I. Distrust
Do I remember the beginning of all this mess? Of course I do. It all started a 29th of May, 2018. The club was filled with the smell of alcohol, sweat and smoke. Laser lights came and went in different florescent colours as people moved on the dance floor, trying frantically to keep up with the DJ's beat as the bartenders mixed up the customer's drinks.
And there I was, enjoying the night and dancing as if there was no tomorrow. That was probably one of the few times I didn't stop to think about the dangers that the street meant for anyone, especially at 3.17 in the morning. The dubstep came to an end, and my friends and I went back to the sofas to sit down and give our feet a lull.
"Gosh, my feet are aching! Care to remind me, why did we put these on?" Ivye asked none in particular as she held up her stilettos. I just laughed and drank the rest of my glass. The burning sensation of the shot in my throat wasn't a bother anymore.
I had to thank them for bringing me to the nightclub; I was actually enjoying myself. But first, allow me to make the introductions. Sitting right beside me and massaging her feet was Ivye, one of the best friends and probably the most charismatic person I've ever met in my whole twenty-three years of existence. Her long blonde hair and her lively, outgoing personality almost always managed to cheer me up. On my other side was Zoe, a shy, cute girl with a huge fringe hiding her big blue eyes. I met her a month ago, and I must admit I hadn't developed a great liking for her yet. But she was a good listener and pretty faithful, I had to give her that.
Across from us were the guys of our little group, Harvey and Paul. They were twins, but complete opposites. Harvey was a jester when he wanted to be, and a complete womanizer. He was capable of empathizing easily with anybody, even with the women he had a one night stand. Seriously, some of them were still sort of friends with him. How did he do that, I'll never know. If I were in those girls' shoes I would only want to meet with him again to slap him right across the face. But ignoring his nympho side, Harvey was a very good friend. With that occasional overprotective personality, he felt like a long-lost big brother.
At last, Paul. As I said before, Paul was Harvey's opposite. He was quite the romantic type, quiet and calm, who was always disposed to have a laugh but never the one making the joke, definitely good boyfriend material, unlike his twin. Not my type, though. He would be the equivalent to my personal therapist, whereas you could say Harvey is my own bodyguard.
And me? Well, my name is Faith Millers. I'm atheist, an Aquarius, a republican, a notorious bookworm, an art lover with —wryly— little to no skills to draw or paint, and a junior criminology major student. I have a laptop full of music and illegally downloaded movies, a Dad who works way too much, a closet full of clothes, a small obsession with Edgar Allan Poe's masterpieces, a small apartment and a part-time job which allows me to pay rent... One day I'd like to have a puppy or two as well. Anyway, I think that's enough for you to get the picture.
So that's our group. Quite a cliche, huh? As if you'd taken us straight out of a cheap fiction novel. I used to think so too, but then again, I remember some Spanish saying which goes, "reality surpasses fiction". Paul laughed at Ivye's complains and Zoe managed to smile. Harvey had his eyes and his attention focused on a redhead who was passing by us to reach the bar.
"Jeez, Faith, you already ran outta drink?" He asked, finally tearing his gaze away from the girl and gesturing to my empty glass. "I think I'll go get ya a new one." He then took the cup and walked off towards the direction his new victim had gone, without giving me a chance to reply.
His brother laughed and then shouted "Don't forget the drink!" We all chuckled along with him. Not long after, Paul started to pester Zoe, trying to take her to the dance floor. His excuse consisted in stating that such a cute girl should be rejecting the one night stand offers, not hiding from them. In the end Zoe had to relent, since Paul threatened to literally carry her over there. Her weakness was being in the spotlight, and apparently she wasn't smart enough to deduce he was just bluffing. We eyed them until their bodies became indistinguishable from the rest of people. Ivye faced me with a grin plastered across her pretty visage.
"What?" I asked, "You really want me to say it aloud?"
Her giggles, as well as the mischievous sparkle which appeared in her eye, were enough answer. I couldn't help but roll my eyes.
"OK, then. You were right, I need to stop being a paranoid, distrustful girl and enjoy my life with my friends." I recited her words. She just laughed and gave me a hug. Once we parted, she looked at me. There was no trace of the previous humor that had overrun her face.
"Look, Faith. I know this last month has been especially stressing for you, but remember that you're still young, you can't expect things to always go according to plan." She said. "I'm sure everything will work out, you'll see. But for now, c'mon, just enjoy the night!" She told me with a smile. I bit my bottom lip. After a few seconds I nodded.
"Well," I shrugged, "I suppose I can do it." She pulled me into another bear hug. Suddenly forgetting about her aching feet, Ivye almost drag me to the dance floor.
