14 days, 19 minutes, 43 seconds.
That's the amount of time that has to pass before Light Yagami is executed.
Sitting in a cell in a maximum security prison, he wonders why Ryuk didn't just kill him. It would be simple.
But no. This is just a game for Ryuk, he is mere entertainment. He will watch the show until it is over, and when it becomes boring, he will make it interesting. But Ryuk is entertained enough with whatever L happens to be doing right now to fail to be helpful in any way whatsoever.
Stupid shingami could be blamed for this entire mess.
Light doesn't regret his coming, however. Light regrets the fact that he's lost. It's so appallingly, blatantly wrong that he, justice incarnate, is going to die like the ones he was ethically compelled to punish. The world is a defiled, broken, corrupt, disgusting place for sentencing him to this fate.
He's not even allowing himself to think about the fury infesting his mind. If he were to dwell on it, he would doubtlessly go insane.
The shinigami has been making the most unnecessary comments. Light has less than a month left to live, he's really not in a state to tolerate the useless shinigami's blather, but Ryuk just WONT GO AWAY. One is supposed to feel despair and anger and unspeakable dread at dying, but in addition, Light is bombarded with the additional feeling of extreme annoyance.
He focuses on it, for the sake of his sanity.
He refuses to be degraded into a lunatic by this immoral trash holding him here. If he had his Death Note, he would kill them all. He would make the trade with Ryuk and kill them all. He would seek L and watch him die. That would have to be retribution enough.
Ryuk laughs like a sick donkey. Hyuk, hyuk, yuk yuk yuk. That's the third time in the past 15 minutes of Light disregarding every world he said. This is not how he wanted to spend his last moments. Curse the shinigami. "Light, it's like you didn't even consider the possibility you were going to be caught."
"Shut up." Light snarls.
"Oh, so you can still talk." Ryuk remarks. "I was getting worried about you, Light. Apparently knowing your death is imminent does some… interesting things to humans."
Light chooses to use a great deal of explicit language at this point. I will not include it for your convenience.
"I don't suppose you could figure out a way to get me an apple in this place?" Ryuk asks, ignoring Light's ranting.
An idea strikes Light. An offer. Ryuk might agree. He just might. It's within his range of character, certainly. And it's worth trying. "Ryuk…"
"Light, I need an apple. I'm having apple withdrawls. I should go see L. Maybe he has an apple."
"Ryuk."
"What?" He asks.
"If I make the trade with you, will you give me your Death Note?" Shinigami eyes and a Death Note. That will gain him his freedom, if he does it correctly.
And of course he will.
Ryuk laughs. Light feels the sudden urge to hit his head on something.
"I thought you said you were never going to make the trade."
Light smirks. "This isn't over yet, Ryuk."
"So I give you my Death Note and eyes and you'll break out of prison by killing them all. Then what?" Ryuk asks with interest.
This sounds good. But Ryuk is unpredictable.
"Those who have wronged god must pay." Light answers, the intensity of Kira seeping back into his features. His eyes have gone hard with ruthless light. The giver of 'justice' is about to be given a second chance.
"Ooh, Light, you sound so superior again."
"This time, I will be victorious." He says with a maniacal grin, already planning, calculating.
Ryuk laughs again. "As much as your idea sounds fun, Light, this one is mine." Ryuk says, gesturing to the Death Note strapped to his leg. "You can't have it. Call the guard and ask him for an apple for me."
Are apples the only thing that motivates this hulking, floating, living curse?
"What, so they can see it disappear on the cameras? No one knows you exist, fool. They're sure I'm delusional."
Probably. Well, there's apples, boredom, and the possibility of entertainment.
"I don't care." Ryuk shrugs.
"I'll get you apples if you help me get out."
"Nope." He seems amused. What sick thoughts are going through his head?
I shall enlighten you.
Have you noticed that Light is strangely out of character? Our resident sadist, Ryuk, has noted this as well. He's quite fascinated by the effect desperation has on a human's way of thinking.
