Disclaimer: Remmy18 doesn't own Death Note, the *dream bag recipe, or any Blue is for Nightmares. Nope. She does not.
Author's Note: So, this is my first FanFic. It's not perfect, I'm sure there's grammar errors.
I would dedicate this to my wonderful friend, Maiden of Autumn, who is the greatest author and friend I have ever known, but she has recently disowned me from not knowing the Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit. *Smirks at Maiden* Ice for that burn, my dear? KEKEKEKE!
Enjoy!
Light waited until Sayu and his mother were asleep before locking his door and opening his window curtains to let the bright moonlight in. He switched his desk lamp on, light casting a soft glow in the room and turned towards his bed, grabbing a small duffle bag from underneath. Sitting on the ground, he laid out a medium wooded mixing pot, lavender oil, a rosemary branch, a piece of paper, a marker, a plastic sandwich bag, a blue candle, and a yellow crayon.
He lit the blue candle and stared at the flame. What are my dreams telling me? What do they mean? He meditated on that question for a minute. My dreams will bring me the answer. I just need to connect the dots. He looked at his ingredients and then got started.
He poured the lavender oil into the mixing pot and stated, "To purity and to clarity." He sat the bowl away and wrote with the yellow crayon his question before folding the paper and placing it inside the plastic bag. He plucked the marker off the ground and wrote the question on his hand. It never hurt to be cautious.
He was about to work on the rosemary branch when he heard a noise and jumped. He froze. Shit, was that his dad? He thought he was spending the night at the station again, working on a blasted case! His heart dropped to his stomach when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs and Light panicked. His dad would not appreciate seeing his son up in the middle of the night doing god-knows-what, but if he learned it was a spell, he'd be royally screwed.
Maybe he'll be so tired he won't notice the light under the door. Light's heart stopped as footsteps walked up the stairs and stopped at his door. Light heard father's feet shifted, paused, and finally, leave. He gave a sigh of relief. Thank God! He turned towards the rosemary branch and plucked 28 needles, placing them in the pot.
"Rosemary, hold strong my dreams full of wonder, as I lay me down to slumber." He muttered, mixing the oil and rosemary slowly with his finger. He focused on his question and dreams. He'd been getting nightmares for the past two weeks, and always it was the same dream. A tall guy covered head to toe in black clothing, carrying a black notebook in one hand, and a blood red apple in the other as thousands of people around him dropped dead on the ground. Most had clutched their chests, but others had took a knife or a gun to themselves. A chill ran up Light's spine as the figure lifted his head and met his gaze. Terror ran through him as pure red eyes glared out at him, as if he wanted to kill Light, but couldn't do so.
He would wake up than, panting as if he ran a marathon and shivering despite the sweat over his body, scared out of his wits. Whoever—whatever—that figure was, it was the closest thing to evil he would ever know.
Light shivered at the thought and poured the mixture into the plastic bag. He zipped it up and placed it under his pillow. He visualized himself waking up in the morning, refreshed and calm, knowing what to do and what his dreams just meant. With that in mind he said, "With strength of the moon and the stars and the sun, as I do, it shell be done. Blessed be the way."
He paused for a moment before grabbing some lavender sleep spray and putting some on his pillow. He blew out the candle and placed it on his nightstand and put the bowl and the rest of the rosemary in the duffle, leaving the crayon and marker to be picked up tomorrow. He got in bed and looked out at the moon, praying that things weren't as bad as they seemed to be heading.
Out in the city in Japan, a man stared intensely at his computer screen at the list of criminals. It was decided. He was going to do it. He was going to kill a group of murderers that should have been handled a long time ago. Rage filled him as he thought of how flawed the legal system was, and how it releases monsters into society filled with decent people. How no one really cared for those people who would get hurt.
But he cared. And he was going to do something about it. Starting tonight. He grabbed the pen and wrote, ignoring the shinigami amused laughter in the background.
Well, there it is! My first story!
Leave any comments or critics below.
*The dream bag recipe is from Laurie Stolarz website.