We left the nightclub at 5.06, with Ivye drunk and annoyingly talkative. Harvey had the redhead hanging from his neck, making out with him. He managed to send us an imperceptible gesture of farewell, I assumed.
Meanwhile, the rest of us headed towards Zoe's car. Ivye was holding onto Paul and me, babbling nonsense. I, still almost sober, hushed her. "Ivye, shut up, will ya!" I half whispered, half shrilled. Right now I was paranoid. We were midst drunk —that's, excepting Zoe—, bumping through the dark and empty streets of Harrisburg, and the perfect target for any thief looking out for some bills and cheap jewelry.
My friend scowled while humming but did as she was told. We finally reached the car. Zoe positioned herself behind the wheel, and I claimed the passenger's seat. Paul and Ivye went into the back. Once we were all with our seatbelts on and, in our blonde friend's case, with an emergency bag ready —just in case— we drove off. I gazed out the window. The street lights passed so quickly that I had to look away, and there was not a soul around. They first dropped me at my place and, after bidding goodbye, the three continued on their way. I watched the car disappear into the darkness and, with a shiver running down my back, I quickly made my way into the doorway of the building.
Once inside the elevator, I pressed my forehead against the cool metal of the walls. I could already feel the hangover which would surely appear the next morning. Damn my friends and their drinking games... Maybe you're wondering, why was I so paranoid back at the nightclub?
Well, simple answer: Kira. I'm sure most of you —if not all— have heard about him, the biggest mass murderer the world's ever known of.
It didn't matter that he died five years ago. In fact, his death had only made things worse. Since then, many criminals started to commit felonies again. The rate of crime, which during his reign of terror had been reduced by 60% worldwide, had quadrupled two months after making public the death of the false messiah. Also many of his followers had killed themselves after hearing the news. That bastard... Had he ever cared about how many lives he had taken away?
The elevator's doors opened and I went straight to my apartment. Once inside I locked up the door and put the padlock on too. With a tired sigh, I went to the bathroom to try to remove some of the makeup and brush my teeth. Maybe I would also puke. Thank goodness my stomach decided to cooperate, though. Then I went into my bedroom and, after kicking off my heels, I let myself fall onto my soft and welcoming bed. I yawned one more time, thankful that the semester at the uni was over. Now I only have one more year left.
Before falling asleep, I stared at my bedside table, where I kept a picture of my father, mother and myself when I was eleven. "Ah, good old times..." I thought, lost in my memories as I looked intently at the smiley faces. I don't know how long it took me, but finally sleep came to me.
The next morning I woke up with a massive headache and the sun rays striking my face as they traveled through the half-opened blind. Oh, great, the hangover has started even before I've regained consciousness... Well. With nuisance, I slowly got up and looked at the pillow tainted with the remainder of mascara and eyeliner that last night I had failed to remove properly. Suppressing a grunt, I took off the bed covers along with my clothes and threw them into the washing.
After showering and putting on a random set of comfy PJs and taking a look inside the fridge, I improvised a small breakfast consisted by an orange, black coffee and two wonderful aspirins... I'd have to do grocery shopping soon. Making my way into the lounge, I slid down onto the sofa and quickly swallowed the aspirins first. Screw stomachache, the first thing I wanted was to get rid of the headache. I turned on the TV and switched to some random music channel, while I reached for the newspaper. Jeez, as heartless as it may sound, the news about some robbery or murder were getting old.
With a grimace, I left the paper on the seat furthest from my spot. The good habit that my father taught me of reading the newspaper every morning was beginning to take the risk of disappearing as the rate of global crime increased. I was eating my small breakfast and enjoying the music, when my cell started to beep. What now? Could it possibly be...?
Wasting no time, I reached for the phone. Private number. A smile made its way onto my lips as I accepted the call.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Ms. Faith Millers, correct?" My smile disappeared as quickly as it'd come. Instead I frowned; that didn't sound like him.
"...Uh, yeah, it's me. Who am I talking to?"
"Ms. Millers, something has happened, something that concerns your father. We immediately require your presence at Harrisburg Cemetery this afternoon. Be at the main entrance at 4.00 pm and come alone. Do not be late." The baritone voice commanded. My frown deepened.
"Wait! Who are you? What's happened?" I asked. However, the line ended up dead. I tried to call back to the number but it was useless.
