Don't mind me if this doesn't make sense, I'm trying to get into the mindset of a serial killer and his prey.

This was originally meant to be a separate fanfiction from its predecessor, however, I cannot control what happens in my brain. Hence, this became a little sequel to "Lacrimosa," which is fitting because it pertains to the same requiem. Holla.

"Confutatis Maledictis,

Flammis Acribus Addictis,

Voca Me, Voca Me Cum Benedictis."

In all of my years that I had accumulated "getting to know you," I always found it interesting that you never once would mention any of the positive facets of our relationship. It wasn't as though we were necessarily in a "relationship," you have always been impossibly insane; but, to you, I meant something more than some sort of fresh slab of meat on a butcher's stand.

Now, I'm not going to go out on a whim and say that I am an embodiment of empathic behavior—if anything, I am the polar opposite. What I am going to say, however, is that I am a human being capable of understanding, no matter how far-fetched that may seem.

Indeed, the great detective L is capable of such reproachful emotions such as understanding, and, at times, compassion. While I never act upon such petty thoughts, they do cross my mind.

And, I must say, if you did anything useful in your life, it was to help me understand that I am not a robot. No, I'm not, and I understand that now. And, I also have come to an understanding that I cannot mold others into an embodiment of my own crassness and indifference. I've failed with you, Beyond, and I failed with Able. You never knew it, but you two were the greatest mistakes I have ever made. And, for what it's worth, I apologize.

I have never apologized and asked for forgiveness so much as I had when I had let you two down. For what it's worth, I even prayed and prostrated myself in the hopes of achieving some sort of beneficial reaction, yet all I found myself with was more despair. I just wished you understood that what I did was all in the sake of preservation. That sounds cold, inhumane—but it's the truth. And if there is one thing you deserve, it's the truth, and no deviation of the sorts.

When A passed, mournfully so, I saw something shatter inside of you, Beyond. Your eyes were colder, more distant than they had been when you arrived at the orphanage. You were dead, indifferent. Yet, it was a stark difference to what I felt necessary in a pupil and prospective successor. You were gone long before you even knew it.

Do you remember, Beyond, our private lessons in Latin? You would beg me, plead incessantly, that we listen to Mozart. He was your favorite, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and you could never go but one day without listening to his symphonies. I remember, and I hope you do as well. I remember how your eyes would shine with wonderment at the idea that one man could produce works that elicited such a heart-wrenching response from his audience.

But, with these positive memories trail even more twisted ones. It pains me to remember, Beyond, and I hope you understand this. Knowing I can never save everyone, it pains me more than any blemish you could have brought upon me.

"Oro supplex et acclinis," and I meant it Beyond, "Cor contritum quasi cinis, gere curam."

I meant it that night, while you were so boastfully chanting a man's requiem as though it were a mantra, and I mean it now. While you took pride over my downtrodden body, leaving me in tears and pleading for my own mental stability, I was praying for myself, and I was praying mostly for you.

Now, in no way am I religious, I just feel as though, in times of need, I need something intangible to call out to, and a god is the only reasonable ominous presence I can think of in a pinch. But, that is another tangent for another time.

Yes, Beyond, I care. I cared enough to push myself away from you. It wasn't disgust, nor was it fear; it was, instead, concern. You didn't seem to take into consideration the fact that you were too far detached from reality, and looking at you brought painstaking grief upon myself.

And when I begged for mercy, it wasn't for you to stop. I know this makes me seem masochistic, but the pain you brought upon my body was fair. I'm glad we could agree upon something, B, and I understand what had to be done. No, while you tore hair from my scalp and made many attempts to gouge my eyes from their sockets, I begged for mercy on your soul. I had hoped that, by bringing harm upon my body, you would never bring any harm upon yours.

I was wrong about you, again, obviously, as you had succeeded in bathing yourself in a pool of flames, nearly ending your life. You were both parts beautiful and agonizing, awash in something so magnificent yet so utterly painful. And, I know you hate Misora for doing this, but it was my own selfish needs that kept you alive that day. I need you alive, Beyond, if only to validate my own sick and twisted mindset.

No one can understand the complexity of our relationship. I shudder to think what any other person would think if they had even an inkling into the twisted and horrific details of this so-called "relationship." I believe that I would be stripped of my position before I could even blink, that is how macabre and toxic we are.

