances out there then in here.

She would try and get him with sweet, honey soaked words, saying that he is a blessing because he's so unique. He is a one of a kind, and is special. He is superior to human beings.

He didn't buy any of them, he wasn't a blessing, nor was he superior. But he was unique, something he loathed so much. He hated being the only one of his kind, how he wished for another to be there, to at least be company and a friend.

But he should accept it. His punishment for being created was this for the rest of his life. To be nameless, and friendless, to be this pathetic being longing for freedom but never getting it.

What did you guys think? Was it dull, was it lacking anything?

I'm always up for some constructive criticism.

But, don't be shy, leave a review and tell me what you thought of it.