The Dark Hour
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of its respective characters. I am not making any profit whatsoever from this story and it is purely for entertainment purposes only. However I do own the Levandi family. Please ask for my written permission before using them in any way shape or form
"Childhood is measured out by sounds and smells and sights, before the dark hour of reason grows." - John Betjeman
Chapter One – Dealings with the Devil
Normally, he didn't do this kind of thing. Oh no, not at all.
But, since when had anything in his life ever been the slightest semblance of normal?
After all, he was the greatest detective the world had ever known. He was L, Ryuzaki, Coil. The man who had solved over 3,500 cases all alone and had saved countless lives, but he supposed that a little time for himself wasn't completely out of the question.
The house where he himself had grown up was Whammy's Home for Gifted Orphans. Or Whammy's House for short.
Whammy had always been a sort of a collector, amused by those whose minds worked differently than his own and now it was no different.
As much as he himself hated to admit it, Ryuzaki needed a successor, someone who could follow in his footsteps and take his place, should finally a criminal get the better of him.
He supposed Whammy had the right idea, as he had been gathering genius, orphaned and neglected children all across the world to take his place.
The idea never set exactly right with Ryuzaki, but he hated to admit he felt a bit of attachment to all those little kids who aspired to be him, and who really wouldn't?
But, recently, Whammy had received word of another child, a girl, and that alone piqued his interest. Whammy's house had no female members as of yet.
It was a bit of a reach, Whammy had said, but the girl was said to be a brilliant painter and although not orphaned she was a bit, neglected to say the least.
Normally, Whammy would have gone to save the child, but for the first time in his life Ryuzaki had no cases following him around. He had been quite exhausted from his ordeal with Beyond Birthday and to tell the truth was quite curious to see what it would feel like to actively change someone's life in a way that wasn't with distorted voices and computer screens.
Ryuzaki sighed and bundled himself even tighter in his scarf and coat. Estonia was even colder than he expected, Whammy had said the girl had lived here most of her life and as a result did not speak much English.
Of course, Ryuzaki had educated himself on the basics of Estonian language and hopefully would at least be able to converse pleasantly enough with the child.
He continued walking, gazing at the elegant faces of men and woman, some dressed in more European clothing, and others in what he assumed was traditional Estonian dress.
The streets were a strange mix of modern and traditional architecture and Ryuzaki paused for a moment to listen to the sounds of children playing in the snow and vendors selling their goods in the street.
After fifteen more minutes of walking he stopped in front of a small monastery. The building was ominous and made of stone, the only light coming from a few stained glass windows. Their light spilled onto the snow like blood.
The girl was said to reside inside of here along with her parents not out of devotion to God or for her almost ethereal paintings but because she heard voices. That had been precisely why Whammy had said it was a bit of a reach, she might be a little too much for them to handle, but Ryuzaki was never one to back down from any kind of challenge.
He strode up to the door, the snow crunching under his boots like glass. He knocked once on the big wooden door and waited.
After a few moments the door opened, and a small woman stepped out. She appeared mousy, her thin brown hair tied back into a small bun, which made her already angular face seem very sharp. She was very pretty, although he noticed she walked with a slight hunch. He wondered if perhaps the weight of such a religious structure was weighing down on her. She stared at Ryuzaki for a moment through silvery gray eyes, seeming mistrustful of him, then spoke in thick broken English.
"You come for girl?"
She did not seem entirely surprised and he assumed that the woman had received Whammy's letter.
Ryuzaki nodded, "Yes, may I see her?"
The woman nodded, "She possessed you know. Demons inside. She hear things not there."
Ryuzaki blinked now, "Possessed?"
The woman nodded furiously as she let him inside. "Yes. Possessed by devil. But Father save her."
The monastery was icy cold and Ryuzaki could see his breath in front of him like fog, he wondered vaguely how a child could survive in such conditions.
Almost immediately afterwards a terrible scream was heard from a room in the back. His police training kicking in Ryuzaki bounded towards the noise, fully prepared to confront some sort of danger, or at the very least a killer snowman.
When he reached the room, a little girl no older than nine was being held under a fountain pool of what Ryuzaki assumed was holy water while a priest and several monks stood over her reciting bible verses and making the sign of the cross over and over.
Normally, he had a healthy respect for religion for it was a human thing to believe in something higher than one's own self, to trust in a higher power. But, it wasn't an answer to someone suffering a mental illness.
The tiny girl sputtered and coughed, her dark brown hair plastered against her face wetly as she struggled against the monks and priest.
"Stop!" Ryuzaki said commandingly, practically leaping across the room and shoving the men away from the small girl. Damn his affection for small children.
He pulled the little child out of the water gently, murmuring shushing noises and struggling to stop the hiccuping sobs that erupted from her tiny mouth.
He brushed her dark brown hair back from her face and looked at her carefully. She was pretty, not in a dazzling way, but in a way that surely got one's attention. She looked up at him through silvery gray eyes and he held her against him, surprised when she clung to him.