Frustrated, I let out a small yell but resisted the urge to throw the phone against the floor. And Paul says I lack of self-control... What had happened to my father? Was this serious or just some fool's joke? Or worse... was this some sort of trap? I stared at the clock hanging from the wall in front of me. 2.46 pm. I still had an hour and fifteen minutes to decide if I would go or not. Then my stomach roared, reminding me of how hungry I still was. Despite having lost my appetite, I finished the orange and the coffee. Man, why did I have the feeling that it was going to be a long day...?
"I shouldn't have come, I shouldn't have come..." I thought for the 20th time, looking around nervously. People walked up and down the street, passing by the graveyard's gates and the lonely, paranoid girl waiting in front of them, oblivious of her nerves and distrust. I shot a glance behind me to the inside of the burial ground. It had been quite some time since I last came here. Instead of thinking about that, I focused my attention on my watch. 4.01 pm.
"That's it, I'm out…" I muttered. I was about to call a cab when my phone started to ring. Again, private number. I answered. "…Hello?"
"Ms. Millers, thank you for coming." Spoke a robot-like voice. "That's weird..." Obviously, the caller had distorted his, or her, voice. But with what purpose? Why would anyone do that…? "Now, you must follow my instructions to the letter. You are currently in N 15th; go down the street until you reach Liberty St. Then turn to your right until you reach the end of the road. Once you are there, turn left until you scope Miller St.
"Parked 5 meters from your position, you'll be able to spot a black SUV waiting by the side of the road. Get into the vehicle. Once inside, you'll be escorted by two FBI agents who will blindfold you in order to protect the location to which you'll be taken." I looked around frantically while gaping. Definitely, I shouldn't have come! This was too much. "Don't be afraid, Ms. Millers. I assure you no harm will come to your person. We are the good guys. Plus, there's no escape route anyway." I'm sure I paled the moment I heard that. They were looking at me right now?
"Is this a joke? You say you're the good guys, but who are you all? Who are you?" I asked, trying to hide my fear. "The man who called earlier said my father is in danger. Where's he? How do you know him?"
"I'm afraid that I cannot answer that question right now. Nevertheless, I can guarantee you'll acquire some of your answers once you are safely inside the vehicle." The voice said. "And Ms. Millers, I must warn you that the more time you take to make your decision, the more danger your father is involved in. So, please, be quick. I'm sure you'll do the right thing." The voice dismissed me.
"No, wait!" Then the line was dead again. Shit! He got me there... I opened and closed my mouth twice. What should I do? Everything was so suspicious. Curiosity was bugging me, truth to be told, but I wasn't stupid enough to risk my life so carelessly. Isn't this how people gets abducted? Unconciously, my hand shot up towards my head, closing around my black locks. I didn't know what to do. I had no idea what to do...! Finally, I released my hair and took a deep breath.
"Dad, if you're hurt and I get killed, I swear you'll be top on my to-haunt-forever list of people..." I started to follow the directions I was given, and when I finally ran 'round the corner of Miller Street I saw the big black SUV parked there... So it was no joke. Was this really work of the FBI? Now that Kira was dead, the agents could identificate themselves with their badges in front of civilians if they were asked to, although no one assures you that they'll show you their real names. You know, my own father received an alias.
Ignoring the little voice inside my head that was telling me to run like hell and never look back, I carefully made my way towards the SUV. Yup, talk about common sense... I stopped in front of the back door and tried to look inside, but all of the windows were tinted black. Gulping, I finally found the courage to open the back door and slide into the car.
Right after my butt touched the middle seat, my eyes were covered with a scrap of cloth. I winced, trying to control my facial expression. "Don't show your fear, don't show your fear..."
"Don't worry, miss. You are in no danger." The familiar baritone voice of the man who contacted me the first time said at my right side. I heard the powerful roar of the SUV's engine as someone started to drive, feeling two arms brushing each of mine because of the curves the car was taking.
Ugh! How much of an idiot can I be?! I'm probably the easiest person to kidnap in the whole world! At least I should have asked them to give me some proof that they really had something to do with my father.
"Who are you? Where are we going and what has happened to my father? Are you his colleagues or something?" The questions left my mouth with an unsure voice.
"We are from the FBI, and yes, we met with your father before he had to go." Said a younger male voice, this time coming from my left side.
"Going where? Do you know if he's alright? He was supposed to come back a month ago." I asked again. The car then turned abruptly to the right, slamming me against the owner of the younger voice. Both agents managed to stabilize me in my seat.
"We aren't authorized to..." Started the younger guy again.
"No! I have no idea of what's going on, and I have been told that I'd get my answers once I was inside the car, so I want you to tell me the truth! Moreover, since when does the FBI work like this, anonymously and treating a civilian with no police records as a terrorist?" I shouted. I was now pissed off.
