Okay, so, first off a warning: This is GRAPHIC! I'm rating it as M to be safe. There's no sex, but there's a lot of graphic blood. I wrote this in a writing frenzy to burn off some bloodlust, so yeah. I'm done with it, but still feel free to R&R, it'll help with future writing endeavors.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or settings used in this fic. Those belong to the amazing Hiromu Arakawa. I do, however, own this horrible little story.
He loomed high over his victim, a dreadful grin stretching his features in a parody of glee. The woman, little more than a girl, whimpered, trying to crawl backwards, hampered by the broken ankle he'd dealt. He stepped on her long skirt, stopping her motion. Her heart achingly beautiful face begged him to stop, not to hurt her. He flexed his wickedly clawed hand. "Please…" She swallowed. "Why… I didn't…" She trailed off, fear stoppering her throat. He leaned close, eyes glittering. "Why? Because you're so beautiful…" She swallowed another pain and fear-filled whimper. "And you don't deserve it. Nobody deserves it." He caressed her face with the claws, drawing a whisper from her skin, followed closely with a trail of crimson. "Don't worry dear…. I don't want you… Those urges are for my brethren… I just don't want you to have it." She shrieked as he whipped his arm back, then down, claws tearing her fine features. The blue eyes, porcelain skin, perfect nose… even her roses of lips. He shreaded them, and laughed at her shrieks.
Envy sat by the rooftop water barrel, idly licking the blood from his fingertips before plunging his arm in, rinsing it of the fluids… and thicker things. He shook the water from his re-formed hand, then went about cleaning away the rest of the spatters. It was always so horribly satisfying, taking it away from them. He wasn't Greed, to want to possess it, nor Lust, to want to own it in the way of lovers… He just didn't want them to have it. It drove him mad. Looks, possessions, talents… What made them special enough to have them? Nothing! So, he took them away. Hamstringing runners… pouring acid down the throat of singers… but some of them…. Some it wasn't so easy. Some simply had that indefinable spark that made them special. Those, he hated. He hated them with a passion. Never once had he been able to play with one of them… At least, not one that he could break. The pip-squeak, yes, he'd toyed, but it only fueled his hatred for those individuals. They didn't DESERVE it! He rose, pacing, an unconscious snarl on his face. But if he couldn't take the spark, couldn't cut it from him… there were others. Others that would hurt him, and satisfy Envy's needs. The suggestion of claws rippled his hand. Yes, that would serve.
It was night again, and cold. It didn't bother him, though. His scant clothing fluttered in the chilly breeze. He hunkered lower against the rooftop. She'd pass this way, and soon. Tonight was the night. He'd studied her, memorized her, hated her for a week. A very long week. And he'd fantasized about this. The pure moment when something worthy would utterly destroyed. A flash of pale hair at the end of the street alerted him. It was almost time. His eyes narrowed to slits as he watched her, jacketed against the cold. She was carrying a heavy-looking bundle. His keen ears detected the quiet clank of metal.
The sadistic grin began to spread ferally across his face. Nearer and nearer she came, until it was time. He dropped from the rooftop, landing quietly right behind her. As she started to turn, he grabbed her cruelly by her long blonde hair, other hand clamping over her mouth as her eyes widened and she tried to scream. "Shhhhh, now… wouldn't do to upset the neighbors… "His grin showed pointy teeth. "Besides, if they try to interrupt, I'll kill them. I don't care about them. You, I don't want to kill."
He began to force her back into his chosen alley, between two old restaurants. Even if she managed to make some noise, there would be no one in the nearby buildings to hear. The alley was a stinking place, scattered with food garbage from the restaurants, the ground slimed with unidentifiable, rotting things. It was perfect. He shoved her, kicking and thrashing, down to the filthy ground, then straddled her hips, bare knees grinding in the filth. He leaned close to her sweating face. "Remember, now… scream and I'll cut your tongue out, Winry Rockbell." He slowly took his hand away from her face, leaving her gasping and heaving for breath. "You… why… I know you! You're one of those monsters!"
He sneered at her. "If I'm a monster, I'm one created by a man. At least I only do what I was made for…" He shivered as the razor claws began form from his hands, the wonderfully jagged, hooked appendages he loved for this work. Her face drained of it's color, what little she had left, as she saw them, as she inhaled to scream. He waggled the longest at her. "Ah ah, remember, your tongue…" She swallowed it, staring at him with the mute terror of a rabbit cornered by a vicious dog. He smiled for her. "Good girl. Now, why not make this easy-!"
He snarled as she swung the bundle of metal, still clutched in her hand, into his head, throwing him to the side and smashing his skull. He heard her desperate feet pound away down the alley, in the few seconds it took for his head to fix itself. He cursed as a ragged scream tore from her throat, summoning help. He'd have to make it fast, now.
He charged after her, false heart racing with the thrill. He caught her halfway to the corner, closing his razored hand on her upper arm. It tore through jacket and into muscle with a satisfying rending sound, ripping a raged scream from her throat.
He threw her down, leaping on top of her, in the middle of the sidewalk, oblivious now to the possibility of observers. "I told you!" He yelled in her face, "What would happen if you screamed!" He tore his claws into her face, ripping through her cheek like layers of wet newspaper. The blood flowed, hot and sharp, steaming in the cold air. She gave a panicked, gargling scream even as he slashed within her mouth, reducing meat to scraps.
She began to choke as the shredded remains of her tongue fell into her throat, followed by the gushing blood. He slammed her onto her stomach, holding her head up by the hair, which caught his claws and began to fall away, matted with blood. "Don't suffocate." She spewed out the bits of flesh and coughed blood from her windpipe, more by reflex than his wish. That was fine, though. Suited his goals just as well.
A couple vicious slashes ruined her pretty good looks, made a ruin of one eye as a digit got hooked in the socket, and needed ripping free. Her writhings grew weaker, more desperate. She'd abandoned screaming. A little late now. He slammed her hands away from her body and onto the pavement, kneeling on her wrists.
This was the climax. The destruction of not only her face, but her talent. He slashed the claws across the backs of her hands, feeling bone scrape and break. Once they were hooked in, he tore them free, reveling in the slight resistance, then snapping of her tendons. She'd never do fine automail work again, this one. The pain roused her again, momentarily, ripping a drowned cry from her ragged throat. The whole thing had taken mere seconds.
People were just emerging from their homes in response to her cries. He rose, bending close to her ear. "Say hello to the Fullmetal for me, Winry dear… oh, you can't… you shouldn't have screamed." He leapt to the rooftops, chortling with sadistic laughter, as people ran to the girl.
His bare feet trod the frosted road as he strode away from Resembool. The gore that coated his arms, face and chest had begun to dry to a sticky, gooey coating. He scraped at it idly, claws momentarily lacerating his own flesh. His eyes held a far away look, still lost in the haze of destruction. This was the first, a new first. He couldn't touch the Fullmetal, couldn't kill him… But he could make him wish he was dead.
So, that's the end, at least for now. I might pick this up again, if I'm feeling particularly vicious, but I make no promises. Please R&R!