He's also entirely apathetic to it. (At this point, you might also choose to note that I don't particularly like Ryuk, and I don't think he shoulders enough blame for the incidents caused by the Death Note. A spectator instead of a player in the game. But look at it this way, if you please. He was the instigator. It all happened because he was bored enough to interfere with humans.)
Light grinds his teeth and glares at the clock down the hall through the thick iron bars. He has 14 days, 3 minutes, and 37 seconds to convince this satirical, sadistic shinigami to save his life.
He's Light Yagami. He can definitely do it, right?
Let's all take a moment of mocking, hysterical laughter.
X X X X X X X X X X X
L squats on the couch, consuming confectionaries like a vacuum for sugar. His eyes are glued to the television screen.
His name is already in the book, along with Watari's, Albier's, and Wedy's.
The reason he survived? He wrote his own name in the death note before Rem could. If someone's name is written in the death note twice, only the first death takes place, even if it's further away in the future than the second death. Writing someone's name in the Death Note sets their lifespan in stone.
It was too late for everyone else. The colossal failure made him very depressed. He didn't figure it out fast enough to win. He knows the very moment he will die. Enough time to be sure that the Kira case is completely closed. After such a failure, and being a sore loser, he lost the will to live for about… 10 minutes. A record for him.
His imminent doom doesn't weigh very heavily on his mind.
What does is the fact that he's a loser. He didn't win the best intellectual challenge he had ever encountered. So for the past 3 days, L has been sulking, eating sugar, and setting his affairs in order to die.
He was feeling rather depressed 10 minutes ago as well, but this horrific and singular event has pushed all of those things down on his list of importance.
A mass murder. 53 people dead in the middle of the day, surrounded by witnesses, no killers spotted, no weapons identified, nothing. And it all happened in the space of 10 seconds.
The crime scene is in a mall in North America. A small one, as American malls go. The large, indoor area spacious and simple. There are three fountains in it, the floor was of large sheets of marble tile. Benches against the walls and the display windows of the stores. The area has 12 stores, six on each side, all the same size. The ceiling is high, and there is a skylight to provide lighting during the day instead bright ceiling lights. No one in the stores was killed. All the fatalities happened in the hall. There, people were slaughtered without discretion. The deaths were caused by broken necks and fatal bodily damage, but there's next to no blood at the scene of the crime.
There were 4 witnesses, only four people standing in that hall, outside a store, that lived. They appear to be random survivors.
No entrances or exits were disturbed.
The only thing that was witnessed during the attack besides people dropping like stones were random, flashing illusions of color and brightness.
It's completely illogical and totally impossible.
Challenge Accepted.
There was certainly more than one thing causing the death. The people seem to drop randomly, but when L slows down the video until the events are shown 8 times slower, it's clear that there seems to be an order to which the victims are falling over.
There are three. Three things are killing the victims, attacking whichever one happens to be close to it at that point. L can't see the things, they're moving so fast that not even a blur is captured in most places. He can merely tell where they are, or where they were instants before, by the trail of death they leave. The illusions, when they appear, are directly followed by the trail of the destruction. The illusions are the things, moving at speeds too fast to be captured on a camera. The illusions are the things causing the fatalities. Or so it appears.
98 percent chance that the killers have supernatural methods.
However, this is definitely a new method. Not a Death Note. He swallows a bite of cake, restarting the film. He's trying to tell what the things are, whether they are solid or something else entirely. He hacked into the FBI files and downloaded all their information concerning the case. They're clueless.
The authorities would undoubtedly like L a great deal less if they knew just how often he used their files like they belonged to him, and how often he blatantly disregards the words 'confidential' and 'classified'.
They would probably like L a great deal less if they knew anything more about him then they already do. And they already don't like him all that much, actually.
But he's the world's most brilliant detective; they can shut up and deal with him.
From crime scene photos, it appears that the methods of killing mimic martial art.
The weapons are at least somewhat humanoid, he determines that from looking at the crime scene photos. Superhumans? Human weapons? Such is science fiction, but the Kira case certainly affirmed the existence of the supernatural.
