Hi everyone! I was really in the mood for writing in English these days, I decided that sooner or later I'll have to learn how to do it properly... anyway, I had to write a prequel for a ling-fic I'm writing, and... well, it was a good chance for me to practice! So, that's it. It probably doesn't make much sense if read alone, because it would be intended to be the prequel for another story... the ending is not a real 'ending'... it's more of a beginning!

Anyway, this could be read also as a story itself, so I decided to try publishing it.

If anyone read it and would like to read also the story, let me know... I'd really like to publish it, but I should translate it first and that would be a HARD job, because it's long!

One last thing, there's an OC in this. I have to apologize about that. Most people don't like reading about OCs and neither do I. But this time... I couldn't keep myself from writing it! Anyway, she's not totally a silly goose like many OCs out there...

she's a bit more childish here, in the beginning, but then, as the story goes on, she gets better. Poor girl, actually not very pleasant things happen to her as the story goes on... see, she is already punished by the storyline. Please, give this poor unfortunate a chance!

AH, just to be precise, since it doesn't follow the canon timeline: the characters' years of birth have been changed- to read the prequel, just if you were curious about it, it's enough to know that L's birth in my story is set on 31 October 1983. The OC's birth is on 14 September 1988.

So... of course, I don't own Death Note or its chacacters- if I did, Mello would be now sitting next to me, taking his leather pants off and smirking mischievously-

Enjoy the story!

CHAPTER 1: First meeting

June 28, 2008

She sat down for a short break, holding her hot coffee. This had been a long day. Another victim from the Butcher.

That's how the press called him: the Butcher. Now that she had seen his work, she understood why they had chosen that alias.

Taking a deep breath she watched to the people around her. Young or old, men or women, rich or poor, they were all equals to her. All equals in front of Death.

Someone was calling her name from the Intensive Care ward. She headed for the sliding doors that separated the world as everybody knows it from her world, one of pain, sorrow, and death.

.

- What's up?

She asked to one of the nurses.

- That detective from the FBI arrived. Oh, no... he said... it was FBI or Interpol, I can't remember...

- It doesn't matter... but where is he?

The woman shrugged her shoulders as to say 'I've no idea'.

She swallowed the last sip of her coffee and headed for Katy's room.

.

Katy was 17 years old. She was coming back home from her dance class, that Friday, when the Butcher kidnapped her.

.

She strartled when she saw a dark haired man in the teenage's room. He was bent on the girl's unconscious body.

She jumped into the room and stalked towards the man.

- Who are you? It isn't allowed to stay here! This girl's condition is extremely severe...

- I'm L. I'm allowed to stay here. And... I know her health conditions.

She stared at him for a long moment.

- A-are you that American detective?

He looked younger than she had expected, though the deep bags under his eyes.

- I'm British actually, and I'm working with the Interpol... but yes, that's me.

- Uh... sorry, the nurse told me y-

- It's fine.

- Well, so... nice to meet you, mister...?

- L. Just L. Nice to meet you, too. Are you Katy's physician?

- Uhm, no, actually I'm not. I'm... I'm his practici-

- I'll have to talk to her doctor then. I must know if there's a way of waking her up.

- Well... there is no way of waking her up, I can tell you that. Doctor Foster will be there soon, however, he'll just confirm you what I've just said.

She didn't like him at first sight, he was kinda... arrogant.

- But that nurse there, the red-headed one, told me she was in a drug-induced coma.

- Well, she is, but that doesn't mean we can wake her up that easily! Trying to wake her up would probably kill her.

- Ah... I see.

He looked at the poor girl for a moment.

Her helpless body was lying on the bed and she looked like she was sleeping, apart from being attached to a life support machine and having three IV drips on her forearm.

.

- He kidnapped another one.

He stated, with that poker face of his. But there was a bitterness in his voice.

- I'm... I'm sorry.

A second of silence.

- Is she his first victim you see?

- No... no, she's the second. Also Annie Labinsky was taken here... I-I saw her too.

- Oh. She wasn't in a good state.

- No... not at all. At least...

She remembered the tiny dark haired fifteen-year-old that had died the previous week.

- At least she didn't suffer for long. But Katy... you know. Even if she'll wake up one day... she has too severe cerebral damages...

- How severe?

- I'm not a neurologist, but... we believe that she's not gonna speak anymore. Nor even realize that she's alive, even tough she woke up one day.

The detective looked thoughtful.

- What's the degree of certainty about that?

- ...exuse me?

- I mean, 80 percent? 90 percent? 95 percent sure that she's not even going to realize that she's alive, if she woke up? And how likely is that she will wake up?

- I... I don't know...

He was aking too many question at the same time.

- I... I can't know it! Medicine is not about certentainties... we can only tell it's unlikely that she'll wake up. Maybe doctor Foster will tell you a percentage, but...

- Well, I'll talk to doctor Foster then.

- I meant, maybe he'll tell you, but...

She was getting annoyed.

- But it would be just... just to show off...

She blushed, realizing that she had just sniped at her head physician.

'L' then turned to face her. He looked more interested in her now.

- What do you mean?

- I mean... he always... he... he talks big about the 30 percent or 40 percent of chance for something to happen, but...

- But?

- It's just...

She lowered her voice, staring at her own feet while she was speaking.

- It's just... random numbers... to show he knows better than the others... you know.

- I see.

He paused for a second.

- And you? What do you think about Katy's chances?

She took a deep breath.

- She... she's off-chance.

.

In that moment the door slammed open and a well-built man on his late forties came in, introducing himself as doctor Foster, head of the neurologic Intensive Care unit.