The Abyss Of My Missing Heart
Chapter 1
Disclaimer: I neither own nor have created Death Note and its characters. I do not own the plot of Death Note but I do claim ownership of T.A.O.M.M.H's plot for it does not follow the manga nor anime's plot of Death Note. If I do ever decide to make a sequel to T.A.O.M.M.H it will most likely follow the plot of D.N and only then will I disclaim ownership of T.A.O.M.M.H's plot. So no lawyers please.
Author's note: Ow and the disclaimer is for the whole duration of T.A.O.M.M.H. I'll also rate and tag each chapter, just to give you guys a heads up, in case there are younger readers or particular readers that do not like what will be in the chapter. I will also give a heads up about how I will write speech, thought esc.
Rating: T (Teenagers)
Tags: violence, character death, blood, brief mentions of substance abuse, depressing thoughts and language.
'Thought'
"Speech"
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Chapter 1
Part 1: Final breaths
POV: Light Yagami
I clenched my fists and dug them deeper into my blazer pockets, teeth chattering as I held my shoulders high and rigid, in a futile attempt to retain heat. A chill crawled down my spine as the icy breeze of the night fluttered past me.
The patter of my boots padding across the concrete sidewalk the only sounds, beside the creatures of the night, and my soft, shaky breaths that were visible as puffs of white fog in the cruelly cold air.
All light smothered by the glittering black of night, aside from the street lamps that lit an eerie orange hue over the cracked tar, and occasional porch light as the neighbourhood soundly, and safely slept in their beds.
An image of my own comfy bed, crossed my mind longingly as I forced my exhausted body onwards, golden-brown pools of my gaze looked to the eerily deserted street laid before me.
My focus drifted to my side, scanning over the aged trees that stood tall and proud for withstanding the test of time as I turned into a different street.
Passing urban houses, I strained my eyes to read the addresses etched, elegantly into the painted walls.
A sigh escaped my cold lips before I jerked an arm up, out of the warm cocoon of my blazer pocket, and into the biting cold, and my line of sight. The fabric around my wrist slid back from the jerking movement, revealing the digital wristwatch coiled around my wrist.
Its crimson digits glowed enough to allowing me to see the four numbers separated evenly by a colon.
Thirteen minutes past midnight.
"Damn it's late..."I cursed under my breath bitterly, hissing sharply at the cold that bit at my hand, causing me to abruptly shield my poor, shaky appendage with the warm safety of my pocket.
'Note to self: Never hang out, after school, with Trigger.' I mock scolded myself as amusement tugged at my lips.
Damn Trigger, and his damn seductive Play-Station console, and damn Need-For-Speed game.
I never usually bother with virtual games. I find most of the time boring, a waste of time and far from intellectually challenging, but once in a blue moon. It is pleasurable to indulge myself by muting my brain from logic, and allowing my childish side to take control.
With a ghost of a smile still gracing my lips, I strolled stiffly onto a narrow gravel pathway that to my knowledge cut through a stretch of field that reached the main road into town. Its long, dry grass that almost past my height, scratched at my sides, and tickled my chin irritably as I walked.
I briskly turned direction, trotting over a different, sandier, and littered pathway as the previous one had split into a fork.
Even in the near blinding dark I was still able to expertly weave through the maze of pathways, leading myself towards the road that would take me to my abode.
When we had a chance to escape prying eyes, during our free time, my closest friends and I would weave our way through this field to a cluster of rocks in a small clearing. Where the grass around was taller than the rest. There, we would be hidden from the world around us, an escape from reality.
Very few knew of that place...an excellent place to smoke weed and not worry about being caught...
My parents would be livid to discover I've used illegal substances. In fact my father might go ballistic just because I would soon arrive at his doorstep past midnight.
The delinquent part of me was amused at the thought of pissing off my father. The logical and more sensible part of me knew that, that was not a wise idea.
They have always viewed me as the perfect son, and why would they not? I have always projected myself as the perfect son. I have never allowed my sinful dealings to reach their knowledge and they have stayed oblivious to my darker side.
Nothing of what I have done could be labelled as evil or despicable. I have experimented with substances and sexuality as any other teenager would, never being shy with what I have done, or bold enough to take it too far, but it would still disappoint my parents to discover that their perfect son is not perfect after all. It is this fear of disappointing them that has kept me in check, which has kept me from crossing the line.
To them I am perfect. To the world around I am perfect.
I possess one of the highest IQs in Japan. I am popular in school, academically and athletically advanced, the heartthrob for the girls and the jealous streak for the boys.
My life is perfect.
I am perfect.
I was perfect.
'Too perfect.'
