Look at me now [sight/smell]
The first thing he can make out is the distinct smell of various chemicals all stacked on top of one another. It isn’t strange; he almost expects it. As his vision melds from black into color, he can see a finger in his vision - his own. He brings a knife across it and gently presses. A line of blood bubbles forth. He looks over at the other boy in the dimly lit room. He realizes this is the boy’s face from his dream. They nod and the blood drips from their fingers onto the pile of stuff inside a circle. He says something to the other boy… the one that looks like a much younger version of Fullmetal.
They step outside the chalk lines and kneel to the ground. He is excited. This was going to be perfect. He focuses on the circle, on the symbols on the ground, on the circle of material in the center. Sparks begin to fly… the ones from his dream! Energy arches across the room, through the material. It begins to build, flinging up toward the ceiling. He grins.
It was going to work! He had done everything perfectly and it was going to work!
Then the colors of the energy shift. He knows it’s wrong. He knows. He looks over at the young Fullmetal, who is saying something. Then, the energy arches, uncontrollably outside the circle. Shadows build… almost as if the have tiny fingers, they tear apart Fullmetal’s arm. He is terrified, plainly, and so is Alchemy. He’s shouting some words and, suddenly, the shadowy arms are attacking him, pulling apart his leg.
It’s a rebound!
He reaches for Fullmetal, fingers stretching, but the boy is torn apart before his eyes as he’s held back by the fingers of darkness. He barely misses the end of Fullmetal’s fingers. Bright light crashes across the room. His vision blurs.
And it’s stark white all around him. There are no smells here, only whiteness. Where the room had smelled of energy and burning materials, there was nothing. He can stand on it, but it seems to extend forever. He looks around, calling something, and then, he turns around.
Before him is a massive door, suspended. Someone speaks because he is turning around, shouting words. And then, where there had been nothing, is a glowing figure. Alchemy asks it something, and his eyes widen in horror. Silently, the door opens behind him, and the fingers drag him backward into it.
He fights it, scared, but can’t and soon the doors shut and he’s in complete darkness. But not for long, as he’s dragged through scenes. Smells assault his nose. He can’t help but keep his eyes open although it hurts with all the information pressing inside it. He sees seasons pass and babies born. He sees himself and he sees people he doesn’t know. War and chemical formulae.
Stop! My head’s going to burst!
And then the fingers begin tearing at his skin.
I’m being torn apart! No! Stop!
A blinding figure appears in his vision as he’s both pushed and is pulling himself forward. His eyes open.
Please sto-
He shouts a word as his hand reaches for the woman’s shape, defying the hands. He’s being torn apart piece by piece, but if he could just reach her…
Suddenly he’s outside again. The glowing figure is there too, he’s shouting and turns around, banging on the door. He knows he wants back in, that information… he survived getting it inside his mind. He knows if he can just get inside once more… He’s telling the figure to do something, open it maybe? He isn’t sure.
But the figure walks up to him, and says something. He’s confused, but soon it becomes painfully obvious. He’s horrified to see his leg disintegrate before his eyes. The glowing figure grins maliciously and says something else.
Blood assaults his nose as the white-place vanishes. He clutches his leg, screaming out. He can’t feel the pain, but the blood and rotting flesh assaults his nose, and he can’t help but feel his stomach churn. He looks around, desperately, only to see empty clothes and shoes.
He drags himself forward, clutching the stump. He’s crying out; he doesn’t know what to do. What had gone wrong? A wheezing breaks his concentration and he looks up. He calls out to the figure in the dark, despair inside him. It simply wheezes, somehow alive and still rotting. He can see it. Arms sticking out in all the wrong places, ribs not inside the body. He scoots back, slamming into the wall.
How had it all gone so wrong? He clutches his head, stomach threatening to spill over. It reaches for him but can’t move and it collapses in a heap, liquid exploding from its mouth. His eyes widen even further.
How had it gone so wrong? It had been perfect! He leans over and the day’s lunch spills onto the floor. He breathes, smelling the bile from a human stomach and half-digested food.
He looks up. He’s whispering something, conviction building inside him. He ties off the stump of a leg and forces a suit of armor to fall over into his reach. He’s desperate. He can’t help it. He pulls himself closer and draws a rune from memory on the inside with his own blood. He’s holding his leg as he whispers something, each word growing louder until he’s shouting at the sky, tears near his eyes.
