Disclaimer: I do not own the Death Note Series or any of the characters portrayed in this piece. However, I do RP (Roleplay) as L Lawliet and decided to share this wonderful story with you all. The person portraying Beyond Birthday is not myself, but a friend of mine who RP's as this character. All credit on Beyond Birthday Chapters are to that individual. Please read and review, to let us know what you think.

Upon Reading, Please Note:

- This is a POV (Point of View) based story.
- Bold Font in Dialogue (For Beyond Birthday) is associated to the Shinigami attached to him.
- References to A are all created by a third party. He was given the name Accurate.

Thank you and please enjoy reading. Send a Review with your feedback.

CASE FILE: BEYOND THE LIMIT

Log #1: BEYOND BIRTHDAY - REBIRTH_

The sun could be seen setting in the distance, the various shades of red and yellow and pink and purple sprawling out across the sky. The wind kicked up lightly around the area, leaves stirring about and flying ever lightly about. As it was not yet dark and still light enough to move about, there were still people around doing whatever it was that they needed or wanted to do. For a normal human being, that scene may have been attractive; they would be rejoicing and wanting to go outside and celebrate life.

'For a normal human being' being the operative word.

The boy in question who happened to be staring out of his window down at the city, watching its inhabitants scurry around and mind their own business, hated them for that very reason. They were normal and he was not. He looked up at the sky and only saw a mess of reds and whites and a bit of black mixed in somewhere. He'd been told by his other half what it was. He wasn't sure he believed it, but when had that other steered him wrong? Oh, that's right. When he died.

What was supposed to be an escape had turned dramatic when he failed to realize the laundry cart he had jumped into wasn't headed out. It was headed back in. And where it was headed was a place he did not want to be. But by the time he realized it, it was too late. When they eventually did find his body, it was almost a week later. It was such a bloody mess that they almost didn't know how it was. Or at least, until they checked the male's padded room and realized it was him. They had discovered that he had had some sort of cardiac arrest. They figured if he had not had that, his body might not have been torn to pieces by the machinery in the work room of the prison. They did the proper thing and buried the body in a grave and made special note to notify somebody with the name of "L". They had figured whoever he was, they would want to know of the death of Beyond Birthday.

The only reason he had ended up in such a state to begin with was because of L. Had that man not called for outside help in his criminal investigation in the first place, the male would not have been sent to prison in the first place. Why he'd even thought he could get away with that, he didn't know. He'd been so stupid. Why did he underestimate her? It was because she'd been a woman. He rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, "That's why I hate women." He punched the wall next to his window hard enough to make the walls shake. The tape came loose on some of his papers and they all came crashing down. He threw a fit, but began to pick them up. He spent a good hour re-taping everything, making sure they were all in the perfect order before stepping back and looking over.

"Tonight's the night. It has to be. Everything is finally all set up and ready!"

Ugh, that voice. It grated on his nerves. He'd grown up listening to that voice. It annoyed the shit out of him. He ignored it and headed for the kitchen, opening his fridge. He found what he was looking for, that precious jar of strawberry jam. He opened it up and turned around to stare at himself in the mirror. He hated mirrors. He resisted punching it and spreading glass shards all over the place.

"Fine. We'll go out tonight."

There was a moment of celebration and then all was silent. The walk to the closet that held everything he would need for tonight. He leaned against the doorway after he'd opened the door to the closet, turning on the light. Duffle bags, blades of all kinds, a baseball bat, various empty jars and, of course, jackets and shoes. He chose what he wanted to take carefully, looking back to check the window. It was almost dark.

Perfect.

The moon hung high and bright in the sky, illuminating the park. It may not have been one of his best ideas, but the park was always a good place to scout for victims. He needed to get one alone; why did everyone have to travel in pairs or packs or have that ever annoying dog? This made his job almost impossible. He took a seat on the bench, adjusting his jacket. This was so boring. But that's when he spotted him. His welcoming back gift as it were.

"Sir! Hey, sir!" The boy called out to grab the man's attention. It was a lone jogger. He slowed to a stop, looking the boy over as he jogged over. The man assumed he was talking to a runaway.

