A/N: This is just an introduction to the story. From this chapter on, the story will be in first person. :) This is just getting the basic concept and images down pat. Review please! YOU FLAME=YOU FAIL.
SUMMARY: One of Mello's accomplices branches out, taking the Kira investigation into the realm of a savage, unstable mind. :: OC/MELLO ::
RATED: M, for "Mature Mofo"
WARNINGS: Violence, drugs, weapons, prostitution, explicit date rape, and implied yaoi.
. s a v a g e .
; prelude.
The cards were aligned, the dealer's hands shaking as he served the round table, the sound of thick paper scraping against green felt making a bead of sweat dew on the back of his neck. His crazed eyes were wide, the tense atmosphere making his breath escalate until his heart pounded against his ribcage, his paled skin now knitted together at his brow.
Large men with strange tattoos had descended from the slot machines to this particular poker table, each of their faces painted with the desire to kill. Ten of them surrounded the quivering old man, slumped, not daring to lift his head and let them see how scared he was. After all, that's the way things worked around here.
His visor now tilted a certain way, blocking his expression from the fierce observers that gathered hesitantly at the unstable wooden chairs. Rotted and weathered, they threatened to collapse. But of course the focus wasn't on the seating. Each pair of shadow concealed eyes were glued to the shaken man, whose mouth didn't utter a single word, whose sagged skin portrayed the scars that only a poor man could bear.
"Respecting your elders is the most common display of intellect, you know."
All heads turned to the end of the table, seeing only the shadow of the poor lighting cast on one of the rotten pieces of furniture. But soon enough, a portion of luminous, paper white skin was visible, and the color of coral pink that painted the shape of small lips. Thick smoke, one only the finest cigars could produce, flooded from these lips - floating upward until it vanished.
More emerged, the blackest of black suits coating a tiny, dark figure - which did no justice to the china doll skin that it swaddled. Under a hat of nigrescent cascaded the palest blond strands of hair, reaching to the figure's chest. Streaks of gray were poised as well within the sea of nearly white, the light dancing off of each individual breast length piece.
The figure's head tilted upward only slightly, but enough to reveal a shock of the lightest blue in its irises, the color of the brightest skies. Thick black eyelashes rimmed large eyes, though underneath the lids displayed a sickly gray.
A small hand brought the burning cigar to the lips again, the onlookers' gazes turning feral in a heartbeat, only to realize that the figure was one of a girl. Her lips coiled up in an unmistable lopsided grin, a portion of gleaming white teeth revealed, her stature completely calm and relaxed. More apathetic, in a way. She didn't meet any of the lingering stares that stuck to her, yet they would look at her like a piece of meat. The silence was hard to bear.
She, in such haste, whipped out a roll of money, slamming it harshly on the tabletop, leaning on her extended arms as her face was shadowed. Her piercing eyes met the old man's, and he immediately looked like he was going to pass out. Her grin faded, and her facial muscles were relaxed to the point that she looked almost dead, if it weren't for those glowing blue circles that came in a striking pair.
"You play your games of chance, gentlemen - yet when the cards aren't in your favor, you blame others for whatever possessed you to place your money on this table..Tell me..does it satisfy you, to know that you've lost the game?"
Her voice, at first like soft winter silk, now became rough and desperate. Did they not get the message? Was it really so hard to get through their thick skulls? All these lives in here were going to be taken, by a trio of explosives planted in the basement. Perhaps she had been wrong. Maybe there was no hope for the innocent, besides Kira. But Mello had detested.
And his orders were strictly enforced, not that she followed them. But this time..it wasn't optional. These rival gang members had to die, and unfortunately, that came with the small price of additional lives being taken. This, oddly enough, did not bother the fair skinned beholder. The detonator rested soundly in the pocket of her expensive suit, and she was not hesitant to turn on her heel, leaving the faces behind. They were blank with confusion, and that's all they would feel before they died. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't..
Once she was outside the cheap wooden door of the local bar, she pulled out the panel with the small red switch in the middle, which would cause the small building to explode. She didn't hesitate to jaywalk, hearing the vicious blares of car horns. The soft breeze, scented like drugs, cheap perfume, and smoke, tenderly brushed her hair over her shoulder. She disregarded the brief kindness of the atmosphere and trailed her fingers over the potential weapon, lingering on the switch.
She didn't look back before tugging it, gingerly, like a lover would tug playfully at their partner's hands in a shameless display of affection.
She felt the heat grow steadily against her back as she tossed the evidence into the gutter, the orange light luminating the windows in front of her. She heard the cries of children and screeching of tires, but her eyes were fixed on nothing, feeling only the world's weight on her shoulders. Not the cold wind that blew, not the warmness that slowly spread across the way as the explosion died out, leaving only embers to remind the world of what cruelty could do to disfigure even the most structured person.
She could hear her name being whispered, perhaps by herself. She didn't care enough to check.
Resa, oh Resa..My sweet little Resa..
Why do you kill me so softly,
So sweetly?
Your sins are surely pure, little girl.
Why do you cry tears of only hatred
When you can cry tears of only love?
Rest with the stars, little girl.
For the woman that replaces you is not kind.