Death Note: BLK
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of its characters.
This three-shot is dedicated to L Lawliet whose birthday falls on today! Happy Halloween!
B
Turn him over
A candle is lit, I see through him
Blow it out and save all his ashes for me
"I wish it would all just end," the dark-haired man grumbled quietly.
Death could not come quickly enough as he rested on the cold hard floor. Each scarred limb was spread out, stretching as far away from his body as they could. He had been in this position before and although it ended painfully it was definitely under better circumstances. Back then, when he still had a reason to live.
"Tick, tock, tick, tock, the days are counting down."
There were a large amount of inmates who were going to die at about the same time and it had made him wonder.
"Have I finally seen the death of the world?" he muttered as he cracked his neck and rolled to his side.
Bones grinded against the cement floor before they were relieved as the thin young man stood up. He didn't bother to straighten out his neck as he shuffled toward the sink, or rather, toward the highly polished metal that took the place of a mirror above the sink.
Curse me sold him
The poison that runs its course through him
Pale white skin with strawberry gashes all over all over
Seeing that his neck was still tilted to the side in a sickening manner, he lazily straightened it out.
"I still can't see it," he mumbled unhappily.
His Shinigami eyes looked intently into the reflection as if he could reap some new secret from it today. Seeing nothing new, his unnatural eyes slid down to observe the deep scowl shaped by his lips. After the fire, it had taken a few months of "homemade" therapy before he was even able to make facial expressions again, and now he found them intriguing.
That fire had taken many things from him, but it had failed to take the most important thing to him. His life. The hardest part of killing any human being was actually taking their lives, and he was no exception.
Pale stiff fingers stroked the burn scars that marred his once perfect features. Yes, bitterness and hatred burned within him far more fiercely than any physical fire ever could. Every pump of his twisted heart only served to push those emotions into every inch of his body, much like a deadly poison. However, this poison was far more painful.
Watch me fault him
You're living like a disaster
She said kill me faster
With strawberry gashes all over
"I hate you," he declared to the image staring back at him from the hazy reflection.
The figure that he saw wasn't his own disfigured self, nor was it the body that he had before his attempt at suicide, his final attempt to forever stump the greatest detective of all time. No, this figure was so much like the L he had heard about, had tried to imitate. Its very existence mocked him, gloating over the fact that no matter how extreme he was willing to be, L still beat him.
Strangely enough, the thought that haunted this murderer far more than the fact that L had accepted his challenge and had soundly beat him, was the fact that maybe L hadn't beat him at all. Perhaps he had defeated himself by underestimating that damned Naomi Misora. If he had been able to keep his mouth shut for a little longer, if he hadn't been so impatient, maybe he really would have given L a case that could never be solved.
"I hate you," he repeated again, but this time even he couldn't be sure of whom he was addressing that comment to.
It had been a foolish error—one that had added insult to injury, one that had taken away his chance to trample on L and to surpass him. Then again, maybe that didn't matter and L had already solved the case. These questions danced around in his head endlessly, twirling to their own beats, spinning around in their own thought patterns through the expanse of his mind.
The thought of punching that reflection in its smug face brought him a moment of glee, but it passed away almost too quickly. There wasn't much to be happy about in here. After all, his highly gifted mind was left to stagnate in this rotten hell hole called maximum security and this only added to his bitterness.
L's fault or his own, it was all the same. Being alive was only a burden to him. He had no purpose, had no meaning, it was all for naught. When would his time finally come? Today?
The sound of one of the other prisoners gasping for breath and groaning in pain caught the young man's attention. He slowly made his way to the cell door and leaned against it to watch the shadow of the man clutching his chest and hunching over in obvious pain. As he fell over, the man's face, twisted in pain, was revealed.
"~Time's up~" the young man sing-songed as the man breathed his last. "Tick, tock, tick, tock…"
Cries of pain and surprise soon filled the hall, men dropping dead of a mysterious cause. Panic made the other inmates scream in terror as they all wondered if this was the government's plan for getting rid of them before their time was up. After all, everyone down here was either on death row or life imprisonment.
"Tick, tock, tick, tock…"
"We're all gonna die!" one of the prisoner's screamed before he clenched his chest and fell to his knees.
Another pathetic fool tried to pry the door open with his bare hands, but no matter, it was all fruitless. All they could do was sit there and accept their fate.
"Henh henh henh henh."
A strange pain had shot through his chest, giving the man a sense of elation that had escaped him for nearly two years.
"Is it finally time?"
As he fell to his knees, he stretched out his hands up to the heavens and his unreal laughter echoed down the halls. The Shinigami's laugh fell on dead ears, on those who would never again see the light of day.
On January 21, 2004, serving a life sentence in a California prison, Beyond Birthday died of a mysterious heart attack.
Called him over
And asked him if he was improving
He said "feels fine" it's wonderful wonderful here.