A/u: I don't own Death Note. C: PLEASE REVIEW. Thanks.
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My name Is Lawliet but…
I don't really think I need a name. Names were given to people, to identify them, and tell them apart. Anyone could identify me by simple looking at my eyes. My shell was calloused skin just like a human. I had ten digits on my hands. And even though my veins are like protruding wire cables, I was still human…until you looked in my eyes. They sent animals wild as though I was the devil spawn in 'The Omen'. My eyes separated me from such intricate beings.
"Don't look at anyone." My mother would urge me, gripping my bony arms tightly. She fed me, but I didn't get much pleasure from eating. The starvation reminded me of monsters tearing at my insides. It was a physical feeling, but it was still a feeling.
Intangible things I could not understand. I saw it around me. I saw love; flushed skin, nervous laughter, diverted eyes…But my skin would never flush. It was some sort of magic I could not understand.
Textbooks label me 'sociopath'. My mother labeled me 'special'. Doctors labeled me 'my next paycheck'.
Not that I minded for all the labels.
Now, this might come as a surprise to you. I own the infamous strip club 'Paradise Palace' notorious to yakuza and big businessmen or just anyone who can pay my angels fees. Your thinking something along the lines of…'What the hell is a sociopath doing with a strip club?'
It's my connection to the yakuza. They keep me out of the governments hands if I provide them with discounts on erotica. Anything is better than being chained to a cell. I'll even endure the lies, the human scum, the ear blistering noise, the drunken rants, bar fights…
If only there were no humans.
I observe business from the second floor. Neon lights and glitter make the room look like some shroom trip into neverneverland. The women are dancing to some generic pop song, dressed in today's theme: 'Lesbian Lolita's'. The customers were ecstatic about this. Men were easy. It's all a matter of X+Y=Z. Men like things they can't have. Seeing humans from a distant perspective, a scientific one, instead of an emotional one, clears up any confusion.
Takada was the breadwinner of my angels. Gifted with big breasts and a dominatrix vibe, customers swarmed her asking for private sessions. I let her private sessions slide as long as I was given twenty percent of her prostitution fees.
Money and security…that's all there is to want in life…right?
Xxx
"I'm Misa Amane and I need a job."
My eyes travel slowly to a petite blonde. Pretty, but not enough to make me throw a resume in her face. Not that I was hiring anyways. I was just sipping at some alcoholic beverage that reeked of scandal at the end of the bar…closing hours, and this girl storms up to me, eyes bleary, hair a mess, clothes disheveled… her legs were nearly shaking from underneath her. I'm surprised she could stand.
If I were human, I would feel compassion for her. But I'm not, so I don't.
"Your breasts are smaller than average. B-cup I presume? And an artificial blonde." I attempt a sound of disgust, but it just comes out as some flat cough. "Your selling points are your legs and lips. That's not enough to garner customers unfortunately."
"Please…" Her lips pucker. "I need…a job. I'll even bartend, waitress…"
I stand up. "You have nothing to offer here."
She grips my shoulders tightly, and hurls my face towards her. Her eyes are unrecognizable. Like a foreign species. They are glazed like she just spent the last ten minutes getting high, they sparkle anticipating tears, her eyebrows are scrunched like overlapping railroads. I realize it's because her eyes contrast mine. Mine suggest emptiness, hers: chaos.
"DON'T TELL ME WHAT I CAN AND CAN'T OFFER!" She bellows. The grip is astonishingly strong. She won't let me away, even if it means clawing my eyes out. "I won't leave until I'm given a chance!"
"After a few calls…" I keep a calm tone. "Whether or not you decide to leave will be a problem."
"I'll die right here if I have to!" She screeches. In a swift movement she grabs my glass, and breaks it on the bar. My angels perk at the sound and rush to the scene of the crime. The woman takes one of the broken shards and holds it to her throat, with a look of desperation.
"Now, what would you accomplish by killing yourself?" I ask, shocked, even if it wasn't visible on my face.
"If you don't give me a job, you bastard, at least I'll dampen your sales by spilling my blood on this tile! Tell me, does this floor stain easily?"
"Lawliet…who is this crazy bitch?" Takada asks.
Misa shoots Takada a glare.
I paused. "Let me see your full profile. Your face could be a selling point, now that I see it."
Shocked by my sudden change of heart, she loosens the grip on the glass shard.
"Come forward, let me see your face." I urge. She reluctantly pulls forward, a blush spreading across her cheeks. She glows like she might have some chance, some hope. When her face is drawn, just a few inches from mine, is when I cease the chance. I grab her cheeks with one hand, and then hurl her into my lap. With the other hand I extricate the glass shard from hers, and then throw it across the room. I'm able to restrain her now.
