Author's Note: Hello! This is the first chapter of my first ever Death Note fanfiction ) I've already planned out roughly what the plot will be, so it's simply a case of writing it, and collaborating with my lifesaver of a beta-reader (Forbiddensoul562!) to make it into something remotely readable. Thanks Forbiddensou!

This is set in the period of time between the Victorian Era and Industrial Age. Quite wide, I know, but history isn't my best subject, so I'm giving myself space lest I make an error unawares XD

I hope you enjoy reading it, and, if you have any comments whatsoever, let me know in a review -all feedback is appreciated!

Also, bear in mind that I represent thought in italics: 'I'm a thought, yay!'

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, nor any of the characters or concepts associated with it.

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Midnight:

Chapter 1: Arrival

"He's dead…"

The carriage trundled through the narrow, cobbled streets of Winchester, taking Near to his Uncle's home.

Near had left his own home only this afternoon, despite having never wanted to leave. He'd stayed in his father's room for as long as he could, clinging to his father's bedsheets, wishing and begging that he'd come back.

But to no avail, it was impossible.

When he'd realised this, he just let go and slumped on the floor, barely holding on to his threadbare teddy – a present from his parents when he was just an infant.

They'd carried him into the carriage; some of them were crying – the maid, Mrs. Smith, had cried the most, and the gardener, Mr. Long, had simply stared at Near blankly. Near had stared back.

Finally, they had truly bid him goodbye, before closing the doors. They'd closed with a metallic click – like the click of a coffin lid, closing on a corpse for all eternity.

It had only been a few hours ago at most, but it felt more like days since he'd left.

Near was shaking, though he barely felt whatever baleful cold was causing his body to react the way it was. His head lolled from side to side as the carriage turned corner after corner, further distorting his already blurry image of the streets as they swam past the carriage window.

He clutched the teddy bear tightly against his pyjamas, brought his left leg up to his chest, and cried. His cries became sobs, his body shook, and his knuckles whitened under the strength of his grip on the bear.

"Why!? Why did you have to fall ill!? Father… please…"

He dug his fingers into his knee with his free hand, fumbling for his words, "Please don't go… come back… I don't…I'm scared… please…"

Near brought his other knee up and huddled himself into a ball – his white hair fell down in front of his face and obscuring his vision of everything but his own chest. His sobs finally dwindled into a heavy sigh. He felt so tired… he didn't even have the energy to cry anymore.

Near then realised that he wasn't sure where they were now; he only knew he was going to stay with his Uncle in Winchester.

The carriage began to slow down.

'Why are we slowing down? Are we at a crossing or a populated place? …At 8pm…?' Near wondered.

The horse-driven vehicle abruptly halted; he heard the driver climb down from the front of the carriage.

Near felt his body stiffen. He'd known that actually going into this foreign dwelling place would be difficult, but, seemingly, he'd underestimated just how difficult it was going to be.

The driver opened the door; the shadowed streets of Winchester stared at him hungrily. Near hesitated, and then resignedly shuffled out and onto the pathway – he could feel the iciness of the cobbles through his white socks.

The white-haired boy stared at the enourmous, imposing entryway before him, staring in particular at the large bronze lion head that was the knocker. Eventually, the driver walked up to Near, lifted the knocker, and rapped it against the gnarled wooden door.

Within moments it swung open soundlessly; a low voice ushered them in, "Welcome, I've been expecting you."

They walked into the lobby; the polished floors reflected their forms like a mirror. Near heard the door close softly behind them, and then a young man walked into his field of vision.

"Greetings Mr. Wammy, the other housekeepers at my brother's residence informed me of your arrival. I am Light Yagami." Light extended his hand to the elderly driver. Wammy placed his hand in Light's and they shook hands, Light gripped Wammy's hand so tightly that the older gentleman felt it for a few seconds afterward.

"I'm sorry to hear of my brother's death… I know that I am his son's guardian now," he looked down at Near, his mud-brown eyes shone like those of a puppet, and his expression looked entirely alien, as if it had been painted or sewn onto his face, "you're Near, right?"

Near nodded, twirling a lock of white hair between his fingers.

"I'm your Uncle, I'm sure your father has mentioned me before."

He held his hand out to Near, but the boy just stared at it, as it if were a venomous snake he was proffering instead of an open hand.

He slowly retracted his hand, "You'll feel welcome here, Near, don't worry."

Near frowned mentally, 'I doubt that 'welcome' will be among the feelings I have whilst I am trapped in this place.'

Light's smile left his face as suddenly as it had appeared; he turned to face Wammy, "How are you feeling, Mr. Wammy?"

The carriage driver looked down at Near, his face creased in concern.

"Awful, Mr. Yagami sir, absolutely awful; Aiko Yagami was a great friend of mine." Wammy replied, barely able to conceal the sadness that afflicted him.

Light gave a small nod in consolation. There was a brief pause, then Wammy sighed, running a hand through his grey hair.

"…Well," Mr. Wammy began, kneeling down, "Will you be okay here, Near?" He tried in vain to gain some kind of understanding from Near's blank expression.

Near gave a small nod, "You have no reason to be concerned Mr. Wammy, I should be fine here."

A ghost of a frown passed over Wammy's lined and bespectacled face.

