Disclaimer: Own Death Note Do Not I.

Warnings: This story is more spur-of-the-moment than a marriage in Las Vegas. That being said, it's unplanned, unpredictable, and may even be a one-shot that leaves you quite dissatisfied. If it were to continue, the unnamed character would probably be L, which would mean he is acting very very very OOC. This would also mean that the story would follow the path of an LxLight fic, which would mean this story is very much slash. Also, it's a vampire fic, which is so cliche I want to vomit, which may cause you, the reader, to vomit because that's just what happens when someone sees another person vomiting.

By the way, I have an essay due in eight hours. It just so happens that I can only come up with fiction ideas when I have to write a nonfiction essay.


Chapter 1

The river was completely frozen. Children had spent the day gliding over it with their blades, scratching at the surface, and there were shavings of ice as evidence of it. No duck dared glide over its surface nor indulge in the fish it had to offer. The river did not shine, because the clouds had taken over the sky. If there was any trickle of running water, the ice suppressed the sound and no one would hear it.

The buildings seemed to shrink reverently away from him as he paced the city streets. Snow crunched beneath his footsteps, sharp and forceful in his irritation. The ridiculous tradition of Daylight Savings had caused the humans to stay out an extra hour after sunset, and his hunger refused to adapt to the inconvenience.

Winter, as with most beasts, was not an agreeable season for Light. The prey was much scarcer, the slush was difficult to move through, and the ice dulled his senses. Even though his mutation granted him abilities and strengths greater than the average human, they were only enough to support his demanding nutritional requirements. Since his kind was an undead type, and did not actually reproduce, they had not been able to evolve and adapt to the world since their creation eight centuries ago. Conversely, humans had developed more and more ways to destroy people like him.

Light was quite a young vampire, only about seventy or so years turned. When he had first started out with his school friends, they had looked out for each other and survived. However, as technology developed and they had already lost a few friends, they realized it was better to go their separate ways, lest the humans manage to get them all in one fell swoop.

Light didn't regret the decision. Once he was able to ward off the anxiety of wondering how his friends were faring, there was much less strain on his mind and heart.

Still, winters were very cold.

Some vampires, to avoid these weather conditions, liked to store their food up during the other seasons. The catch was that the prey had to remain alive; the blood spoiled quickly if it wasn't flowing. The best blood was when the prey was healthy, but that also meant they could scream and cry and look altogether pathetic. Light preferred not to be bothered.

And that was why he was currently trekking the dimly lit streets, protected from the bite of snow by thick pants and a large black hoodie that made him look more like the type of prey he was trying to catch rather than a vampire (although vampires didn't really have any sort of dress code, despite what the silver screens said. He had enjoyed donning the cape and formal attire to Halloween parties back when he was still a part of society, though).

But he had been searching for several hours. Tokyo must be feeling especially civil lately; he hadn't found a criminal worth killing all night – or all month, really. He was about to resign himself to another foodless day, when he heard a sound a few blocks down. It sounded a bit like sobbing. Strange, he hadn't heard any blood flowing in that area. He followed the sound to behind an apartment complex, where there was a dumpster covered in snow and two figures hunched in front of it.

The first figure he saw was that of a woman – she was dead. Well, that explained why he never smelled hers. Blood that stopped flowing didn't make sound after all. He could see it, though and now that he was closer, he could smell it. He would have smelt it if the nights were warmer, but the freezing temperatures meant his sense of smell was not much better than the average human.

Even though the death seemed recent, the blood would have already staled. However, by this time Light was rather starving, and though it might upset his stomach a bit later, it was better than nothing.

He turned his attention towards the other figure, which was that of a man. To his surprise, the man was alive. Had he lost his ability to hear blood flowing altogether? No, it was there. For some reason it was faint, but there was blood in his veins keeping him alive. This would be a better meal, Light thought, but he had best check to be safe.

"Did you kill her?" he demanded.

The man shrunk back, and Light realized belatedly that the sound of sobbing had come from him, not the woman. "I didn't… I didn't want to!"

"But you did, didn't you?"

"If she hadn't resisted… I wouldn't have…"

Light's lips curled up in disgust. How dare he try to blame it on the victim? These types of criminals were some of the lowest.

"The likes of you… don't deserve to live."

The man's head shot up to stare at him, eyes full of tears, but Light had already taken action. He grabbed his head and bent it to expose the neck, and came down on it to bite. The skin was rather tough to get through for some reason. Still, his incisors were sharp for a reason, and he penetrated, waiting for the sweet liquid to come and soothe his thirst.

Which was why he was surprised to pull back, choking. He wiped his mouth, desperately trying to get the horrid taste of spoiled blood out of his mouth. "You taste… like death!" Light spat.

The man only stared at him with wide eyes, one hand grasping protectively the area Light had bit. "You… tried to eat me?"

"'Tried' being the key word," Light muttered. "God, you taste disgusting. What the hell are you made of?"

"Body parts."

Light rolled his eyes. "That's funny." Reluctantly, he turned back to the murdered woman. "I suppose this'll have to do, then." He slipped his arm around her shoulders and lifted her up. He could see that she was very beautiful. It was unfortunate that he couldn't save her. Gently he brushed her blonde locks aside and lowered his head. As expected, it was cold and a little bitter. But his stomach accepted the food eagerly. He licked every last drop, since he wouldn't know when his next meal would be. When he finished he pulled away, and he hefted the body over his shoulder and began to walk away.

"What are you doing with her?"

Light looked back. "What do you care, unless you're one of those sick necrophiles? I have to burn her body, don't I? Can't have the police find a body with blood missing that wasn't bled out and two puncture marks on the neck. They'd think there was a vampire around or something."

"You're a vampire?"

"Whether I confirm that or not doesn't matter. No one would believe you." He began to walk away again.

"Wait!" the man cried. "You aren't going to kill me?"

"I only kill when I'm hungry. You would just be a waste of time and energy. Turn yourself in if you're feeling guilty."

The man laughed. "So that's it. I'm not even good enough to kill…"

The miserable words and the self-deprecating laugh made Light turn back around curiously. The man was on his knees; he was not looking at him, but at the ground. Black locks of hair covered his face but Light could see something small and glistening drop from his trembling chin. Suddenly he had the feeling that he was not facing a mere cold-blooded (excuse the pun) murderer here.

"Hey. How did she die?"

"Didn't you say so yourself? I killed her."

"But how?"

With the hand that wasn't still covering his wound, he pointed at the dumpster. "She hit her head. Struggling against me, of course." Light looked at the dumpster. Indeed, there were bits of blood from the impact which matched with the injuries on the woman's head. Usually he would have noticed it. The hunger must have distracted him.

"Why didn't you just let her go?"

"I just wanted to talk to her!" he said. "I only grabbed her hand! But she couldn't even look at me because…"

"Because?"

"Who could look at this face?" was the bitter reply, and he lifted up his head. Light realized he hadn't seen his face yet because he either had his head bent or the shadows had covered it. At that moment, the clouds cleared and moonlight drifted through to reveal the man's face to Light.

Deep-set eyes, with watery ink-black pupils stared up at him. His lips were colorless, nearly indiscernible from sickly-looking skin.

Embedded into his skin were thick black stitches, running down his neck and underneath his scalp.

What the hell are you made of?


KK: I should probably note that my class recently read Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. Yeah. I gotta go do my homework now.