A/N - Hello. I'm Jik. Not Sar. I'm the other chick that uses this account. Now before you go all 'These paragraphs are f-ing huge!' I have written much larger paragraphs for school. Fifteen sentences each for twenty paragraphs, per regular essay. So be glad I'm not writing like that. :D This was originally written as a brief introduction to a horror story for my creative writing classes, but I thought it would fit the Death Note characters very well, so I decided to continue the story.

Be warned - this may turn to a mature fic due to horror and probable sexual scenes. So if you can't stand that stuff, you were warned. There isn't going to be much cutesy crap; I don't do that. I did not write this as something I wanted other people to enjoy reading. This is something that I, personally, would enjoy reading. So I'll gladly except all of your constructive criticism and see if it suits my style.

Disclaimer - I own nothing but the plot.

-

Askew Betwixt

I never did give them hell. I just told the truth, and they thought it was hell.

Harry S Truman (1884 - 1972), in Look, Apr. 3, 1956

I look over and see a man commit suicide across the street. So here's what I do - I go to church the next day with my friend who I swore to I'd never step foot in a church unless it was for something important. So when the priest asks me to tell my 'sins', I smile like a fool and say, 'I saw a man kill himself, and I felt like laughing because he was a good Christian man, and his God wasn't there.' For being truthful I got a therapist and a restraining order.

Unknown

-

i.

Humanity knew it then; on that night that no star twinkled in. That time when the sky was a bare, black slate with no moon to give a clue, there and then, that there was anything to hope for. Cold gray flakes began to cover the restless world as all things human gathered around any form of contact - radios, televisions, bars, sidewalk news broadcasts, computers, anything really. All were waiting, curious as to what had attacked two weeks prior; that had caused a major uproar in society - having successfully destroyed all human life in a major Asian city in a mere ten hours. Every city was still, no child wailed, every human held its breath as the hour came, an hour of truth.

The report was quick and to the point, there could be no playing with words, and there was no possible way to make light of this situation. The stilled world released the breath it had been holding as everything was focused on the one man who would reveal everything to the billions of ears and eyes.

The average elder man began the second the fourth hour of the new day started, his voice was shaky but fully believing of what he had to say, "What destroyed all human life in that city in a mere ten hours, was - there is no other way to put this - Demons. They are not human, They are to be destroyed at all costs as They are a threat to our wellbeing. They are only here to rid the world of humanity, which is not allowed to happen. They are distinguished by inhuman powers - powers in some (rare) cases equivalent to gods of ancient lore and tales; horns that are commonly displayed by forming above the temples on the forehead; and enhanced, deadly fangs and claws. The most important factor about Them is their inhuman beauty; how Their bodies were made to flow, to have no imperfections like crooked teeth, out of proportion figures. In a sense They are poison disguised in silk and jewels."

The man paused - to let this information sink in to the shocked world before continuing his report, "To eliminate Them the World Governments have come to the decision to to allow the training of physically fit, and willing people to be trained in an organization known as Hound to eliminate Them. They are sure to spread out and destroy major cities before moving on to smaller groups and easily wiping the planet of humanity. Hound will gladly welcome any brave men and women who wish to protect the planet from Them."

Within two weeks over a million 'brave' men and women had signed up for Hound, resulting in the deaths of nearly nine hundred thousand foolish humans during training and missions over the next five months. People began to be wary of the Hounds, but they could not rely on anything else, as Hound was the only thing that could protect humanity from Them. Humanity was rapt in belief that They would destroy every last one of them to realize that something even greater was going on behind the scenes.

-

"...And we still are, considering that this happened five years ago, and even now the situation of fighting has not; and most likely will never change. So, class, any questions?" questioned the History Teacher at Whammy's House for (Gifted) Orphan Children.

As usual there were no questions, each orphan was far above the intelligence of the average human being, and were competing for positions as L's apprentices. L was the best detective, and now possibly the best Hound the world has ever heard of. Human children, no matter the intelligence, are by nature selfish, greedy things that strive to be recognized by anyone of higher caliber. So whatever way to make the genius orphans become the best they can be by offering them a position as L's apprentice? The answer is none. Nothing could convince a human child to do something better than offering them a promising position in the eyes of a very respected individual.

The only problem with this was that the orphans had to be first, second, or third to even be considered being one of L's apprentices. First position was quickly, and permanently claimed by a toy-loving albino child known as Near. Near was exceptional in everything except social skills, and had in many cases proven that no one else deserved to be first. Second was claimed by a fiery blond called Mello, whose sheer violent mood swings easily made it so no one would challenge his position for second. That and the fact he was always just a precious half-point behind Near, whom he hated, and befriended at the same time.

