Lupus: I don't own Death Note! If I did, L would have lived!
The Japanese man stared at the two glass cases. He couldn't see through the frost built up on the inside, but he knew what the contents were. He gulped and wiped sweat from his forehead. This is it, he thought.
"Are you okay, Mr. Abho?" Abho was pulled out of his anxious trance.
"Yes. I'm fine. Now Mr. Atabo, shall we do it?"
"We shall." The other Japanese man nodded. He entered a password into something. Both containers suddenly opened, vapor or mist or something flooding out, eventually revealing two men, each in their own case. They each had a metal strap around their waist, holding them up on the back wall so they didn't fall over face first. They looked as if they were in deep sleeps, but Abho and Atabo knew they were in something more dreadful. Perfectly preserved, they were in the kind of sleep you never wake up from. The kind that makes friends and family cry. The kind that's sometimes painful, as it was for these two.
The two men were dead.
Abho shivered at the sight of them. They hadn't changed at all since they died. They still had the same clothes, the same expressions, and one still had blood staining his body and clothing. The only thing different was the positions they were in. Abho took out an empty syringe. He stepped over to the cylinder-shaped case on his left. The man inside appeared to be around the age of twenty-five. He had messy hair, darker than dark circles under his closed eyes, pale skin, and was wearing a plain white long sleeve shirt, faded blue jeans, and no socks or shoes. Abho suddenly remembered just who this chronic insomniac was: L. The world's greatest detective, who had solved a countless amount of difficult cases and sent even more criminals to prison. Most of them had been executed since the cases L had taken had been extremely bad ones.
Abho hesitantly stuck the end of the syringe into L's arm. It was as if he had just died yesterday as Abho got a syringe full of blood. He handed it to Atabo. Then he took out a second syringe and stood in front of the second man. He was about two years younger than L. While L had black hair, this man had brown hair. It was a very light color, almost orange. Speaking of light, his name was Light Yagami when he was alive. But he had been known across the world as Kira.
Kira had reigned over the world, especially Japan, killing off criminals. During his six year reign of power, and terror, the world had moved in a different direction. Criminals had almost been completely stamped out. Then Kira had been shot by a man named Touta Matsuda. Light had died of a heart attack, much like the criminals he'd killed, before he'd had a chance to bleed to death. Abho had heard from a friend that Light had been killed by a death god who had written his name in a magical notebook. Light had used a different copy of this notebook as his ultimate murder weapon.
Abho gathered some of Light's blood as well. Light seemed to have been a very serious and responsible man. Abho could tell Light's suit had once looked very neat and professional. But now it was tattered and stained with dried blood. In fact, there had barely been enough blood to fill Abho's syringe.
Abho smiled and gave the syringe to Atabo. Atabo traded it for a small container he'd just filled with L's blood. It was labeled with a fancy black capital "L". Atabo did the same with Light's and returned it to Abho labeled with a "K" with kind of the same design as the "L". Abho smiled again. "Good doing business with you, Mr. Atabo. Goodbye." Abho left the worker at the lab to work on his plan, while at the same time wondering why anyone would keep dead bodies like that.
Lupus: I think this is one of the more boring chapters (I already have a few chapters written on paper.), but it's still good, right? It's not the first fanfic I've written, so I had quite a bit of experience while writing this.