"I don't care!" Perfectly filed papers were shoved into my unprepared hands, "Just find out more about them! Whatever you can! I don't care if you have a date you're missing, nor do I care if you have to skip personal hygiene, this is crucial to our paper!!"

I stared at my fiery little boss or also my uncle who allowed his poor, poor 18 year old niece have a job, his round pudgy face was squished into an oblivion in the middle of his profile. He glowered at me through glittering beady blue eyes.

"Okay okay, I'll get you a story." I dipped my head in his direction, trying not to anger him anymore, I scooped up my trusty bag, slipping on my long black coat and hurrying out of the office before Uncle Clark could get his blood pressure into the danger zone.

"You better!!" He roared after me, "This is serious business, Nicole!!!" He shook his puny fist at me.

It was late, almost 10:00. I was ready just pack up and go home, home to my cozy little bed where I could sleep and sleep to my sweet heart's content. But nooo...

"God, what a crack case." I grumbled to my rear view mirror, "Can't he ever relax?" I turned the key in the ignition and drove off towards the awaiting graveyard.

I perched on the straight backed wooden bench, staring out at the vast dark graveyard before me. It was a gloomy gray night, cold and heartless. Why I was in a graveyard so late you might ask? Well, as the top reporter for the Deadly Times it was my obligation to learn about all the famous dead people.

It was a dirty job, but hey, someone had to do it.

Today, I was researching the most brilliant known detective in the world, L Lawliet, -the man who took on the deadly Light Yagami/Kira case and epically failed-, and one of his successors, Mihael Keehl, whom had been killed by one of Kira's special doormats, his ass-kisser, for lack of a better term.

I rose from my spot on the damp bench underneath the dim streetlight lamp, and tilted my head to the cloudy sky. The moon was hidden beneath all the heavyweight gray overcast. Sauntering over towards the two crypts that awaited next to each other. Mihael Keehl and L Lawliet. Kneeling down in front of the double stones, I traced the intricate engravings, the dates the names, and the traditional R.I.P.

Pulling the two Xeranthemum flowers from my jacket pocket, placing the delicate kissable pink floret right over the trampled soil. Moving onto Mihael's grave, setting the flower upon his burial place. Gazing at the two tombstones, I glanced over at the cenotaph next to Mihael's. Mail Jeevas? Who?

In loving memory of Mihael's accomplice.

Amazing. This was one for the journal, who knew about Mail?! I remained squatted but hopped over to Mail's tombstone.

Scooping my pad up from where it lay inside my bag, I began scribbling notes.

A shock of lightning followed by a bang of thunder stunned me, losing my balance and crashing to my butt in the soft black earth.

I could sense myself sinking, clawing at the ground, trying to gain footing, I slipped, and created an even bigger sink hole. Clods of dirt crumbled and fell into the deep depths of the grave. Ooh, that can't be good.

"Shit." I cursed hotly under my breath, I was going to be filthy after this little trip.

If only I could be so lucky, I felt a strong grip wrap around my ankle. I gasped, and the gravestone was illuminated by another flash of lightning. Mail Jeevas 1990-2010.

My eyes widened in sheer horror as a gloved hand slid up my calf, latching on.

Shrieking until my throat ached, I thrashed making the dirt cave in even deeper, crumbling inside on itself, I stared in terror as I came face to face with a corpse. Dark red hair clung to an ivory skull in patches and clumps, gaping empty eye sockets seemed to burn holes into my face. The skinless jaw fell open, in a toothy skeleton grin.

The dark gray clouds above slowly pulled back like a curtain, letting the smiling Cheshire cat sliver of a moon sparkle down on the corpse, as the light seemed to kiss the bones and fresh skin began to blossom along it's arm, disappearing into it's glove. It... it... it... him... him... I started into the naked green eyes of him. Mail Jeevas himself.

This could NOT be happening.