It was like a bomb had gone off in his chest. For his first few days (or maybe it was years, or maybe seconds) it had been all he could think about. He just lay on the floor and stared up at the great grey something above him and let the bitter tears of self-pity roll down his face.

Neither heaven nor hell? He wasn't sure but he supposed this was it. For a while he thought that he had just been left to lie lonely forever there. But of course he was wrong. It wasn't long before they found him.

"Light! Light!" Her familiar voice grated on his ears and for the first time in days (years? seconds?) he pushed himself upright.

She rounded what he supposed was a corner (everything looked rather the same) and there were two others sprinting at her heels. He recoiled in horror.

Misa Amane's pretty face was smashed in, her broken limbs pumping and bending as she ran to him. There was a sort of mouth left around the gore that was pulled into a grotesque smile.

"Finally I found you! This must be where the Death Note users go when they die! Oh, I'm dead by the way. Suicide!" Misa chirped. He could not disguise his disgust although he did feel a small twang of pity for the pathetic creature.

"Out of my way! He's mine! Light…" Purred the second figure. He squinted, trying to discern whom it was. The body was obviously female but the flesh was raw and rubbed off. There was no hair and only a semblance of a face.

But of course, Takada. He felt sick.

Without speaking he turned to the third figure, instantly recognizable. Teru Mikami, his eyes still burning with that possessed adoration. There was a gaping hole in his middle.

"God." Mikami moaned. "God."

He said nothing but clutched at his chest.

The days (or years or seconds) slipped by slowly and he became certain that there were no worse people to be spending eternity with.

Misa and Takada never stopped their bickering, causing his head to ache and the burning in his chest to intensify.

Mikami seemed as though he would be less difficult but of course he was. Every second he needed him, touching him, calling him, and panting his name.

Of course there was the other one. He didn't come and sit with them, just stood in the shadows (yet how could there be shadows?) and waited. Higuchi, that was his name. The Yotsuba scapegoat. Kyosuke Higuchi, he had killed him. So he supposed it was sort of obvious why he never came to sit with them.

He sort of wished he would. It would be better company.

Sometimes he would grow angry and tears would come dangerously close to streaking down his cold cheeks again. Damn it all, he had been so close. Yet here he was, with nothing to show. No one could say he had gotten what he deserved could they? No one deserved this.

But then again, he had brought this upon himself hadn't he? Choose your followers wisely, he cursed.

"Light pay attention! Which on of us is prettier?" Misa placed a dangling hand on her hip and pouted a shredded half-lip. He shivered and looked away.

"Why won't you talk Light? We're still your followers! Why won't you speak to us?" Takada's voice was as raw as her face.

"God." Mikami whimpered and pawed at his feet. "God."

He tried to shut it out, closing off those days (years-seconds). He had never wanted this. He didn't want this. He wanted to go home.

He wished and wished that his father had written a name down, any name! He didn't care if it had been Mello's, he just wanted his father. He wanted someone.

"Heaven nor Hell." He finally chuckled darkly, his fallen angel face still splattered with blood. "I wanted to make my own heaven, but I've made my own hell."