Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Letter From A Forgotten Soul ❯ Lost Letter ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: Not Mine. Belongs to the wonderful creator of Full Metal Alchemist.

As I sit and write this very moment they are preparing a chamber not so far away for my long-awaited last breath, something I had hoped to put off for another year or so. I am writing this not as a sad attempt of a legacy, memorial, nor as a plea for pity, but as an entreaty to whose so ever shall listen should my parents do what I believe they are planning.

I am, as cliché as it sounds, simply too young to die, though I’ve been ill for so long it’s really no surprise. My name is Wilhelm Edward Chevalier and I am 18. I was an alchemic student under whichever of my parents had time to teach me before the accident. Mercury poisoning is my ailment though I’ve honestly no idea how I acquired it; I suspect my mother’s doing due to the reappearance of my father.

She cares far more for the old bastard than she cares for herself or me; it’s sickening. Hoenhiem Elric comes and goes as he pleases with no regard for Mother or myself and the part that gets me is that he’s clearly the luckiest person on the planet; if anyone else treated Mother like he has, horrible things would have ‘mysteriously’ happened to them, but she doesn’t do a thing to him.

What it is that I believe my parents are doing (apologies, I tend to ramble) is something utterly terrible, more so than the messy business of constructing a Philosopher’s Stone. That is to say: Human Transmutation. I shall very likely be their test subject and become an abhorrent creature in the name of scientific advancement. I shan’t pretend they will try to revive me out of love. I have always been an inconvenience to them and an encumbrance to their adored oeuvre. I have never minded save that I now fear for my soul.

I plead for any who read this to please, should my worse fear come to pass and I become a homunculus or some other horror, rid this world of me. Do not laugh at this letter. You cannot understand how one such as me whose breath is weak and fears death, whose life is filled with dreams of life and hellacious remedies that do only harm to write this, to not only reject , but terminate a second chance. I want only to live, but this is something that should not be granted the way my parents scheme it.

With the child of Beatrice Dante Chevalier and Hoenhiem Elric’s everlasting gratitude.

Wilhelm Edward Chevalier