Laying on its cold metal slab, the corpse began to twitch. Its shakes grew and grew, until with a tremendous indrawn rush of air the body suddenly sat up, apparently corpse no more. Reaching up, the body wonderingly touched its own throat, finding it smooth and unmarked. It knew that it should be broken, damaged. It remembered the final, sickening crunch. The... demons breath hot on her neck.
She shivered. She was naked, in what was obviously a morgue. Swinging her legs over the side, she slipped down onto the cold tiles. Her skin should be goose- pimpled. Why wasn't she cold too? Who was she? Why couldn't she remember? Just these flashes. People. Men, women, children. Faces and places skipped through her mind. She realised she was huddled up against a leg of the table.
Clothes. She wasn't cold, but she felt modesty. An apron on a hook helped, but was awfully draughty. Awfully. A very english word. A mans face rose up in her mind. He was english. Why was she crying?
Pushing out of the morgue, she found an anteroom. Some lockers, a small sink with some soap in the corner. Above the sink was a mirror. She looked much as she remembered herself. Fine features, dark hair, a little to thin. "You should eat my darling". A sudden burst of heartache.
The straps of the apron framed a tattoo in her cleavage. A serpent eating its tail. She certainly didn't remember that being there. Rough hands tracing the rise of her breasts, circling the nipples. The english man. He would have commented if she'd had a tattoo there.
She needed to get out of here, find someone she knew, somewhere safe. More clothes. Trying to get into the lockers must have made more noise than she thought. Footsteps. A hand on her shoulder. Light shining in her eyes. Violence.
Her fingers were covered in blood. Warm. Wet. Looking up from her hands she saw a body on the floor. A security guard. His chest was pierced. Wounds like bullet holes. More footsteps. A young man stood in the doorway. Tight clothes. Long wild spiked hair.
"Lust" he said. "Welcome back".
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Full Metal Alchemist are not owned by me. This story is.
This was a wierd plot bunny in my head. After watching all of Full Metal Alchemist, I'd grown attached to Lust. She was a classy bad guy. Then in the movie, we see Lust and Scar as gypsies. Their alternates. Then I though 'Jenny Calendar was meant to be a gypsy, and she was hot'. Anyway, all that turned into this stream of consciousness: Lust awakens in Jenny Calendars body.
I won't be continuing this, as its all way to hard. Feel free to write more if it grabs you.