His Only Regret
A/N: Beyond only ever had one regret… This is told from his point of view.
Disclaimer: As much as I wish and pray and cut myself, I will never own Death Note. At least I can claim that BB loves me and pretend that he does… Which is unlikely since, you know, he a fictional character and a serial killer, so… yeah. Not gonna happen. But we can PRETEND! That's what roleplay is for!
I didn't mean to kill her. She was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. No… This was my entire fault. She knew the risks; she knew she was going to die. I hadn't expected to have to kill her so soon, though. I should've never agreed to take her with me… All these months on the run with her had been the best of my life, and I had thrown her away, disposed of her, ended her, whatever you wanted to call it.
I sat in the dingy apartment, waiting for L and his minions to find me. I knew they were coming for me, so I did what I had to do to protect her. Her blood coated the walls, the floors; coated me. It was the only thing I had left of her. People sometimes say that when a loved one dies, they keep things of them and still somehow feel that they are there. I honestly didn't feel anything except for this numbness and sickness. Was she a loved one?
As much as I had denied it, as much as I hated to say it, she was. My life felt lost without her. She was the missing piece, my other half, the only one that made me forget about my past and everything I had done. She treated me like an equal, like I was a normal person instead of a sick, vicious, evil person. I hated myself so much, I felt like I was going to vomit.
But this is what I had wanted. I preferred her to be dead than to go to trial, voted guilty, live in a confined cell, never step outside to see the sunrise she so dearly loved, be executed by someone other than me. That was my ultimate promise to her- if anything ever happened to us, whether we got caught or her time was up, I was going to kill her. I would torture her slowly and then stay there with her until she finally died.
I heard car doors outside slam, and I knew that they were here. They would burst in and put a gun to my head, completely horrified by what they saw. They would proceed to the one bedroom where she was laying on the bed, her pale white skin almost completely covered in blood, her wavy brown hair splayed around her head like a crown or a halo, and her closed eyes, never opening again to reveal her beautiful and unique blue/green irises.
Evidence of my deed was everywhere; the knives, the blood, the now inaudible screams forever staining the history of this wretched place. Sure enough, Keehl kicked down the door and immediately locked eyes with me, pointing his gun straight at me as I sat in that peculiar way on the couch. I just gazed back at him sadly. I had pretty much lost all will to live; what was the point anymore?
Jeevas and the Yagami boy followed behind, immediately repulsed by all of the blood. They quickly swept through the small kitchen, and then the Yagami brat dared to go into the bedroom. I smirked at his gasp of torture. They thought that I didn't know? All of them, the whole task force, had loved her. They all wanted her to be their special girl, the one that would love them unconditionally, and their anchor in the storm. But she was mine.
Yagami came storming out, his eyes filled with rage and insanity. He held a gun straight to the temple of my forehead, and the cold barrel felt nice against the dried blood that was caked there. "You sick bas-"
Jeevas pulled his arm back, obviously not knowing what was going on. And then Yagami spoke, hate and malice in his voice. "He killed her, Matt. She's dead."
Oh, the look of pure evil on the faces of the people here made me laugh. If only L were here. I would've loved to see his face crumple into a small thing of sadness, and his stupid mask of nothingness wouldn't do any good against his sorrow. But I wasn't planning on sticking around that long.
I pulled a knife out of my pocket, and sure enough, Keehl shot me right in the stomach, making me fall to the ground in pain. But I deserved this. This was for her. I laughed even louder, sending pain everywhere through me, but I didn't care. I was still holding the knife. I plunged it through my heart, and I started to bleed out quickly. My whole life flashed before my eyes, but the only regret I had was telling her that I loved her no more than once.
Yeah, really depressing… I died. I asked all of my friends, and they all said that I am masochistic- I have pleasure in pain. They think my case more along the lines of loving to get hurt by those I love. So I made a story about getting tortured to death by my one true love… Review please! :D