His hands come together in a clap and press on to the armor. He appears again in the white nothingness, shouting at the glowing man and soon his arm is torn away as well. Instead of returning to the site of the rotted corpse, he blacks out, and soon, the vision fades, alchemical energy and coppery blood still stinging his nose.
They step outside the chalk lines and kneel to the ground. He is excited. This was going to be perfect. He focuses on the circle, on the symbols on the ground, on the circle of material in the center. Sparks begin to fly… the ones from his dream! Energy arches across the room, through the material. It begins to build, flinging up toward the ceiling. He grins.
It was going to work! He had done everything perfectly and it was going to work!
Then the colors of the energy shift. He knows it’s wrong. He knows. He looks over at the young Fullmetal, who is saying something. Then, the energy arches, uncontrollably outside the circle. Shadows build… almost as if the have tiny fingers, they tear apart Fullmetal’s arm. He is terrified, plainly, and so is Alchemy. He’s shouting some words and, suddenly, the shadowy arms are attacking him, pulling apart his leg.
It’s a rebound!
He reaches for Fullmetal, fingers stretching, but the boy is torn apart before his eyes as he’s held back by the fingers of darkness. He barely misses the end of Fullmetal’s fingers. Bright light crashes across the room. His vision blurs.
And it’s stark white all around him. There are no smells here, only whiteness. Where the room had smelled of energy and burning materials, there was nothing. He can stand on it, but it seems to extend forever. He looks around, calling something, and then, he turns around.
Before him is a massive door, suspended. Someone speaks because he is turning around, shouting words. And then, where there had been nothing, is a glowing figure. Alchemy asks it something, and his eyes widen in horror. Silently, the door opens behind him, and the fingers drag him backward into it.
He fights it, scared, but can’t and soon the doors shut and he’s in complete darkness. But not for long, as he’s dragged through scenes. Smells assault his nose. He can’t help but keep his eyes open although it hurts with all the information pressing inside it. He sees seasons pass and babies born. He sees himself and he sees people he doesn’t know. War and chemical formulae.
Stop! My head’s going to burst!
And then the fingers begin tearing at his skin.
I’m being torn apart! No! Stop!
A blinding figure appears in his vision as he’s both pushed and is pulling himself forward. His eyes open.
Please sto-
He shouts a word as his hand reaches for the woman’s shape, defying the hands. He’s being torn apart piece by piece, but if he could just reach her…
Suddenly he’s outside again. The glowing figure is there too, he’s shouting and turns around, banging on the door. He knows he wants back in, that information… he survived getting it inside his mind. He knows if he can just get inside once more… He’s telling the figure to do something, open it maybe? He isn’t sure.
But the figure walks up to him, and says something. He’s confused, but soon it becomes painfully obvious. He’s horrified to see his leg disintegrate before his eyes. The glowing figure grins maliciously and says something else.
Blood assaults his nose as the white-place vanishes. He clutches his leg, screaming out. He can’t feel the pain, but the blood and rotting flesh assaults his nose, and he can’t help but feel his stomach churn. He looks around, desperately, only to see empty clothes and shoes.
He drags himself forward, clutching the stump. He’s crying out; he doesn’t know what to do. What had gone wrong? A wheezing breaks his concentration and he looks up. He calls out to the figure in the dark, despair inside him. It simply wheezes, somehow alive and still rotting. He can see it. Arms sticking out in all the wrong places, ribs not inside the body. He scoots back, slamming into the wall.
How had it all gone so wrong? He clutches his head, stomach threatening to spill over. It reaches for him but can’t move and it collapses in a heap, liquid exploding from its mouth. His eyes widen even further.
How had it gone so wrong? It had been perfect! He leans over and the day’s lunch spills onto the floor. He breathes, smelling the bile from a human stomach and half-digested food.
He looks up. He’s whispering something, conviction building inside him. He ties off the stump of a leg and forces a suit of armor to fall over into his reach. He’s desperate. He can’t help it. He pulls himself closer and draws a rune from memory on the inside with his own blood. He’s holding his leg as he whispers something, each word growing louder until he’s shouting at the sky, tears near his eyes.
His hands come together in a clap and press on to the armor. He appears again in the white nothingness, shouting at the glowing man and soon his arm is torn away as well. Instead of returning to the site of the rotted corpse, he blacks out, and soon, the vision fades, alchemical energy and coppery blood still stinging his nose.