Summary: Let's face it: compared to most other fictional serial killers, Kira's kind of a wimp. DN / Sleepaway Camp crossover.
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or Sleepaway Camp, but I do pimp them both heavily.
A/N: If you aren't familiar with Sleepaway Camp, it's a series of campy – pun intended – slasher flicks, starring one of my favorite movie killers ever, Angela Baker. (The Angela in this fic is mostly based on SC 2 and 3.)
This was actually written in like 2008, btw. And yes, it's all crack. Enjoy!
Sleepaway Note
Light looked away at last from the neatly written names between college-ruled lines, sighing to himself as he silently counted off another forty seconds. It was a lovely autumn day, the air so fresh and crisp that he could not help but believe that these last few days of cleansing the world of evil had something to do with it. Already everything seemed so much more hopeful, and yet...
After his hasty misjudgment the other day, after he had allowed that bastard L to call him out on television, he was inconsolable. Even just glancing around the empty park, this run-down park that used to host only muggers and bums, he could see the fruits of his labor. He had worked so hard to clear the walkways and playgrounds of such vermin, but where were all the joggers, the mothers and children? Why were the people not out enjoying this new safety he had won for them? After that day, people had become more afraid of him, of their god and savior, than of the criminals he was protecting them from. After everything he had done, the ungrateful simpletons were tricked by some fancy television program. Typical.
"Oi, Light," Ryuk said, his face suddenly appearing upside down before him. Light, used to the shinigami's tricks by now, only rolled his eyes and sat back on the bench.
"What is it now?" he asked aloud, uncaring about the volume of his voice since there was no one around anyway. Idly, he refolded the newspaper from which he had gathered his latest victims and tucked it neatly between the pages of his notebook.
"Just wondering..," the lanky creature pondered, hovering upside down in the air above him. "You kind of zoned out there. Getting bored of the Death Note already?"
"Of course not," the teen snapped, vainly running his fingers through his auburn hair, though the breeze had done nothing to disturb it in all the time they had been here. Ryuk rotated midair until he was right side up again, landing softly on his feet in front of the bench. He towered over Light, but even his fearsome appearance did nothing to hide his effective subordinance to the arrogant youth.
"So what is it, then?" he asked, the long clawed finger he held at his mouth only further distorting his deep, grainy voice.
"Ugh," Light huffed, frustration evident on his face as he found himself having to explain his thoughts to the rather dense shinigami yet again. "It's nothing, really. I just have to wonder sometimes if the rest of the world is too stupid to understand that what I'm doing is for their benefit. I feel like I'm the only intelligent person left on this planet sometimes..."
He fell silent, noticing an odd twinkle in Ryuk's eye. Following the gaze of the bulging, dead orbs, he could see that his supernatural companion was no longer looking at him, but behind him.
"Kimi wa kitto hitori ja nai," said an androgynous, heavily accented voice, "Kira-san."
Eyes narrowed with malice, Light shoved the Death Note and newspaper into his jacket, jerking around backwards to see...
A girl. A rather plain-looking girl at that, perhaps just a couple of years older than himself, standing calmly behind his bench. In his split-second initial assessment of her, he decided that she was foreign, probably American from her accent and the faded blue jeans, baggy tee shirt, and dirty sneakers she wore. She was obviously lower class as well, and carried only a ratty-looking backpack. Her hair was a messy, brown poof, and her face was worn – probably from lack of sleep, unless he had estimated her age incorrectly...
"Who the hell are you?" he growled, taking a chance on his assumptions and addressing her in English. She smiled pleasantly down at him.
"Well, I hoped I'd said that right, but I guess it doesn't matter since you speak English," she told him with a grin.
"Answer the question," he demanded, instinctively tightening his grip on the pen he still held in his right hand.
"Oh, right, how rude of me," she said casually, skirting around the bench and sitting down beside him, dumping her bag heavily on the seat next to her. "My name's Angela. I guess you could say I'm a fan of yours."
"Angela, huh?" he said with a smirk. "Angela what?"
"Angela Baker," she said with a confident grin. "I'm kind of famous back home, ever heard of me?" Light ignored her, grinning maniacally as he pulled the Death Note from his jacket. He didn't know how she had figured out that he was Kira, but she would be silenced soon enough...
"Say, what're you doing there?" she asked, curiously trying to peek at the sleek black notebook as Light artfully blocked the title with his arm. "You want my autograph or something?"
He could barely keep himself from laughing. This was just too easy...
"That's exactly what I want," he said, mustering up the most charming smile he could as he struggled to keep a straight face. He opened the notebook to a blank page and held it up to her, offering up the pen in his other hand. She happily took the pen, grinning widely, and began to scribble out her name.
"I'm really flattered that you've heard of me," she beamed, "but I suppose we're in the same line of work after all, eh, Kira-san?"
"Stop calling me that!" he hissed, glancing around the still empty park furiously. Ryuk was chuckling noisily, still standing beside him. Light shot him a dirty look after he was convinced that no one was around to have overheard the impetuous girl.
"Yeah, you see, that's the problem with you," Angela told him, lounging back on the bench and crossing her legs, twirling his pen carelessly in her fingers. "Your methods are clean, but you're a coward."
"Excuse me?!" he exclaimed, eyes wide and menacing as he sat up tall, gaining just a couple of inches over her. "You have no idea the risks I've taken to..."
"Risks? You?" She burst out laughing in his face. He bared his teeth at her, only stopping himself from snapping and striking her by sheer force of will.
