A/N: I'm quite happy with this oneshot, which was written entirely to The Birthday Massacre's Happy Birthday, which I don't own. This took me about three days to complete and was quite easy. Is an AU songfic, and a horror one at that, heh.
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note.
I think my friend said I hear footsteps
Monsters were coming, or so it seemed. It didn't really matter; the point was, something was chasing after them. Or maybe nothing was. Maybe someone's ears were failing them entirely, but the other's instincts were tell them to run, so they did. The two ran long distances, perhaps miles, but the footsteps were still right behind them. It could be that one was only hearing the pounding of the other's feet, crunching dead leaves and snapping twigs as they ran. But they still needed to get away. The shorter and older turned to the taller and younger, just to make sure he was there. Of course he was there; he wouldn't dare to leave his friend behind. The two of them kept running through the woods, away from the mansion.
I wore my black and white dress to the birthday massacre, birthday massacre, birthday
Mello wore a dress that night, a beautiful, strapless white dress that fluffed around the knees, the white one with a lace band around the middle, a laced edge, just too much lace, with lace floral designs, was lovely on him. It clung to his feminine build just right, and accentuated his curves. Matt loved it on him, wanted to touch him, to hold Mello close to his chest as they danced to an achingly beautiful melody. Tonight, however, there were no melodies to dance to, and the dress was not hugging Mello tightly. Tonight, the only music was the pounding of their feet as they continued on their path, and Mello's dress flailed wildly around.
I wore my black and white dress
Mello was stunning in his dress, though, absolutely perfect, even while running. The keeper of the mansion had an excellent taste and had chosen right.
I think my friend said stick it in the back of her head
The two kept running until they were out of breath and their knees gave out, and within seconds they realized that they were back where they started. They had merely run in circles, and the footsteps were farther away. Guns were at hand, but the absence of the leather threw occurrences out of balance. Familiarity vanished, Mello was unsure of what to do. His leather brought on confidence, and in this dress, he was susceptible to vulnerability. But whether he was comfortable with the situation at hand or not was not the point; he had to do it, so he did it.
I think my friend said two of them are sisters
They could have been sisters, quite possibly; they were often mistaken for sisters. After tonight, people would whisper, "The sisters did it; they're the ones," but they would be mistaken. Mello and Matt were more like courtesans, each belonging to the other, and the people would then whisper, "The lovers were the ones," and some things would be made right, but not all; not all sins.
I'm a murder tramp, birthday boy, I think I said
Not all sins were to be washed away; at least that was Mello's belief. Through justification he convinced himself that what he had done that night was right. But the word 'murderer' kept running through his mind, and his pulse rate was higher and his blood ran cold.
I'm gonna bash them in, bash them in, I think he said
And Mello was hearing a strange entity chanting of its forthcoming actions, and the voice sounded just like Matt's, but he wasn't too sure. Was Matt the one he had been running from, or was Matt's footsteps the only ones he had heard just hours before his sin? Mello was uncertain, and he wasn't fond of uncertainty. Yet, Mello had a few last issues to attend to.
Then we wished them all a happy birthday
Voice forgotten, he set out to find the children and separate persons who whispered, to wish them a contented anniversary of their day of life. Each and every one accepted the small wish with fake smiles upon their faces, and when the boy in the black and white dress was out of earshot, their whispers continued in the dark.
We kissed them all goodnight
It was time to say goodbye, for the night. The children needed to be in bed, sleeping peacefully and dreaming wonderful dreams of far away lands, where they would never have to endure the night that the older two had gone through. Mello found Matt lurking in a long corridor of the mansion they had run from hours previous, and when the children and separate persons were no longer whispering, Matt and Mello pressed chaste kisses to their foreheads. The minor task was finished and Matt stayed behind while Mello took to running once more.
Now he chases me to my room, chases me to my room, chases me,
Matt was coming after him, following him to his bedroom. Perhaps the younger wanted to play a game? Perhaps not. Maybe he just liked to tease the older, to have a little fun with him. After all, making a mockery of Mello had always been a favorite pastime of his, and there were drops of red dripping lightly from Matt's fingers.
In my black and red dress
So Matt chased after Mello, to the older's bedroom, while Mello wore his new dress. The dress, once white and clinging deliciously to his lithe frame, was now red and matted to his skin, a result of his sin in the woods, the sin that he had no choice but to commit.
I think my friend said don't forget the video
And everything was captured through the lens of a small camera, all unknown to Mello as he reached his room at the end of the corridor. He was out of breath and his lungs burned slightly, and he leaned against the navy blue walls for support. Matt caught up to him within seconds.
I think my friend said don't forget to smile
Snaking his arms around the older's waist, Matt bent and whispered in his ear to remember to smile, and smile widely. The words were whispered over and over.
You're a murder tramp, murder tramp, I think he said
Mello was hearing the entity again, and his assumptions from before were proven correct. The entity whispering in his mind earlier was Matt, the same one that was whispering in his ear, and Mello finally understood, and things made sense.
You're a murder boy, birthday boy, I think I said
"You're a murderer, Mattie; not me." And Mello pushed his hands away and walked back down the corridor, hips swinging and dress clinging to his body.
A/N: Yes, this was actually my first attempt at a horror oneshot, heh. I'm still proud of it. By the way, if any of you were confused with this, tell me in a review or PM, and I'll happily elaborate :)