She begins to bite and scratch and scream. "You're giving me an ear ache, god, shut up."
"LET ME GO! WAIT UNTIL I CALL MY LAWYER! WAIT UNTIL I SOIL THE REPUTATION OF THIS PLACE! THE OWNER IS A FILTHY PERVERT AND CAN'T KEEP HIS HANDS TO HIMSELF!"
"Yes," I say sarcastically. "And they'll all be shocked to hear that the owner of a strip club is a pervert. And then you can tell them about your little suicide charade and how it was my fault. Miya, put away the phone we're not calling the police. I'm too tired for this bullshit."
"You're not human…" Misa blubbers. "What are you? You can't be human…You don't even talk or look human…" You're one hundred percent right about that, Miss Amane. And it shocks me how quick you caught on. Years of practicing facial expressions and voice tones, I should have been impeccable in human manner. But not even I could fool myself. I could hear the emptiness in my voice even when I lilted it with feigned emotions.
Takada takes Miya's phone. "We'll call her a cab and then get the crazy bitch out of here."
I had to restrain Misa from tearing apart Takada.
"That…won't be necessary. I'll escort her upstairs, to my room."
Misa looks up, hopeful again.
"But, Lawliet…" Takada protested. She obviously had a mental image in mind of something sexual. She probably thought I was going to let Misa loose just so I could sex her up.
"No. Go home, Takada. You too, Miya and Rei. Your shifts are over. What I do in my spare time is my business."
Although hesitant, Takada left and I ushered Misa up the twisty stairs...
She observes my room, obvious disapproval. She takes my books, neatly stacked on the shelf, and throws them on the floor.
I stare at her.
"It was too clean in here." She explains, biting on her lip.
"Some people like it clean." I bend down and begin picking up the books. When I stand, I find her pulling off her clothes.
"Amane…" I warn.
"I'm giving you a live audition." She giggles. She pounces on me like a tiger and licks her lips. Her fingers fiddle with my zipper. Her lips travel down my neck. And as nice as it feels, I haven't encountered any species that could give me an erection. Her whole performance was wasted. Even killing small animals as a kid didn't do anything for me.
"I don't want an audition. I'm not giving you a job."
"Is it because I'm ugly?" She buries her face in her hands. Imagine this, a sociopath with no libido, being straddled by a naked train-wreck, who is sobbing due to unemployment. I'm just as confused as you are.
"By a humans standards…" I observe. Proportionate features, doe eyes, low percentage of body fat…"You're very attractive."
"Then…then w-why won't you give me a job?" She grinds her hand against my crotch. "I can be your personal call-girl. I…I'll do anything."
"I don't have a position..."
She snaps. "MAKE ONE! I'LL DO ANYTHING! Anything…" She changes back to a weeping demure woman. I've never encountered such a woman like her. She was the pure definition of emotion, and she just couldn't decide which one fit her. Suddenly, I felt a warm sensation. It was small, but there. And then…it happened. I looked down to see my pants lifted by the presence of a throbbing member.
Misa notices. "Are you…" She freezes. "GETTING A HARD ON BY MY EMOTIONAL DISTRAUGHT?"
"Possibly." I poke at my erection.
"You're some freak, aren't you?" Misa scurries against the wall, revolted. "You get off on that sort of thing don't you?"
The erection was throbbing more. I NEEDED sex. I've never needed intercourse. I knew the science of it. I had watched as my angels threw themselves at customers, taunting them with their sweet berries. But it just seemed so ludicrous that men spent their whole lives pursuing sex. I thought 'it can't be that great.' And even as a virgin, I feel compelled to have sex with this woman any way I can. I needed this member in some sort of compressed place that can suck out the buildup like a vacuum.
This feeling was once again a physical one, but it was still a feeling. A feeling I had never come across.
Lust.
I pulled off my jeans, pulled out my member. Had it always been that hot in here? I pulled off my shirt, because I began to perspire. Misa looked like a scared kitten, which turned me on more.
"Y…you're not into that sado-masochism bullshit…are you?" She quivered.
I walked towards her as though possessed. "You said you would do anything, Amane. Remember? Don't you want this job? I could get you a special place…" I whisper in her ear "Just fulfill this need of mine, and I'll fulfill any need of yours." I placed my hand in between her legs. It was sticky there, juices flowed out…
"Mmm…" She moaned. "A…any need?"
"Anything you desire."