"Ah, you really crack me up, Kira-san," she said when her laughter subsided, wiping at her eyes. "If you took some real risks, you could certainly accomplish amazing things, but you don't take any. You may have killed plenty of people already, but you're spending all your energy on keeping yourself hidden..."
Light stayed quiet, glancing back and forth between his watch and the still laughing Ryuk. Just five more seconds...
"Now, the way I see it," she continued, "if you'd just get over the fear of getting caught, you'd be unstoppable. Seriously, what would the police do to a guy who can apparently kill with psychic powers, huh? Wrap tin foil around your head?"
Ryuk laughed even harder as the remaining seconds ticked on by, and Light looked over at him with an outright sneer. Of course, she must have given him a false name – why couldn't the shinigami just tell him these things? Neutral or not, shouldn't it be his responsibility to help out the owner of the Death Note?
"Yo, mister God complex!" Angela said, poking at his head and sending a few strands of hair tumbling out of their perfect placement.
"What?!" he roared, no longer bother to hide his rage under the guise of the charming young scholar Light Yagami. His eyes flashed red, piercing into her neutral brown ones with pure hatred – with the true wrath of Kira. She only quirked up an eyebrow at him, her lips pouting at the outburst.
"It's really very rude to ignore someone when they're talking to you," she scolded, standing up from the bench. Seething, he watched her unzip her backpack and reach her arm into it.
"And what of it, Angela?" he sneered.
"You'd be so much more effective if you weren't so worried about saving your own skin..," she trailed off, slowly drawing a long machete from her bag. "Or if you cared more for your cause than you did about gaining power, Kira."
Light jumped up off the bench, anger forgotten as panic overtook him. He stumbled backwards, passing thoughtlessly right through Ryuk's immaterial body.
"Sh-sh-shit!" he stuttered, hardly noticing as the Death Note and newspaper fell out of his jacket. She trounced up confidently to him, grasping at his shirt collar before he could convince his shaking legs to run. Even Ryuk was struck silent by the sudden change in the girl's demeanor; even he could not laugh at such a turn of events. If nothing else, though, it would keep him from having to kill the boy himself when all was over...
"Wh-what the hell are you doing?" Light squeaked as Angela held the rusty weapon up at shoulder-level.
"I just think something ought to be done," she said with a grin, "about that big head of yours."
Ryuk stared down with his dead-looking bug eyes at the Death Note lying on the ground, wondering if he should take it now and be on his way. This girl, though, might prove an even more interesting owner for it than Light had been...
"Ryuk!" he heard the teen crying out, "for God's sake, Ryuk, do something!"
"Who are you talking to?" Angela wondered, taking a moment to look about, though she kept a surprisingly strong grip on Light in doing so.
"Please, Ryuk!" he begged, tears welling up in his intelligent eyes. "Come on, just kill her for-!"
The sound died in an instant, cut off by the sickening sound of the dirty blade slicing through both flesh and bone. The last breath Light would ever take was released into the chilly air without ever reaching his mouth, an exhale gurgled up from his throat in bubbles of syrupy blood as his body fell heavily to the ground. Even the shinigami turned his head away from the sight.
"Damn," Angela muttered to herself. "Guess it's a good thing I packed extra clothes..." She turned back toward the bench, wiping the bloody machete on her already-stained pants. She stopped suddenly, stumbling back a step as she discovered a tall black figure blocking her path. Curious eyes came calmly up to rest on the creature's clownish face.
"I take it you're Ryuk, then?" she surmised, walking around him to the bench. He followed her, watching with great interest as she stashed the machete back into a leather holster inside her backpack.
"You're not afraid of me?" Ryuk wondered aloud, twisting around at an odd angle to get a peek at whatever other weapons she might have in her bag. "Not even surprised?"
"A little," she admitted, taking another quick look around before peeling off her blood-soaked tee shirt. "But I knew there had to be something weird involved here. He killed that guy on TV the other day without even being there, right?"
"Huh," the shinigami mused, looking as sadly as his grotesque face could on the body lying crumpled in a pool of dark blood a few yards from them. "Light said he wasn't surprised to see a shinigami come after the notebook, but even he looked pretty scared at first, hyuk hyuk hyuk..."
"Notebook..," she muttered, pulling a clean shirt out of her bag and over her head. "You mean the one he had me sign my name in?"
"That's the one," he confirmed, pointing a long black claw at the notebook forgotten on the ground behind her. "Since you killed Light, you're the new owner of my Death Note. The new Kira, you could say."
Still holding the dripping shirt in one hand, Angela turned and bent down to retrieve the slim book, looking over the oddly etched lettering and peeking at the first couple of rules written inside the cover. Ryuk floated around to stand in front of her, making her shiver when his arm passed effortlessly through her. She looked up at him with a smirk, tucking the book beneath her arm.
"Well, a notebook's not as exciting as my usual methods, I'll admit, but in my own way..," she began, stepping lightly over to the corpse. Ryuk watched in fascination as she scooped up Light's severed head, eyes still desperately open and pleading, into her soiled shirt and wrapped it up with expert care. She looked over her shoulder and flashed him a grin.
"I've been Kira since I was fourteen."
A/N: This was originally written as the first chapter for a longer story (5 chapters total, maybe), where the rest would be Angela just wreaking havoc and... well, being herself with Kira powers. But I lost interest... I probably got distracted writing angsty fics. I do love the angst.
I have no plans to continue this, so I'm just calling it a silly oneshot. :P