Dead man's Wish
Chapter 1
He stared out at nothing. Black. Black. Black. Blotches of red. Was it blood? No, it couldn't be. He wasn't hurt anywhere. Or at least he didn't feel the pain. He tried to move, but felt his body locked in place confined, trapped. He tried to open his mouth to scream but as soon as he tried to use his vocals, gurgling sounds came from his mouth as blood spilled over, onto his pale face. His wide eyes stared into the bloody black nothingness in front of him. Slowly he picked up the sound of laughing, no cackling. It was a guttural sound, filled with malice. He kept listening as the blood kept spilling over from his open mouth.
When will it stop? He thought warily. Why? Who is it? Where are you? WHY?
His head started to beat rather than his heart. It was pounding, first on the inside and then all around him. It kept going at a rhythmic pace as he tried once more to scream over the fountain of blood. The pain was searing. Lighting every nerve in his body on fire over and over again. He didn't deserve this, he thought. The evil cackling continued on in the background, laughing at his fruitless struggle. He didn't deserve this.
But it wouldn't stop. The pounding, the burning, the laughing, the blood. It refused to stop.
All at once a blinding light overcame his senses. He saw no more, black or red, heard no more laugh, felt no more stinging burns. The light was taking it all away from him. All of it. He was safe. He was safe.
No. the light was flooding now. It was no more a gentle light. No more was the light erasing the evil; it was overflowing with the evil itself. It seemed to him that the light was entering his body once more. Rather than dulling his senses as it once had, it peaked them to their highest point. He saw all. He felt all. Heard all.
It kept going into his body, quickly and rapidly.
And all at once it exploded.
XxX
"… We report from the inside of the victim's home, as he tells us about his struggle with the burglars who had entered his home last night…"
Ugh, there's absolutely no good shit to watch on T.V. nowadays…
The relaxed bulky body stared at the news channel with a dazed gaze. Outside it was pouring, but that was to expect in the late January. The drops gave a soft hum around the empty apartment besides the T.V. set. The man had his blonde hair tousled in a messy flop on his head as he wore his white t-shirt and sweats. To his right was a stand that only carried a pack of cigarettes and an ashtray that was half full of crush cigarettes. In his right hand he carried the remote but said hand was limp with boredom. The man's mocha eyes were fixed on some random point around the T.V. as he just stared off onto space. The T.V. kept blaring at him but the man didn't seem to mind at all.
BOOM BOOM
Loud thunder blared outside of his window. The man jumped up in surprise from the interruption as the remote dropped to the ground. He stared outside for a couple of seconds at the steady downpour, as more clouds rolled in.
"Jeez…" The man bent down to pick up the dropped remote on the ground. He slowly got back up to his couch and attempted to focus his attention once more on the T.V.
"…Now we are on Kami Street at the Shinigami Hotel and Casino. Recently police have found a dead body in one of the rooms. This body has a slit at the throat which police believe to be the cause of the death but bruises are also to be found over the body. The man may have been suicidal, because police say that he was carrying a switchblade in his left hand. We are yet to know the identity of the man but…Oh wait, I'm getting news that the identity of the dead person is Orihira Izaya and he was said to be killed around….."
The man's eyes opened in shock as the remote slipped from his hands and fell to the floor. Thunder striked the sky but the man's eyes stayed wide open, paralyzed. His mouth slightly open and his brain cut off all responses to anything else.
Identity of the dead person… Orihira Izaya…slit at the throat…dead…dead…
Suddenly the man burst out laughing, his deep voice filling the empty apartment. He kept laughing as more thunder beat in the sky.
"Izaya can't be dead…just a publicity stunt…" he choked in between gasps of air. "Can't be dead...can't…fleas don't die that easily…"
"…We do not have any suspects yet for the death of for this may prove to be a suicidal case, but police say they are investigating it and will thoroughly conduct a search around the area for more victims…"
The man glared at the T.V. He slipped from his seat and strode over to the set. He put both hands on either side of the T.V. and crushed it together in a clapping motion. Static sizzled out the T.V., stuttering its last few moments of life. The man scowled at the destroyed piece of technology.
"I don't wanna hear that kind of bullshit…" the man angrily whispered.
I know, I'll call Shinra and ask him, the man decided. He paced over to the phone in the kitchen. Quickly, he dialed the numbers he knew so well and let the phone ring until a new voice answered.
"Hello?" the voice questioned.
"Hey Shinra, I heard this bullshit nonsense on the news that the fuckin flea tried to die. What kind of fuckin publicity stunt is he trying to pull? You should tell the goddamn thing to suck up his problems and deal with it. Or let himself die in my hands. Seriously then he'll not only be servicing the nation but me as well," the man Grinned into the phone.
The other line was dead quiet, only breathing to be heard.
"Hey, Shinra?" the blonde warily questioned. "Shinra?"
"Shizuo…Izaya is dead." The voice had finally answered him.