You understood that, too, didn't you?

You knew we could never have been partners, especially in a relationship. We never were anything, Beyond, and that's the one thing that had bothered you the most, wasn't it? You could never have total control.

Well, I'd apologize, but for once I don't feel the need to. You were a sick boy and an even sicker man. You killed without any regard for human compassion. Those people had lives, Beyond; they had families, and children, and friends. You didn't even know who these people were! Yet, you are steadfast in your beliefs that all of this was justified..

You did it to catch my attention? That's hardly the kind of answer I had wanted to receive. Do you understand the longevity of my grief, Beyond Birthday? Do you understand the innumerable times I have beat my head against a wall, concussing myself in supplication to the gods that I be forgiven for creating such a destructive and unflinching beast? Do you understand the tears I have cried, holed up in a dark room with nary a computer screen to light the place? My soul aches for you, Beyond, it aches for you to find peace within yourself.

I'd never want to admit it, but you were correct in one thing: you had triumphed over me. You do gnaw at my conscious, insomuch as to render me speechless at times. The mere thought of you makes my blood itch with the overwhelming desire to bring harm upon myself. Whenever a thought of you passes through my mind, I feel the need to make myself feel again. I don't know what happened to me, but thanks to you I know I can never feel at peace again. No candy or treat could ever satiate the bitter taste on my tongue.

So, Beyond, this is the plan you had set out for me. Not only do I feel responsible for A, I feel responsible for those victims you so carelessly made a game out of. This doesn't please me at all, you bastard, and I hope you know that I want to die.

You know it, don't you? That's why you laugh and screech my name from those padded walls, head lolling around in a drug-induced hysteria. Whenever you eye the camera within the cell, you know you're staring at me, aren't you? Whenever you nod your head towards the camera and mouth words that I can hardly decipher, you're telling me to do it, aren't you?

Well, I can't, because I'm never going to be strong enough. So, instead, I fight for those who also aren't strong enough. I just hoped that I would be the first to pass instead of you, so maybe I could have been the one you called upon in your time of need.

But, you had to triumph over me again, didn't you? You had to expire before my haggard frame passed on. This excuse for a body still lives, thank you very much. Why couldn't you give me the satisfaction of dying first? I understood you, now why must you always refuse to understand me?

I've thrown myself into a piteous depression, and it's taking its toll on my current case. The Yagami boy notices, yet keeps himself respectfully distant. I told him it has to do with the roadblock we have hit in the case, but we both know that is not why.

I want to smash this computer over my head and use the broken shards of plastic to tear away at my skin. I want to pluck all of my arteries as though they were guitar strings, and listen to them snap when I exert too much pressure on them. I want to laugh in satisfaction as the entire force would watch in horror as I maimed myself with the skill and precision of a surgeon. I want my blood to coat the walls, and I want to tear my own eyes out so I can be a firsthand witness to my own demise. I would laugh, Beyond, like you had laughed that day you marred my skin with your initials.

I feel that only then would I find peace.

We know that will never happen, so instead I shall write these letters until I die. Think of it as my own kind of requiem, in a metaphor to your favorite composer. Think of yourself as my angel, up there, beautiful, like the harbinger you are, ready to pass judgment upon such a piteous soul as my own. I've heard the mournful bells, tolling quietly in my ear. It's a secret that I've only shared with myself, and I think it's appropriate you hear the bells of my demise. Like a harbinger bell, tolling me in a reminder that my end is near. It frightens me almost as much as it excites me.

"Gere curam mei finis." Beyond Birthday, help me in my final hour, if you find it in your heart to do so. I have always dedicated this composition to you, and I always will.

Just, please, save me.

Not exactly what I was asking for when I started this, but I think it turned out all right. Now, some translations:

"confutatis maledictis flammis accribus addictis" loosely translates as "when the accused are confounded and doomed to the flames of woe"

"voca me cum benedictis" translates to "call me among the blessed"

"oro supplex et acclinis" translated into "bowed down in supplication I beg you"

and "cor contritum quasi cinis, gere curam" translates to "my heart as though ground to ashes, help me"

oh, and "gere curam mei finis" is "help me in my final hour"

Well, what do you think? Ha-ha, reviews?