Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own the Death Note or Fatal Frame characters. They belong only to their respective owners and no one else. I'm merely borrowing them.

Authors Notes: One thing I must mention to make this fic possible…The Events of Fatal Frame III did not happen, the ghosts in the mansion were never freed and we can all just pretend that the cast of characters from that game…who weren't you know dead to begin with, are living normal happy lives.

Note Two: I do not have a photographic memory, which means I don't remember every little detail of the mansion so some of the rooms might be out of order. Or completely in the wrong place, I know most of the way the rooms look just not where they are in the mansion so please forgive me for that.

Chapter I

The Dreaming

The air was bitter with frost and cold and one could see their breath in front of them with every breath, these breaths providing the only warmth in the dead silence that surrounded everything like a thick blanket. Something one would long for in such cold had it actually been real. 'A dream…' Came his thoughts through the emptiness and snow as the flakes clung to his hair. 'This is all just a dream.' He told himself again berating himself for feeling only a slight bit of unease at what he saw. An ominous figure loomed before him in the form of a large house. It was in the style of a Japanese mansion with high walls surrounding it and a small flight of stairs leading up to a heavy wooden door. The door itself splintered and old, so old he could not tell the type of wood it was made from, only that it was wood. Lamps lined the walkway on which he stood they were lit, perhaps there were still people in the mansion? The sound of chimes rang out through the darkness and the snow. Something else echoed along with them. 'It certainly is a creepy dream though.' He added to his ongoing thoughts and twisted a strand of his silver hair in his finger as he usually did while thinking.

Then he looked up, and dark eyes widened at what he saw.

Sleepless dark eyes and messy black hair, a familiar face, one that he looked up to, tall and skinny, and barefoot. The two gazed at each other through the snow and he felt nothing but a wave of shock through the surprisingly numbing cold, or perhaps it was the sight of him that had made him go numb. The sight of his mentor, making him forget this was all a dream. "L…" He breathed in sharply "It can't be." The heavy wooden door had been open long enough to reveal his mentor, and that was all they were meant to do. So they closed. Almost before he realized it and behind them the face of his mentor vanished into darkness. He felt nothing but the desire to chase after him, to know why he had invaded his dreams.

"Wait!" He called out as he ran forward his own bare feet making slapping sounds against the wet stone of the walkway. He held out his hand to the closing door and before he could stop to think slammed up against the hard door, almost feeling pain from the impact. Almost. But this was a dream and in dreams you don't feel pain. One shouldn't even be in control of their own actions in a dream. Now feeling less frantic, though panic had never truly taken over, he was above that, he grabbed hold of the doors large metal handles and pulled. The doors opened without a fuss, and didn't creak of groan from being opened and he looked at what was before him without much amazement at the sight of it.

The doors opened into a large space with a door and what looked like wooden caging on one side, there was a large lock on the door that lead into the room but through the fencing one could see that it was little more than a storage room, the floors lined with hay. Lamps bearing blue flames burned on either side of the door. On the opposite side of the small entrance room was a narrow crawlspace's entrance and in front of him was a small set of two steps leading up into a narrow hallway that seemed to be lined with wooden chests. He took the steps, merely stepping over them instead of on them. The floor felt dusty and creaked under his weight and he imagined if he looked back he would see his own footprints in the dust. He moved around each of the dressers, all of the containing nothing more than old clothes or items that were of no use to anyone anymore. It was dark, almost too dark to see and so he walked forwards with his hands stuck out so that he would not run into anything.

"Hello?" He called out into the darkness. "Is anyone here?"

He didn't truly expect an answer from anything but as he felt himself nearing the end of the hallway something moved. Anyone else would have jumped. But he was above that. Dark eyes just surveyed the darkness for more movement and then noticed a light coming from around what he now made out to be a corner. Quickly heading to it he tripped of what he assumed was an unexpected set of steps and fell onto the dusty floor. In front of him the light was revealed to be from a flash light and he reached forward to grab it. Placing his hand upon the cool metal and then brought it up to examine it. It was little more than the standard store bought flashlight but it made things much brighter of course now that he was out of the hallway it wasn't that dark anymore either. His eyes followed the beam of the flashlight towards a crawl space that loomed before him, to small for anyone to fit into but a child. His eyes widened slightly at what he saw. Dark and terrifying eyes loomed before him, staring at him through the crawl space before moving away. 'Someone's there?' Most people would be terrified of such a confined space. He shook it off his messy cotton colored hair moving as he did so, then standing up. 'Impossible, the probability that there are people here is slim to none, much less someone in the crawl space.' He thought to himself as he freed himself of the dust that covered one side of his clothes.