Why wouldn't much blood be spilled?
The killers didn't want blood everywhere, the victims were killed specifically in ways that wouldn't spill blood, even when it would've been more convenient and horrifying to make a bloody mess. Blood most certainly has an effect on the orchestrator and/or the means of slaughter, either physically or mentally. The spilling of it is kept to a minimum.
There are much better targets for terrorism than a mall, and an attack on a small place such as a mall isn't as difficult to cover up. Not an act of terror then, as bad and threatening as it was, it could have easily been much more gruesome.
What was this person, this killer trying to achieve by slaughtering innocents? It's a little over the top for a cover-up of a crime, it's not an act of terrorism… therefore this is not an act against the US government and the perpetrator was not trying to get the attention of the US government.
L scratches his foot with his toes and sucks on his fork, finished with his cake. When you have no leads, start working with logic.
They definitely wanted to get someone's attention; one does not simply slaughter innocents for no reason whatsoever. And they left clues unattainable through witness, the patterns of the killing weapons, through the security cameras which would have been easy to destroy. So they do want someone on this case.
The government seems to be of secondary importance to the perpetrator. The attack was actually not about them.
Who is this crime supposed to provoke? That's the question for now.
L consults a list picks up his phone to make a crucial call. He has to do it himself when Watari is asleep.
"Hello?" His states monotonously. "Please send ten of every desert on the menu to room 203. Leave it outside the door."
There's some response of shock on the other line.
"Yes, I happen to be aware of the cost, it's conveniently displayed on this menu listing all the items you have for purchase, sir."
X X X X X X X X X X
She sits, still a frozen figure on the couch. The cushions sag, the room smells of mildew and dirt. She's short; her feet don't quite reach the ground. The decrepit basement they've been living in is nothing fancy, it doesn't have to be. It doesn't matter, so long as it serves its purpose. Place to hide during the day.
Amari has been pacing for 2 days straight, springing back and forth across the room in mere instants, and then freezing, and pacing at paces fluctuating from as slow as human to as fast as sprinting. She can't stay still, unlike the one on the couch.
She's tall, with a narrow face and long fingers. Her eyes are narrow, but not hostile. Her jet-black hair is wavy, increasingly wavy as it progresses down her back, until it becomes wild, loose curls as it reaches her knees. It's surprisingly untangled, considering Amari doesn't do anything to maintain it. She looks to be in her mid to late twenties.
She has someone on her mind again.
Already. Usually there's at least a few years between Amari's spells of compulsion, usually a century or two, and Quinn is newborn.
Right now, Amari is in the stage where she's feeling the urge, but has no idea who is going to fulfill it this time. Nothing about them. Therefore, she's distressed. It's clear from her body language.
Quinn has been playing a videogame on his DS, sitting cross-legged on the rickety, rotting wooden table in the disgusting, dirty kitchenette.
Normally, they don't keep Amari's newborns. But this one isn't exactly Amari's, this one is Azia's. Amari hadn't had an urge as strong as the one she got from Quinn since Jane and Alec, or Azia herself.
Amari's urge disappears the moment she bites the human, so she usually just abandons them to change instants after biting them with a note for explanation. When she doesn't kill them. It's misery when she does, she's depressed for years, sometimes until she gets a new compulsion.
With Quinn, Azia did a little research. And a little spying. And she decided she wanted him. So she changed him herself and she took him.
Amari really didn't care. Nor did she mind when Quinn joined their little coven.
She doesn't care, as long as the human is bitten and the mind-possessing urge is satisfied. Azia takes more interest in her gift than she does, she enjoys tracking the humans, changing the humans, waiting to find out what their gifts will be.
Azia is also the unofficial coven leader, because Amari is usually too zoned out to make or care about any relevant decisions. Amari isn't a very down-to-earth person, she cares more for what's happening inside her mind more than anything around her.
And Quinn is a newborn. And has… Quinn moments.
