Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Committee's Findings ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

A (very brief) Author's Note: No- you're not getting a skit, or some witty remark or a shout out to reviewers. I am here to say two- and only two- things.

A)that this fiction is for Nikolle and that I wish her a happy- extremely extremely belated- birthday. And

B) I am at a total loss for a title and am open to suggestions (I am not calling it the monstrosity I have it set up as currently.)

Investigative Committee's Findings on the M. Hughes Incident As Presented to the Honourable R. Mustang

A Reconstructive Narrative

J.S.F.

Note on Time of Occurrence

It is estimated that it was late June when the ten year-old Elysia Hughes attempted to resurrect her father, the late officer Maes Hughes. Why precisely Elysia thought she could succeed is entirely a mystery. She was four at the time her father died- her mother had been committed to asylum with schizophrenia some three years prior to her unsuccessful attempt at resurrecting her father and her memories of him must have been distant at best- at worst she was going off of photographs and what her mother had told her. With this in consideration it is of little surprise the transmutation went so awry. Elysia alone was present at the attempt but she tells us it was late at night and performed in the attic of the orphanage she had been taken into after her mother was committed. The following is a reconstruction of the Hughes incident from beginning to end. Practical implications of these events will be addressed in a later volume.

Narrative

The rain thumped steadily- or as steadily as heavy rain gets - against the four-squared windowpane that rested a few feet beneath a gable in the roof. But all that was unimportant. Of less significance were the mice and cockroaches at home in the woodwork and dark corners of the orphanage's attic. More trivial still was the creaking and groaning of old rotted timbers that- when weight was put upon- bent as if at any moment they would cave in and break (which was well possible.)

The only thing of importance in the room was a small girl and a chalked circle with carefully drawn patterns in concentric rings. On the circle was piled an assortment of household products. An antacid Ca(OH)2 fertilizer (NH4)3PO4 and a pantheon of other items including old rusted tools Fe2O3 and shaving creams C2F4Cl2 and C2F5Cl

On a piece of paper was a drawing of something akin to a spiderweb, with lines here and there labeled “dendrites” and “axons.” The girl looked at the paper and grinned. “Fuck the soul bullshit.”

And onto the ground flew her hands. The circle began to glow and on it the shaving creams and antacids began to rearrange themselves. Within moments the girl had created a flawless human body from the materials.

Except it was dead.

Without movement. Completely and utterly lifeless.

The girl looked at the body, cussed and then cussed again. Souls existed. It was the only thing that could possibly have gone wrong in the procedure. All of her efforts had fallen apart. They were as dead as the body in front of her. She had guessed wrong.

This knowledge did not keep Elysia down for long. If souls did exist and were, in fact, needed to bring people back she simply would have to find a way to create an artificial one. Elysia had little available to serve as a “soul” perhaps blood- as some sort of symbolic gesture- would do.

It was worth a try, that wasn't much else around and, having no better ideas, Elysia bit down on her fingernail and jerked her head upwards- tearing the clipped nail off along with the base. Blood seeped out and took the place of the nail. She squeezed out a few drops and let them fall onto the transmutation circle, then surveyed the markings on the circle. Elysia crossed her fingers and tried again.

The circle was engulfed in light; the temperature in the room dropped and Elysia's skin grew goosebumps. There were slight twitches in Hughes' body, fingers operating randomly, and the movement then traveling up the arms and increasing into convulsions. More and more movement manifested in Hughes and soon the entire body lay writhing on the floor. Arms beat against the ground, the neck turned from side to side, the jaw hung loose.

Elysia took a step back, watching as the process went to completion. The thrashing continued to become more violent and she closed her eyes in fear. Below, in the bedroom of some ten other orphans, a group of children- the occupants and some of their friends- heard the movements and screams of the revived corpse. The group huddled up against the wall in fright and, after the sound had continued for some time, began to resume their game of “go fish.” The child in the lead was about to ask if the boy to his right had any tens when Hughes' head broke through the floor boards and- scraped and bloodied, with splinters from the broken boards marring most of his face- smiled at the boys.

What precisely Elysia intended to do at this point is uncertain, however for some reason she approached her “father” and upon doing so found an enormous pain pulse through her arm. She tried to get closer still with the same result. Elysia looked down on her arm and saw that blood was being drawn to Hughes by some invisible- and strengthening- force. Blood continued to fly into the air in a concentrated stream as Elysia looked on in horror. With a lack of blood she became weak and fell to the floor. Still conscious she could now see the veins and arteries in her arm uprooting themselves and breaking free of the skin.

Another board snapped and, pushing Hughes' head forward, his neck snapped- ending the transmutation.

In Elysia's last moments of consciousness she saw blood pour into the grooves left by the now missing veins, creating a black-red lattice shining in the moonlight.

--------“What the hell were you thinking?” Brigadier-General Riza Hawkeye glared across the bed at Elysia, her right arm connected to what seemed to be miles and miles of plastic tubing. She had been comatose for several weeks, which was moderately convenient given that the hospital staff had performed multiple surgeries that would otherwise have required anesthesia.

“I'm sorry Ri-“

Hawkeye glared.

“-General.”

Riza's expression softened. Hawkeye had, through her side-work in social services become somewhat of a godmother to Elysia- if only in the very loosest sense.

“Well, you're forgiven.”

“I'm what?”

“Forgiven.”

Elysia stared. “Forgiven? Well, this is new- what on earth caused you to forgive me this time?”

Hawkeye closed her eyes. “You aren't the only one who's made this mistake- not by a long shot. Not many people consider human alchemy because of the associated taboo- but once they do get to thinking it, it seems they never find a reason not to until they try it for themselves. Then they understand.”

Elysia hung her head. All she could think to do was apologize again. “I really am sorry.”

“And I really am forgiving you.”

“So…what now? With their roof and most of the second floor turned into rubble I have the feeling the orphanage won't be letting me back in, and of course there's this.” She motioned to her veinless arm.

“The first question we'll figure out after we deal with the second. Now, about your arm- have you ever considered automail?”

“Not really, never had reason to.”

“Well I think I can give you a reference, she's a nice lady and top-notch mechanic- I met her through a colleague of mine, he's really rather fond of her.” The way Hawkeye said “fond” gave the distinct impression that her colleague wasn't just fond of the mechanic because of good service. Elysia realized that she had just witnessed the rare instance of Riza showing a slight habit of playing matchmaker- elusive proof Riza wasn't an android. “So what do you say?”

“Where are they?”

“They're currently abroad. By the time you get to their residence though chances are they'll be back. I'll arrange for train tickets, meeting them may do you some good- eccentricities aside.”

“Eccentricities?” Elysia grew skeptical and in her head ran the old sci-fi catch phrase: `Danger, danger Dr. Smith!'

“Just don't say anything about his height.”