So that left just the third position open to whom ever could seize it, however no one held the position for long. One week was the longest time anyone had hungrily bore the title 'Third'. The only way the other orphans could hope to be chosen by L was to hold the title of 'Third' without being dragged down to the bottom by another attention-craving swine that was just dieing to hold L's interest for longer than few hours at best. Those that could not hope to even brush Third were treated poorly by their smarter peers, and only gathered around others to make themselves look smarter than they were. In short, the orphanage was corrupt. Corrupt enough to manipulate the greedy, selfish desires of orphan children to simply rat out the best of them. Things started to change a week after the aforementioned history lesson. After a battle against Them over a piece of Northern Europe territory; L brought back another 'highly intelligent child destined for great things'.

The newest addition to Whammy's was (like usual) brought out before everyone and introduced, before Roger told a bit about the child's pitiful predicament. The new orphan's parents would have been proud to know their son's beauty was easily on par with Their own inhuman grace. (Only fools would say that the new orphan was as good looking as Mello.) Pale, porcelain skin was not at all unbecoming, it was a smooth color that made the thirteen-year-old's other features stand out in an unusually flawless contrast. Tousled and messy red hair a shade so close - no the exact shade of freshly spilled blood framed his face down to his chin. Green eyes dulled with gray glanced over the other orphans; however something was different about his eyes. They had a certain knowledge about them; like those eyes had seen something that should never have been seen; like the owner of the eyes had some wisdom and maturity that the attention-whores of Whammy's didn't have. It was clear that the doll-like orphan before them had had some experience to change him, but it was also clear none of the selfish creatures in the room would never know.

Roger began to speak after the orphans had a good look at the redhead, "Everyone, please welcome Matt, his parents disappeared during the most recent battle against Them, and it must be be very traumatic for him to learn that his parents aren't coming back."

The redhead, Matt, almost snorted. Almost? His parents had not disappeared, he knew exactly what had happened to them, and why he was here. Not like he'd tell the whole truth to a disturbing old, biased, person such as Roger.

The elder man continued to speak, "Matt will be Near and Mello's new roommate, as all the other rooms have three or more children in them-"

"What!?" snarled a clearly enraged androgynous blue eyed blond - his eyes pieces of the sky itself - at the fact that he would have to share a room with someone other than Near. Who was bad enough as it was.

"-And I will not have any complaints from you, Mello. Matt is to room with you two, and you be nice to him. Understood? Or do you want another detention?" finished the now slightly agitated old man.

Mello grudgingly muttered an 'Understood', before turning his burning glare to Matt - who seemed oblivious. Following Roger's orders the blond grudgingly led the year-younger redhead down the halls towards their room. Near followed silently behind somewhere. Mello roughly pushed the redhead onto the third bed in the room, and grabbed a fistful of blood colored hair, snarling at Matt, "Listen, you little dog, people do what I say around here, and if you get in my way... Well let's say your pale ass won't be that pale anymore, got it?" When the redhead didn't answer, the blond yanked on the fistful of hair causing the redhead to whimper slightly, and nod. Satisfied Mello released his prisoner, and sauntered over to his own bed.

Matt curled up underneath plain white sheets, cradling his head between his hands. He didn't really understand - why did children have to always be the best? To have all the attention on them, then again from what Matt had seen, many humans were like that. It was too much to think about right now - so the redhead allowed himself a moment of peace by slipping into a light sleep.

-

After reading another interesting chapter from the history book, the teacher asked (it was more of a routine anyways), "Any questions?" The woman of course hadn't been expecting any questions, so she was shocked to say the least when she saw a hand quietly raised. The woman was even more shocked to see that it belonged to the redhead who was now clad in a black and white striped long-sleeve shirt, and jeans. The new ones never asked questions, and if they did they ended up not speaking from nervousness. "Y-yes, Matt?"

"You seem surprised that someone would have the willingness to express their own views on this subject," the redhead paused as if trying to get used to the question he was about to ask, "Anyways... I was wondering, why do humans think demons are bent on destroying humanity? Are humans really that ugly, and selfish to believe that demons would bother destroying something that is destroying itself?"

After Mello angrily snapped his chocolate bar in half, causing several orphans to flinch, the teacher gaped at the redhead, "What are you, Matt? Some kind of They-sympathizer!? Why else would They destroy a whole city of people to make Themselves known!?"

