Well, I got bored one night and I couldn't sleep. So I pulled out one of my notebooks and began to write. Originally this was going to be a RoyRiza one-shot, but I didn't see how I could possibly fit Riza into the story. Therefore, I turned it into a Roy drabble. It's basically about when he killed Winry's parents, and how he almost killed himself. Sorry for anyone who didn't know that. But anyway.. It's like his thoughts and such, and what would have probably happened if the other military dog hadn't come in and talked sense into Roy. It's pretty short, which is..obvious <<;
Anyway. Comments- either good or bad- are appreciated. Hope you like it.
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Pools of blood began to form around the two dying bodies. He was watching the life drain from their eyes with the utmost disgust- not at them, but merely at himself for the actions he had just performed. Beads of nervous sweat began to form around his brow, slowly sliding their way down his face. Such a feeling of guilt and self-hatred formed in him at that very moment that he wasn’t so sure how to deal with it. Hell, he didn’t even know how to react to what he had done. Sure, this was the Ishbal war and people’s lives were being stolen left and right, but never from his own hands. Never before had he killed someone, the only damage had had done was leaving someone injured. These people looked so innocent, as if they wouldn’t hurt a soul, much less hold a grudge or express hatred toward anyone. So what had they done to deserve this punishment? The way Roy saw it; the two had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. A word escaped one of their lips, a word he didn’t understand. It could have been someone’s name, a code for something- the list went on and one, never ending.
“Winry.”
All life drained from the two who had resided in the house. Coal-black gaze shifted to a picture standing atop a small table behind the now-dead people. It was a picture containing the two people who had just had their lives taken away from them, along with a young girl with bright ocean-blue eyes and sun-kissed locks that fell to about her shoulders. These two people- who had done absolutely nothing to deserve death- were married and had a child. Then, where exactly, was that child? Roy realized, then and there, that he had just taken away a little girl’s parents. For no reason, too. They weren’t any threat to the military, just two people in the wrong place at the wrong time. The onyx-haired man knew just how dependant a child at such a young age was to their parents. After all, their parents fed them, clothed them, sheltered them, and provided them with absolutely everything. It seemed as if parents waited hand and foot on their children. And he had just taken that away from some poor, innocent, helpless child. The flame alchemist’s stomach twisted into a knot, retching even more guilt and self-hatred upon himself. He couldn’t take this anymore, not after what he had done. It was too much for him to handle, it was going to his head. In all the wrong ways, too. This scene played over and over again in his head, getting to him in such a way that he wanted to do something… He didn’t know what he wanted to do right now, actually. He wasn’t so sure of anything at the moment. Then it hit him. He didn’t think that he deserved to be living, not after what he had done. The way he saw it, this war was just an excuse to go out and kill people- which seemed to bring joy to a few blood-thirsty freaks. How many families had been torn apart? How many people had lost their lives? How much more damage could the military do? Roy thought that they had done enough; he wasn’t sure about the point of this anymore, actually.
His hands trembled as he reached for the very gun that had taken away the loves of these innocent parents. Most people would have walked away by now, and would not have allowed their thoughts to wander this far off, would not have allowed themselves to view this solution as the only way out of something they had gotten too involved in. However, Mustang was not most people and he saw this as his only option. He saw no chance to shine, no chance to gain respect, no chance to achieve his goals. There wasn’t a chance for anything at this point in time- at least, that was how he sat it. The gun was grasped firmly- or as firmly as he could get due to the immense shaking of his hands- and brought up to the bottom of his chin. The cold metal of the guns rim felt off and different against his hot sweaty skin. His pointer finger was against the trigger, but he wasn’t sure if he could pull it. After what seemed to be forever, the onyx-haired man pulled the trigger. Coal-black eyes dilated as he fell to his knees, the gun falling to the floor with a clanking noise. Within the next second, he was laying upon the hard floor of the house- dead, as well as the others residing in the building. Blood had splattered across the medium-sized room the second the trigger had been pulled. Now a pool of blood was gradually growing around his head, eventually reaching the military uniform. The clothing became stained in its wearer’s blood. Anyone who was to come across this house would look upon the fallen flame alchemist, and stare into the lifeless coal-black eyes of Roy Mustang and be left to wonder why- or perhaps how, though that seemed a bit obvious- he had died during the Ishbal war.