Quinn snaps the thing shut and drops it on the table as he leaps off it. He lands lightly on the couch next to Azia. He has a very spicy, slightly sweet smell, and red eyes that glow with the human blood that lingers in his body. He's only a few months old.
"Hey Azi." Quinn has an infectious personality. He's the guy that all of the girls fangirl over in school because he's so cool and handsome and funny and nice and goofy and sweet and easygoing. And also oblivious to his charm, and the way he affects people. Social guy who gets along with everyone. He could've had his little world wrapped around his fingers, but he was a little laid back for manipulation.
Until now, of course. The way he can affect people is near impossible to ignore.
"Quinn." She answers formally. Azia isn't very social. Poor Quinn, antsy newborn stuck in the basement with two antisocial vampires.
"You wanna go hunt?"
"No."
"I found the best spot. I'll show it to you."
"No. I don't need to. Go yourself if you must."
"What, do you not like blood all the sudden?" He asks jokingly.
"Have some respect for human life, Quinn." Azia snaps.
He would blush if he could at being chastised. Quinn is 15, but sometimes he seems much, much younger. "Sorry."
She doesn't reply, just nods, opens a book and starts reading silently. Her pile is diminishing, she reads too fast.
Quinn is wishing she would read aloud. She read aloud to him frequently when he was human, but she's only done so a few times since his change. He's not going to ask her to though, that's a little too childish. So he just leans over her shoulder to watch the book.
Of all the people Quinn has met, he has the most complicated relationship with Azia. Quinn is a magnet for people. He's the one everyone wants to hang out with, the one who is part of every social group, all inclusive, first to invite the new person over.
He's met shy people before, who remained quiet and reserved, but over time, they all warm up to everyone, get comfortable, start coming out of their shells without him pulling them out.
But Amari and Azia… they haven't. Amari has addressed him exactly once over the course of the past 3 months, and usually completely ignores him whenever he says anything to her. Azia… is someone he wants attention from more than he's ever wanted attention from anyone else. They're exact opposites, and that's very interesting.
In the hospital, everyone was in mourning for him, like they were determined to have his funeral before he actually died. Azia came at night, after the hospital was closed. She didn't tell him how sorry she was, how terrible it was, anything like that.
Have you ever met someone you become close friends with instantly? One that you could trust with your life within moments of meeting? Your personalities just click like two puzzle pieces, just the way they are. Perfect fit.
The occurrence is a rare one.
It's also what happened between human Quinn and Azia.
Now, since he changed, she seems even less interested in him than before, and that bothers him. Azia spent more time focused on him when he was just a human dying in a hospital. She used to read to him and play board games with him and sing him to sleep in that white room, in the darkest hours of the night.
Not anymore. It's like she doesn't even like him anymore. The sudden shift doesn't make sense. It's like she's a completely different person.
Amari paces. The sun sets. Azia clicks her lighter on and off, all through the night. The pile of unread books becomes the pile of read books. Not a word is said. The sun rises, the sun sets again.
Just as Azia is shutting the last page of the last book, Amari freezes.
She takes a shaky breath. "Azi."
They both look up.
"I have to change this human." She realizes.
It's a conclusion, a revelation. As if they didn't know all along.
"Eureka!" Quinn shouts, clapping his hands together.
Amari stares at him like he has two heads.
Then she slowly turns away from him, to the east, pivoting on her toes. "Japan…" She murmurs. She whirls back around. "We have to go now. His time is short… their time is short, both of them."
"Their's… two." Azia asks, raising her eyebrows.
"Let's go." Amari says, getting up and striding at a quick pace.
Azia leaps off the couch and falls in behind her. "Quinn, come." She orders.
Quinn gets up and follows. "So we're just leaving. To go to Japan."
"Yes."
Quinn shrugs. "Cool."
X X X X X X X X X X
A random note, regarding the relationships of the Phantom Coven.
(Not exactly essential to the plotline, but you'll get more out of the story if you read it)
Let's get this out of the way. Azia and Quinn are not romantically inclined in any way, shape, or form. It would be sick if they were.