"What on earth are you doing to her?" he demanded, staring angrily at the group of Estonians
The woman who had let him in shrugged and pulled a threadbare shawl about her shoulders, "She possessed. My Layla she hear voices. God set her free."
"This is your daughter?" Ryuzaki said softly, pulling the girl even tighter against him, "This is torture."
The tiny girl known as Layla clung to him, whimpering softly and for a moment he stroked her damp hair.
"She not well. She bring demon into house. Ever since she speak, bad things. Father died." Layla's mother murmured crossing herself and looking fearfully at the little girl.
He got angry then, quite familiar of cases where bad things had happened in a family and of course everyone looked for a scapegoat. Unfortunately, this poor little girl happened to be that scapegoat.
"Then I'll take her with me." Ryuzaki murmured, "Give me her things."
Layla's mother looked at him wearily, then let out a tiny sigh. "How much?"
Ryuzaki looked disgusted, "You actually want me to pay you? I suppose that would be in order. I can give you the equivalent of at least a thousand american dollars.
The woman and monks looked surprised, "American dollars?"
He nodded, and pulled out a wadded up amount of american dollars. "Take it."
"No mama!" a voice shouted suddenly.
A young boy, about fourteen years of age ran forth, from behind the monks and tugged at Ryuzaki's pants leg. "Don't let him take my sister!" He yelled in Estonian. "I...I know, she's sick, but please don't take her away from me."
Ryuzaki sucked in his cheeks, slightly relieved, at least someone cared for this ill little girl.
He looked sympathetically at the small boy, "Listen to me. I promise. I'll take good care of your little sister, she's sick. She has schizophrenia I believe. She needs help, I live at an institution and we'll take good care of her there."
"Mika," Layla said softly, for her tears had finally dried up enough for her to form a coherent sentence. "I want to go..I hate it here.
"But Layla," he murmured...then faltered, the little boy looked up at Ryuzaki, then back at his little sister, "You'll take care of her? Promise me you'll bring her back one day?"
He smiled, "Of course, I'll make her write to you."
Layla's mother returned with a small satchel with a few clothes, "This all she has. Make her better."
"I'll try." he said nodding.
Three weeks later
Ryuzaki soon discovered that Layla scarcely spoke at all, she was a well mannered child. Quiet, and a little shy, they both managed to have small conversations in Estonian. They spent most of the time in a hotel in Estonia, as he didn't want to rip her away from her homeland so suddenly.
She seemed intellegent enough, solving many of his little puzzles he made for her quietly and without complaint. However, he had not yet heard her talking to any kind of voices.
One morning, he entered their hotel room to find her painting a depiction of a young woman who lay kneeling before a blond man dressed in black. The painting was incredibly lifelike that Ryuzaki felt that he could almost fall into the work itself.
"That's beautiful Layla." he told her kindly, "You have quite the gift."
She murmured a quiet, "Thank you." before continuing her work.
This morning however, they were on the plane that was heading to Whammy's house and he paused to watch her play contentedly with the sugar packets that had come with her tea. She seemed quite undisturbed by the fact that she was leaving her homeland and Ryuzaki suspected she was even a little glad.
"Layla," he said softly in Estonian, "Tell me about the voices you hear, please?"
She frowned and began drawing a face in the piles of sugar, "I don't hear voices. Sidoh is real."
Ryuzaki sighed and stared at the cheesecake that had just been placed in front of him, by his own private stewardess and he dangled the fork over the pie for a moment, then took a large bite.
"Tell me about Sidoh." he said carefully.
She continued drawing in the sugar contentedly, "Sidoh is my friend, he loves me. Shares secrets with me. He keeps me safe."
"What does Sidoh share with you?"
She shrugged, "Stories,"
Ryuzaki took another bite of his cheesecake and spoke as he chewed thoughtfully, "Does Sidoh ever tell you to hurt people Layla?" Most people who heard such voices sooner or later heard them tell their victims to hurt people.
Suddenly, Layla looked up seeming shocked and a little angry, "Sidoh never hurts people. It's too scary."
"I see." Ryuzaki said thoughtfully.
He was beginning to suspect that this girl didn't have schizophrenia at all, it merely seemed like she had an imaginary friend, however that could change in a heartbeat. For now, it couldn't hurt to play along with her delusions for the most part.
"Is he here?" Ryuzaki asked.
Layla nodded happily and pointed right next to him. "He's staring at you Mr. L."
Ryuzaki turned to face the air beside him and pretended to tip his nonexistent hat, "Hello Mr. Sidoh, what a lovely plane ride this is. I hope you're enjoying yourself with Layla today."
He turned to Layla and winked at her, beaming at the warm giggle she gave him. "Sidoh likes you Mr. L."
Suddenly Ryuzaki felt the plane shake and land, he glanced out the window to see Whammy's a few yards away.
Gently, he took Layla's hand in his, "Come on Layla, meet the rest of your new family."