'But…I saw him..' a voice in the back of his head reminded. 'Yeah, a ghost, he isn't alive.' He looked around again, the flashlights beam following his movements as he looked another corner in front of him where the crawlspace was, and beside him another hallway that still remained in darkness. He turned to examine it…

The beam followed a path along the floor and then stopped. In front of him was a pair of feet, and the bottom of a black garment. The beam moved quickly upwards and he caught sight of a little girl, with long black hair in a black kimono, her face deathly pale and her eyes sad. She looked at him, giggled and then ran off down the hallway.

'A little girl!?' One foot moved forward "Wait!" He followed after her as quickly as possible and found himself once again alone in an empty hallway. Another door loomed before him, but he never heard a door close, or open for that matter. But there was no other place she could have gone. Was there?

So he moved forward and through the door which creaked as he opened it. Inside was a large room with a raised center on which there was a fireplace. On one side of the room there was a ladder leading up to a small balcony, on the other side there was a staircase and all the way across the room was a door. Of all the possibilities the door on the other side of the room seemed to call to him the most, and so he answered the call and walked around the raised center of the room, where the fireplace was, and to the door, which he found opened with little trouble.

It opened up into another room, with another raised platform and two sets of stairs one on each side. Though one set was blocked with Debris and wooden boards. The raised platform in the center was surrounded by a large paper screen, with only one opening in the center. As he walked towards the open set of steps he could see through the opening in the panels another person. This time a man wearing a white robe stood without movement behind the paper walls. Perhaps through this man, even with his outdated dress, he could find out the purpose of this dream, after all this was just something his mind had cooked up to try and scare him. So he quickly made his way to the steps, and up them and around the corner to look into the room. Which was now empty. He gazed at the old tatami and the pillows that surrounded an empty and broken down fire pit. He raised his hand to feel the air but quickly pulled it back. Then looked around at the rest of the room, an old closet was in the left corner it's door broken beyond repair, a staircase leading up to another balcony that he could see was only full of old chests to the right, and then another hallway loomed under it. It was there he saw movement. Dark hair and a white shirt, faded blue jeans, all clad on a tall form that was running down that hallway, and so he followed. "Wait!" He called out again as he ran past the room that was under the balcony where only a closet and a little altar with a doll filled empty space. But as he ran he saw something else, his eyes following while his body chased after his mentor. A woman with long dark hair, in a navy colored Kimono and a dark overcoat, and the child who had run away from him earlier. They stood there, staring at him, not making a movement and as he ran past them time seemed to slow. Until finally his view of them was obscured by a wall that closed off the room from the rest of the hallway. He didn't turn back though, instead going forward to chase what kept him locked in this dream. He had to find out why he was here.

He hit the corner quickly grabbing hold of the wood to stop him from falling over and through the door which seemed to be covered in papers of some kind. He didn't truly bother to look as he through the door open so hard that it almost threw out his shoulder. Slamming the door behind him he found himself in another hallway. A cool breeze blew through this one as though there a hole somewhere letting a draft in. The floor was littered with debris and tattered curtains blew in the wind. He took a few steps into it, and a floorboard creaked behind him. Turning he found himself face to face with the man in the white robe. Who he discovered as not at all pleasant, his white robe stained with red blood and in his hands a large cleaver. His eyes widened and though he felt no fear from the scenario ones instinct tells you that it is better off to run when faced with a man wielding a knife when oneself is otherwise unarmed. So he ran, quickly down the long hallway tripping over debris as the mad man behind him kept an almost equal pace. He swiftly turned a corner and ran up a flight of stairs into a set of double doors.

He most definitely was not enjoying this dream.

He had to find a way out of here.