All these expectations I so easily exceed. The stress of keeping my perfect mask in place around the public eye. This mask I weir like an actor playing a role. The same routine, the same scenes, day in and day out, on permanent repeat.
Even when the certain falls and I'm off stage, amongst family, my role-play still continues and my mask still in place.
I love my family and I care for my friends but I feel this hollow feeling, as if I'm an outsider looking in, an actor just playing a role. This is all so maddening.
A sigh once again escaped my cold lips as I realized I was drowning myself in self-pity and depressing thoughts. I slowed my pace to a less briskly walk. No point in...
A pain shot through the back of my head as something solid came smashing down onto my skull, forcing me harshly to my knees. I ducked forward with my hands griping at my throbbing head as a desperate attempt to still the deafening ringing that echoed in my skull.
Before I could raise my head, a crushing pain erupted through my side, sending me tumbling onto the gravel pathway.
Shards of glass and rock cut through my blazer and button up shirt, piercing my skin and cutting deeply into muscle. I growled in pain before adrenaline took over, causing me to abruptly lift myself up to spin around, blindly throwing a fist in vengeful fiery.
A sense of satisfaction fluttered briefly through me as I felt my fist make contact with a jaw. I watched as the shadowed figure of my attacker stumble back with a surprised grunt.
Not even a second past before the figure bombarded me with a series of crushing blows. I was slow to react, costing me dearly as powerful blows repeatedly hammered into my abdomen and chest. I instinctively brought my arms up to defend myself but this proved useless as a significantly powerful blow, smashed into the side of my head, surely cracking bone.
Blood splattered out of my mouth as I stumbled backwards, tripping over my own two feet, and falling to the ground with a hard thud.
The entirety of my body cramped up in pain from both the force of the fall and attack.
Blood loudly drummed in my ears as my head spun, and before I knew it, the heavy weight of my attacker pined my mid-section down as calloused hands roughly grabbed my throat, halting my breaths from neither entering or exciting my lungs .
I blindly grabbed and clawed at the masculine body above me. I heard a frustrated grunt before the hands left my throat to grave my wrists.
My lungs aced at my rapid breathing and my heart violently beat at my rib cage as I stubbornly and furiously thrashed about, in a fruitless attempt to escape the domineering figure forcing me down.
The shadowed figure forced me down further by pushing a knee into my chest painfully. A howl of agony erupted in my throat and echoed in the night as I felt my rib cage crack and press agents my heart. A hand left my wrist, giving me an opportunity to strike at the bastard. A sense of accomplishment washed over me as I landed a sturdy blow to the face.
The figure growled deeply in anger, my brief victory at pissing off my attacker was short lived as a sharp object shredded through my throat. My body went rigged with shock, my mind blank. Time seemed to slow down, and then ricochet back into dreading reality.
Hot tears begun to pure down my paling cheeks, uncontrollably as I numbly grabbed at the figure above with my free hand.
Salty tears mingled with glistening blood, creeping abundantly down the sides of my throat. The hot crimson liquid filled my mouth, trapping fear filled screams in gurgling bubbles.
The glittering black of night turned pitch black, the figure disappearing in the black, only it's gleaming, wicked teeth could I see vaguely as my body numbed to all. My hand fell from its hold on the figure to lie motionlessly beside my head.
Coldness clutched around my heart, steadily slowing its rapid beats to stillness.
My lungs relaxed to release my final breath, plunging me into darkness.
END PART 1/2
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Author's note: Um I'm splitting chapter one into two parts: Final Breath and Welcome to Purgatory because, well I'm not sure anyone will like this fic and this is my first fic I'm posting onto the FanFiction site. So I'm nervous about this. Heck I'm only fourteen so I get nervous about everything. It will help me a lot and inspire me to continue this fic if you guys not only read it but review as well. Even Raito-kun agrees with me!
Raito: (Lover holds knife to Raitio's back) You do know you already killed me off...
Lover: Yes... (Digs knife into Raito's back)...but I'm the Author. What I say, well, write. Goes...(Digs knife deeper as she whispers in Raito's ear)...and I say, you can still feel pain.
Raito: (Sweat drop. Big fake smile. Overenthusiastic.)Yes!Please review as much as possible! Even criticism will be accepted!
Lover: (Throws knife over shoulder and smiles crookedly) Constructive criticism will be much appreciated.
Raito: (Mumbles to self well rubbing back) she's got to stop watching that Dead-Pool movie...
Lover: What did you say?
Raito: Nothing!
Nameless: Yes! Review!Review!Review!
Lover: Nameless! You spoiler dipshit! Fuck off! You're only supposed to show up at part two!
Nameless: (Cackles evilly)