I see the bullets fly.
They can't kill God, my mind laughs arrogantly away. They will surely fly off my skin.
But they pierce me. And they hurt. And I fall. And I whimper.
Something sloshes against my skin. It is wet, but warm. Almost burning. My head clicks almost instinctively round to see it. To see my blood.
For I am not God.
And this is not my beautiful new world.
But I must live.
I cry for them;
My believers, my followers. In the end surely they would redeem me.
Takada...is dead.
Mikami...has turned.
Misa...has been taken from me.
The strings have been cut.
The puppet show has darkened.
But I must live.
Ryuk. My demonic angel.
I see the smile. The teeth of death ready to strike. Ready to take the lives of many.
"Kill them all," I croak for my voice has lost its power.
But my prayer is unanswered. It tells me no. It's hymn is my name which the fallen angel sings on his book written in semibreve's of death.
Forty seconds until the final note.
I can feel the breath leave my lungs. We're in the chorus now.
But the show must go on.
Twenty seconds until the climax. I keep my eyes open, watching the man in front of me. Watching him sing.
He is hard to see, blinding my eyes.
Five seconds left. Time to finish off.
Time for the heart to pump it's last burst of blood
Time to join my fallen comrade in the choir.
Time to say goodbye.