a short story i decided to do. btw guys can you listen to mad world by gary jules while reading this. it just adds a real atmosphere to it.
He ran. He ran round corner after corner. He was an alchemist: A prodigy, a life saver.
He was scared. He was afraid. He was helpless. His hands were numb as if they were the auto mail limbs he knew he deserved, yet his hands were flesh and bone. The rain pounded of his back and on to the floor. His white coat gave him no help in escaping the man. He watched him appear round the corner, dragging another corpse. He was wanted dead. Had the emissary of death finally come for him? Were his sins so great that this man thought it was his duty? He had never listened to the laws of human transmutation. He brought people back to life and gave them new identities. He made families happy. How was that a sin? He had been called a god. He had been called the real alchemist. He had been welcomed. But now...was this his price? He slipped on a loose jetty tile and fell on his face. He got up, the blood running from his mouth and his nose shocked him. He quivered in fear and rolled up into a ball on the floor and waited for the scared man to come. He felt the trauma, the fear. It was too much. He looked up at the man. “WHY. WHAT DID I DO?” he asked. “I HELPED PEOPLE! I CAN HELP YOU TOO!” he exclaimed. “THEY CALLED ME A GOD!” he wept. He got on to his knees and began to cry even more. “JUST LET ME LIVE. PLEASE” he screamed. The man looked at him. And spoke. “You are no god to me. You alchemists are all scum” he told him before pulling the boy up. “I’ll give you an easy death and send you to the real god” he told him as he placed his hand on the boy’s chest. He watched the boy’s eyes go hollow as he fell of the man. He turned from the corpse and walked away. He was the emissary. But he wondered why the boy was called a god. He left it down to his faith in ishbala to decide who was and wasn’t a god.
Scar surely wasn’t anyway