"What do you need, kid?" Kid. Yes, that's exactly what the boy wanted to hear. He smiled up at him politely, hands hidden in his pockets.

"I'm lost. Maybe you can help me? Let's go over to that street light and look at my map?" He suggested, playing the part of an innocent quite well. The man gave a polite smile and turned to walk towards the light.

"So, what are you? A runa- . . . Ahhugn." The blow to the back of the head from the boy's bat brought the man to his knees. One or two more blows later, he was laying flat on his back. No, he wasn't dead. Not yet. He'd just passed out. A quick look around to make sure no one was around, the boy dragged the body off into the bushes. This is where his fun began.

The duffle bag opened and a hand reached into it, rummaging around until it found what it was looking for: a pair of pliers. While yes, he'd thought about the pain of what he was about to do might wake the man up, he came somewhat prepared. He dug into the bag once more and pulled out a sandwich bag. It was filled with a type of candy. A type of candy he knew a certain someone liked. He wrapped it into a cloth and stuffed it into the man's mouth. Perfect. Now he could work!

He sat on the man's lower stomach and yawned, reaching to pick up his hand. He looked at the nails in disgust, reaching up with the pliers. He took his time as he gripped the first one; should he tug it out fast or drag it out slow? He yanked it. He didn't get it all and had to do it again. The man had groaned and started to wake up. He hadn't thought of how he was going to keep the man from attacking him. He quickly looked over at his bat and grabbed it. He didn't want to kill the man just yet! He put the bat in his face as the man started waking up more and growled.

"You will not make a sound nor will you move. If you do, I'll slit your throat right here and now." The man passed out from fear. Or was it shock? It had to be fear; he hadn't really done anything to 'shock' him yet. He picked up the pliers again and this time started to slowly drag the nails off the man's fingers. By the time he'd finished that, he had in fact passed out from shock. The boy was thrilled, but how much time did he have left?

He put the pliers back in his bag and reached into it once more, pulling out a cleaver. He yawned again and stretched, placing the blade on the man's wrist. He raised his own arm and brought it down hard. He picked up the hand again and looked it over before tossing it up into the tree beside him. He put the blade on the elbow and chopped it off, too. That piece was tossed carelessly off in the bushes. He chopped the rest of the arm off next, leaving it where it was. He did the same thing to the man's other arm before moving to his legs.

His legs. What to do with them. He grabbed the bat and started beating the bottoms of his feet. He watched the body twitch and blood started to pool. He placed his bat down at his feet and picked the cleaver up again. He did the same as with the arms, cutting the legs into sections and tossing them various places. What he was left with was a torso and a head. He knew what he wanted to do with the head, but what to do about the torso . . . Oh! He knew!

Once more with the cleaver in hand, he chopped the head off. It took time just as everything else had. Bone was so hard to cut through. He placed the head off to the side and tossed the cleaver back into his bag. He rooted around inside until he found a smaller blade, using it to cut the chest open. He huffed when it came to breaking the rib cage. The pool of blood that was forming was rather perfect for the last part.

He scooped some of the blood into the jar he'd taken from his bag and walked over to the sidewalk. He hadn't thought of not having a wall to play with. He'd have to use the sidewalk. He wrote what he needed to write, going back to the bushes where the body was. He put all his things back, making sure the candy in the man's mouth was still there. It was. Even better! He picked up his bag and the head, taking it over to the bench he'd been sitting on. He placed the head on the bench facing the scene and adjusted it ever so slightly. Perfect. Everything was perfect!

He then casually started of the exit of the park, humming ever so softly. The sun would be up soon, wouldn't it? He had just enough time to get home. He began to purr as he walked down the sidewalk. Not bad for being away for so long. He entered his apartment and put the bag down after locking the door. He made his way to the bathroom to bathe, thinking back to the message he had left.

"And so it begins again. I was foolish last time. Mice have that as a habit, you know. I've changed tactics. It is I who am the predator now. Let's see if you have what it takes a second time. Come and catch me if you can!"

Log #1: END_