The redhead sighed and paused the PSP he had been playing during the whole class, looking up from behind the orange-tinted goggles that covered the dull eyes. "Yet, no one has ever personally asked the demons why they attacked - why they are here. Perhaps if we could just talk to one of the demons, this whole mess could be sorted out. However, since no one has ever thought to do just that, I suppose the senseless fighting will just continue," the redhead reasoned, in a vaguely uncaring tone.

Then there was silence except for the angry snap of a chocolate bar being bitten into. The owner of the chocolate decided to interrupt the silence with a snarl, "And you think one of Them would be willing to talk to us? What on earth would posses you to think that those fucking killers would want to talk to us!?"

"And humans are no different?" pointed out the redhead, sounding more uncaring than ever. Matt felt like he was trying to reason with a pack of starving - oh anything carnivorous really. At this point this could very well be true to the redhead, who had decided this was pointless, and returned to playing the never really forgotten PSP on his desk. Let the starving carnivores ponder the double meaning behind his question.

-

The redhead had held the title of 'Third' for six days now, and the other children were starting to get anxious. Anxious as they were, the attention grubbing swines noted that Matt never even looked at his score cards, tossing them away the second he got them. Not sparing a single glance at the trash can they would land in, like how the average human payed no attention to any anthill he or she crushed. The redhead only cared about his precious video games, asking questions just to shock his teachers, and to cause an argument with one of the orphans in that class.

After watching Matt throw away his scores for the fifteenth time that week, Mello was finally angry enough to take it out on the boy. During the lunch hour the blond grabbed a fistful of red hair and dragged the younger boy into a hallway that was rarely used. Pain flickered across the pale boy's face as he was roughly slammed into the beige wall; sliding down the rough surface down to polished wood floors - so clean unlike the people that walked there.

A sharp iron taste entered the redhead's mouth as a gloved fist connected to his jaw with an audible crack. The younger boy broke into a fit of coughing, trying to get rid of the iron liquid in his mouth. Hack, cough, hack. The blond was not satisfied with that in the least as the redhead curled into a coughing fetal position. Flecks of blood littered his pale hands from trying to stop the now painful cough. A whimper escaped his lips as a combat boot roughly connected with his exposed side, again and again. The redhead was sure this went on for fifteen minutes before the sharp repetitive pain in his side abruptly stopped.

Uncurling from his position on the floor, he blinked his fuzzy vision over to where the pain had came and stopped. L himself was restraining the furious blond - an angry drowned cat - from attacking Matt anymore. A mop of white hair caught the redhead's attention, a small smile ghosted his face - Near had told. The albino slunk over to the damaged redhead, and helped the older boy up from his position on the floor. Matt was just about to pull Near into a thank you hug when L spoke up.

"To Roger's office, now," the irritated Hound ordered, making sure Mello walked in front and away from the redhead.

"Thanks, Near," mumbled Matt, looking at the albino gratefully.

"Not a problem. Mello shouldn't be allowed to pick on people who haven't justifiably angered him," the mouse-like younger replied, black eyes betraying the fact that he had been worried.

"We're here," L deadpanned as he shoved Mello through the door, followed by the detective, and the redhead and albino.

Roger scowled as the door closed and dared to ask, "What did you do this time, Mello?"

The enraged Mello snarled, "I beat the shit out of that uncaring, goggle-freak! I still say he deserves it!"

"Its strange how I was just about to call for Matt - some letter came from a friend - and he ends up getting beat up. Well anyways, you'll have to wash the dishes for a the next two days, Mello. Here is the letter, Matt," the old man said, placing a plain white envelope on the desk in front of them. In plain black text the name 'Matt' was written, with a wax seal of an old English styled 'K' to seal it closed.

Apprehensively the redhead broke the seal, and pulled out a single white rectangular card. Green eyes scanned what was written on the card, before dropping it face up on Roger's desk. The grin on his face would give the Cheshire Cat himself a run for his money, and it even unnerved the emotionless L. The gamer suddenly fell to the floor in muffled hysterics, causing four pairs of eyes to trail to the card now sitting on the desk. There was only a single word on the card, written in a maroon-colored old, archaic style lettering. The single word caused four pairs of eyes to widen in slight confusion.

Traitor.

-

And there it is. Obviously the characters are not in their right minds, no? Matt's probably worse off than Mello. Well I don't know yet, so we'll just have to find out. Look I even threw in mystery to boot, and a cliffhanger.

If you hadn't already guessed the 'K' stands for Kira. So don't you wonder how that guy will fit into all of this? I do.

I was listening to songs when I wrote the original version of this for school and they were;

Trigger Happy Jack by Poe

Play by Krooked K

Evolution by Korn

Bring the Pain by MSI

Okays then... R & R even if it is constructive criticism that may or not be used. Please and thank you.