And yes, they are all friends, Azia and Amari are just sociopaths. Amari is disconnected, and Quinn does have an effect on Azia, when Azia meets another vampire her typical reaction is to death glare at them until they flee while flicking her lighter on and off. She also refuses to engage in any conversation but snarling, growling, and rude, sarcastic, cynical banter that makes everyone want to stay away from her.
Only half the things she says to Quinn are cynical and sarcastic, and she doesn't leave the room the moment he walks in, a feat that was only achieved by Amari before he showed up.
Azia tends to act like she utterly despises anyone that doesn't immediately provoke her interest, because frankly, she doesn't like being around uninteresting people.
So in reality, she finds Quinn a very interesting person to analyze and likes him… and doesn't take him for granted as much as it seems. Azia is not a person you can interpret normally, therefore I've interrupted the story (bad author! Go lie down!) for the sake of this explanation, to avoid becoming an author that makes you go 'O.o I don't get these characters.'
Of course, Amari couldn't care less if Quinn was present or not, because half the time she doesn't notice that he exists. #oblivious
Anyway, let's visit L, because he's awesome.
X X X X X X X X X X
Four days later
X X X X X
Another attack. Yesterday. 73 dead, 12 seconds. Midday, the illusions attacked a small-town amusement park.
Then they disappeared, without a trace, as before.
L gnaws on his thumb.
Judging from the crime scene photos though, these were three different weapons, none of the marks are the same size, they were made by 3 new sets of hands.
So now there are six.
L stations himself in front of a computer. Deduction is essential to being a detective, but a lot of it is research. That's what encourages his insomnia, all those hours of sorting through information. His new Watari has already gotten him all the information she could on the incident.
She's competent, she's very good for what he needs in the way of diplomatic relations. But she's not Wammy. Rena, Wammy's granddaughter and Watari's successor is already asleep, it's about 2 am.
He starts accounting for every person in the park. Their car, their ticket purchase, who they were with, if they lived.
Everything is checking out. He's beginning to consider that these superweapons don't use technology in order to make it harder for them to be tracked.
But no attack is truly without evidence, a way to trace it back.
An all-nighter is required, yet again. Cake shall be necessary.
X X X X X X X X X X
A/N: READ DIS.
I'll be updating pretty fast, at least in the beginning, because I actually wrote about forty pages of this story in a violent fit of obsessive writing disorder, I just have to edit them because everything I write has this terrible tendency to turn out more crappy than I intend it to be =-=''''
I'm sorry if I don't have L's character quite right, it's hard to get in his head and he's like, a billion times smarter than Rix will ever be TT-TT So all my intelligent deduction from him is common sense made to sound smart with big words.
The Volturi will come into the story later, I think it will be quite fun to watch L outsmart them all, and Amari and Azia annoy the heck out of them (insert trollfaced troll) I also have plans to make the Cullens and L's successors (or at least Near) get involved.
To be cliché, review, flame, praise, critique, suggest, anything goes, don't be afraid to be obnoxious or sound arrogant or offend me. I want to know what people think about the series, getting someone else's attention is what makes it worth it for me as the totally amateur author I am.
Rixchan is just happy to get any reaction at all, or any sign that someone is reading this, even. ^u^
Oh, and especially suggest. I'm about 40 pages into this story, but I have a slight writers block (knows what's going to happen, is too lazy to write it for lack of knowing how to make it interesting) so anything you want to see, (if anyone is reading this) I'll try to take it into consideration.
The only things I don't do are explicit romance and yaoi, and probably some other stuff I'm forgetting.
Rixchan apologizes for her incredibly long and most likely impossibly boring authors note. It wasn't exactly necessary for you to read it all, (I lied, Rixchan is a liar if you haven't noticed)
Finally, the cake is not a lie. I don't care what portal said, if they said the cake was a lie they're totally wrong and doing it wrong.
~Thankschu, sincerely from your Rix~