"All right… then I shall stay the night with a friend, and leave for London first thing tomorrow morning."

A small smile crossed Light's lips, "Okay then Mr. Wammy, goodbye. I wish you all the best."

Light extended his hand yet again –this time so vigorously that Near could see the veins on Mr. Wammy's arm bulge; then Wammy was at the door waving. "Goodbye Near, I shall come to visit you sometime."

"I would like that Mr. Wammy, thank you. Goodbye." Near wearily lifted his pale hand to wave in return. Then the door was closed, and Near was alone in the cavernous lobby with his uncle, Light Yagami.

Light's mouth curved in a smile, "Shall I show you your room, Near?"

Near nodded, and Light strode up the wide, grand staircase.

Near walked slowly behind him, wary of any hidden figures in the places the lamplight didn't reach. He looked upwards, and his eyes were drawn instantly to the clock on the wall in front of him. It was enormous – covering almost the whole wall; it was a mass of interwoven gold and bronze in the form of a burning sun, and he could hear its ticking even before he reached the top of the stairs where it rested.

Light reached the top and turned left; he motioned for Near to follow him. Near tried to walk a bit faster, but only succeeded in dragging his feet across the floor more noisily.

He looked over the balcony – the drop to the lobby floor seemed quite large from this height. He jerked his head in the other direction, looking instead at a shadowy staircase leading up into what he supposed was the attic.

He preferred the balcony.

Light had already reached his room; he held the door open, inviting Near in. Near was struck with a sudden apprehension; he didn't want to go in there, maybe Light was leading him right into the jowls of the beast – Near recalled the disturbing falseness in Light's features.

'Oh dear God why did I tell Mr. Wammy that I was okay? I'm not okay… come back Mr. Wammy, don't leave me here, please don't leave me here!'

He was afraid to move, but he kept moving anyway, he couldn't stop moving; every place in the manor seemed dangerous, every sound, every sight, every shadow… –at least in a room of his own he could lock most of the house out.

But he'd also be locking himself in.

Near paused in front of Light and looked into the room. It was very well lit – three oil lamps were placed around the room -including one on his bedside table, leaving very little in shadow. The bed was big enough for two people, and the floral covers looked particularly soft and warm.

A smile cut across Light's face once more, "Will this be okay?"

Near looked into the room again – it seemed so perfect for him, and yet, he still couldn't shake off the feeling that he was in some kind of danger. "Yes, thank you Uncle."

Near took one step forward, hesitated, and then walked all the way in; half expecting Light to lock him in the room with whatever demons lurked underneath its comfortable guise.

Light slowly closed the door, walking down the stairs in the same audibly confident fashion that he had done when he'd walked up them.

Near felt somewhat more comfortable in the slightly smaller space. The bed looked particularly inviting.

'Inviting like a bloody, gaping maw, waiting for me to get close so that it can rend my flesh from my body.'

Near whimpered at the thought, backing away from the bed and walking into something hard.

"Ah! Get away from me! Get away!" He clutched his head in fear as jumped forward, away from whatever had just touched him. He dragged his body around to face whatever he had walked into. It had been a chair.

'What am I doing?' Near released his head. 'I've not been attacked… and I was jumping away from a piece of furniture.'

He looked around him then finally sighed and walked over to the bed; he sat down with one foot on the bed, and the other hanging off of it.

'I'm not lying down on this thing yet… if I do; they could attack me…but…Who is 'they'?'

Near thought about this for a moment, and realised that he actually didn't know who 'they' were.

' …What state of mind have I been reduced to? What is wrong with me?'

'I just want to rest…I wish Mr. Wammy were here. I could count on him to protect me whilst I slept.'

Quillish Wammy had been the servant at Near's household for many years. But, for a few months during Near's father's illness, Quillish had been away. Near had meant to ask him where he had been, but the circumstances got in the way of him doing so.

'Mr. Wammy and my father were the only people I felt safe around… father…' Near clutched the teddy bear to his chest.

'But, rationally, there isn't anything here that can attack me; demons don't exist.'

'That's true.'

'Yes… but, then, why do my emotions insist upon their existence…?' Near shook his head, he wasn't thinking clearly tonight.

'I should rest…'

'-I'm not lying down. I can't-'

'-But I must, so I shall.'

He'd never felt so tense before in his life; every muscle in his body was screaming. He punched the bed out of sheer nervous energy.

That was it, he'd had enough of the nonsense his mind had decided to fill itself with. He flung himself down onto the bed, holding his breath and digging his fingers into the covers, ready to be eaten alive by the being that dwells in the darkest corners of existence.

He breathed out. The being didn't bite him.

'I need to sleep.'

Near crawled over to the pillows and wriggled under the covers. The soft, warm layers enveloped his body, and, for the first time in days, he felt at peace. He supposed that a child would feel this way in its mother's arms. He quickly pushed that thought from his mind, and took a few deep breaths. He nuzzled his head into the thick pillow and relaxed.

Within a few minutes, he was fast asleep.

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A/N: Thanks for reading my fanfiction! I bring in the rest of the characters mentioned in the summary in the next chapter -which is the beginning of the main section of the story.

I hope you've enjoyed reading Midnight thus far ) and I hope you keep on reading - this first chapter is only the tip of the iceberg!

Thanks again,

-Insanitoon