Anyway. Comments- either good or bad- are appreciated. Hope you like it.
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Pools of blood began to form around the two dying bodies. He was watching the life drain from their eyes with the utmost disgust- not at them, but merely at himself for the actions he had just performed. Beads of nervous sweat began to form around his brow, slowly sliding their way down his face. Such a feeling of guilt and self-hatred formed in him at that very moment that he wasn’t so sure how to deal with it. Hell, he didn’t even know how to react to what he had done. Sure, this was the Ishbal war and people’s lives were being stolen left and right, but never from his own hands. Never before had he killed someone, the only damage had had done was leaving someone injured. These people looked so innocent, as if they wouldn’t hurt a soul, much less hold a grudge or express hatred toward anyone. So what had they done to deserve this punishment? The way Roy saw it; the two had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. A word escaped one of their lips, a word he didn’t understand. It could have been someone’s name, a code for something- the list went on and one, never ending.
“Winry.”
All life drained from the two who had resided in the house. Coal-black gaze shifted to a picture standing atop a small table behind the now-dead people. It was a picture containing the two people who had just had their lives taken away from them, along with a young girl with bright ocean-blue eyes and sun-kissed locks that fell to about her shoulders. These two people- who had done absolutely nothing to deserve death- were married and had a child. Then, where exactly, was that child? Roy realized, then and there, that he had just taken away a little girl’s parents. For no reason, too. They weren’t any threat to the military, just two people in the wrong place at the wrong time. The onyx-haired man knew just how dependant a child at such a young age was to their parents. After all, their parents fed them, clothed them, sheltered them, and provided them with absolutely everything. It seemed as if parents waited hand and foot on their children. And he had just taken that away from some poor, innocent, helpless child. The flame alchemist’s stomach twisted into a knot, retching even more guilt and self-hatred upon himself. He couldn’t take this anymore, not after what he had done. It was too much for him to handle, it was going to his head. In all the wrong ways, too. This scene played over and over again in his head, getting to him in such a way that he wanted to do something… He didn’t know what he wanted to do right now, actually. He wasn’t so sure of anything at the moment. Then it hit him. He didn’t think that he deserved to be living, not after what he had done. The way he saw it, this war was just an excuse to go out and kill people- which seemed to bring joy to a few blood-thirsty freaks. How many families had been torn apart? How many people had lost their lives? How much more damage could the military do? Roy thought that they had done enough; he wasn’t sure about the point of this anymore, actually.
His hands trembled as he reached for the very gun that had taken away the loves of these innocent parents. Most people would have walked away by now, and would not have allowed their thoughts to wander this far off, would not have allowed themselves to view this solution as the only way out of something they had gotten too involved in. However, Mustang was not most people and he saw this as his only option. He saw no chance to shine, no chance to gain respect, no chance to achieve his goals. There wasn’t a chance for anything at this point in time- at least, that was how he sat it. The gun was grasped firmly- or as firmly as he could get due to the immense shaking of his hands- and brought up to the bottom of his chin. The cold metal of the guns rim felt off and different against his hot sweaty skin. His pointer finger was against the trigger, but he wasn’t sure if he could pull it. After what seemed to be forever, the onyx-haired man pulled the trigger. Coal-black eyes dilated as he fell to his knees, the gun falling to the floor with a clanking noise. Within the next second, he was laying upon the hard floor of the house- dead, as well as the others residing in the building. Blood had splattered across the medium-sized room the second the trigger had been pulled. Now a pool of blood was gradually growing around his head, eventually reaching the military uniform. The clothing became stained in its wearer’s blood. Anyone who was to come across this house would look upon the fallen flame alchemist, and stare into the lifeless coal-black eyes of Roy Mustang and be left to wonder why- or perhaps how, though that seemed a bit obvious- he had died during the Ishbal war.
Community Member
Great job.
A perfect denial.