Cleaning
Character Used: Beyond Birthday
Theme: Memories/Brooding
Disclaimer: Beyond Birthday does not belong to me. Obviously. :I
Beyond blinked.
He was returning, in a way. He's always away, actually, in his act and in his habits. Beyond acting as the great L sometimes made him believe that he was L. He knew it wasn't a good thing to lose himself in those sweet moments of depersonalization. But to him, it didn't matter, considering that he had just committed murder; if he could do that, he could do anything.
He blinked once more and looked down at the thing he had just mutilated. The woman's face was intact…peaceful. The rest of her body, however…
Beyond looked at his hands now, and stared at the red, sticky fluid that covered them.
Blood.
Her blood.
Beyond took a deep breath, calming himself down. No, he wasn't getting feelings of guilt or remorse. He wasn't regretting his decision to kill the woman in cold blood. Oh no, far from it.
He was getting excited.
Beyond giggled, the sound filling the ominously quiet room.
God, he was so excited. Using his bloody hands, Beyond covered his wicked grin and tried to stifle his growing laughter. Really, he wasn't even trying that hard to cover his happiness. He was alive for fuck's sake. He should celebrate in some way. When his giggle fit was over, he proceeded to walk into the bathroom, the grin still plastered on his face.
He began cleaning himself.
His vision was red.
It always has been.
But it's always been clear too. Beyond could see people; he could see what they were so easily. He would see what their inner turmoil was after observing them for a while. He would be able to see through their lies.
He knew what their fears were.
…And he liked knowing all of this. It made him excited.
The freshly bathed Beyond stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He looked at his skinny, but strong, pale body. He looked at his proficient and dangerous hands, capable of the most inhumane and sinful actions.
…And then, he looked at his face; the face he had stolen. He smoothed his black hair back and looked at the letters that hovered over his head. He could see his name, clear as day, but he couldn't see his death date.
No matter. He had plans for his death anyway.
Beyond had genuinely forgotten what he actually looked like. But, he knew what he was and what he was capable of, and that's what mattered. To him, a face was a mask. A very powerful mask. It was only part of the disguise, really.
Beyond dressed himself in the extra clean clothes he had brought. He proceeded to return to the bedroom to finish what he had started.
"What's your name?" A child asked the odd looking man.
The man looked at the child with this wide, grey eyes. "My name is Ryuzaki. I'll only be here for a while."
Some of the kids groaned.
"Don't fret children." Ryuzaki said, a small smile spreading over his face. "Let's make our time together worthwhile."
And then the games began. The kids of the orphanage listened to Ryuzaki and went along whatever games he suggested.
…Except for Beyond. The young genius was staring at Ryuzaki. That's really all he was doing while Ryuzaki visited. He did so because he knew who Ryuzaki was.
L.
And so, Beyond observed L, learning his peculiar habits and memorizing his odd appearance.
The bedroom was clean; just the way Beyond wanted it. The woman's body had been laid peacefully on top of the bed, the wooden counters had been wiped and dusted, the doorknobs had been wiped, and he had even wiped the ceiling fan.
That had only been part of his neurotic cleaning.
Beyond grabbed the trash bag he had and continued to clean up his mess.
Beyond was human.
His actions weren't, but he was. He had monsters in his head that plagued him wherever he was. His cursed eyes reminded him exactly what he was and what he knew. The disturbing vision had "opened his mind" in a way that should have never been.
But it didn't matter.
He felt alive.
And that's all that matters.
The young man let out a breath of smoke. The nicotine ran through, slightly calming him down.
Beyond had left the woman's house about an hour earlier. He was now staring at the fire he had started in a metal trash can. He was burning away the bloody sheets and his bloody clothes; destroying evidence.
He wondered if fire would destroy him as peacefully as it was to those pieces of evidence.
He threw the cigarette into the fire, watched it burn away, and decided that, yes, maybe fire would burn him as kindly.
He looked at the city from the hill, becoming twitchy.
He wanted to feel alive again.
A/N: The end. :I
I wrote this in a rush so sorry if it sucks.