I heard one of them sigh, but neither of them said anything else. I let out a sigh of my own and allow my head to fall against the headrest. Whatever consequences, my reckless choice was already made. I could only wait, and I hated it...
After forty five - fifty minutes of driving, the SUV finally came to a stop and my blindfold was removed. Squinting lightly, I glared at the appearance of the three men inside the car. The driver was a man around his middle sixties, with grey hair and small eyes hidden behind glasses with oval crystals. He was the first one to exit the car. I then turned my glare to the remaining agents. The baritone was a greatly muscled man, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He looked to be in his middle forties and his eyes looked at me with an unreadable expression. I turned to the other one. He remind me of a good-looking hotshot. He had black hair and blue eyes too, and his gaze mirrored the one his comrade had. He couldn't be much older than thirty. I was about to talk, when he beat me to it. "Ms. Millers, now you must follow us."
Then they proceed to exit the vehicle. I followed suit. Once outside I looked around. We were in a dark garage with the walls painted in grey, red and white, and the SUV was the only car parked there. This was no public parking, at least that I knew of. The driver was nowhere to be seen. They led me to an elevator and inside it, the blond man scanned some code which caused the machine to start moving.
"Could you at least show me your IDs?" I asked one last time, sarcasm in my voice. The agents shared an understanding look before taking them out and holding the badges to me. I noticed how they carefully hid their alias with their fingers. After examining them and the pictures, I nodded. They were not fake... Well, if they were, whoever made them made a damn good job. The agents put the badges away, safely inside the pockets of their suits. We were plunged in an awkward silence for the rest of the ride until finally the doors opened, revealing a large, grey, corridor. It seemed that we were the only ones on that floor. After a couple of minutes walking we stopped by some metal doors. The blonde agent turned to face me.
"Miss, I must ask you to hand my associate your cellphone and any other electronic device you may carry upon you. It's for security reasons." He added.
I couldn't help but release a scoff. "Oh, well, if it's for security, of course I'll hand you my only way of calling for help if needed, pal..." Despite my sarcastic thoughts, which I didn't dare to voice out loud, I faced the other agent and handed him my phone. "Is that all?" Baritone asked, raising an eyebrow with genuine surprise.
"Yes." I answered truthfully.
After glancing at me one last time from head to toe, he nodded and gestured for me to follow him. I glanced back at the black-haired agent. He wasn't coming? As if knowing what was going on my mind, he subtlety shook his head, the corner of his lips twitching up so slightly almost as if he was insinuating a smile. I sighed for probably the hundredth time in that day and turned back, following my guide's lead. The blonde man was typing again some code. After that, he had a retinal scan, and the doors opened. I followed him to another door, noticing that along this corridor the vigilance cameras were in sight.
"Come in." Came the muffled response from the inside. The agent then pressed his right thumb against another scanner. What was with all the security? Perhaps they hide the Joker in there? The door opened and baritone motioned me with his head. Slowly, I entered the room. The walls were white, reminding me of a hospital; there were various desks spread out inside the office, with toys and paperwork coming out of everywhere. In the opposite wall I saw several monitors that, currently, were switched off. And in front of the monitors, sitting on an office chair and with his back turned to me, was a man. At least I assumed it was a man, since I could only see a mess of white hair.
"Welcome, Ms. Faith Millers. I'm glad you decided to trust me." Now I was sure he was a man. And a young one. I didn't answer. He then spun the chair around and faced me. His appearance shocked me. This… guy was probably my age, maybe a few years younger. He wore a white long-sleeved shirt, which seemed to be a size bigger than he needed, and light blue jeans. His dark eyes stared straight at my face. There were rings beneath them. "Please, come closer and have a seat. We have a lot to discuss." Unconsciously, I obeyed. Once seated in front of him, I came back to reality.
"Who are you?" I asked with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
He gave me a creepy half smile that I couldn't help but think was full of arrogance. "I have quite an amount of aliases but, I believe, I am most commonly known as L."
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, any of its original characters, its plot, etc. I get no benefits while writing this fanfiction. Any similarity you may find with another fanfic it's just pure coincidence, since I've read lots of them and have got some ideas from them and/or their respective authors.
Any description and mention of monuments, art, organisations, etc, recognisable is truthful and has tried to be reproduced as accurately as possible.
However, I do own Faith and all the rest of OC which have appeared or will appear in this story.
A.N/: I will only post once the disclaimer above this author's note. Once again, welcome everyone to my story! I hope you find it somewhat entertaining and that you enjoy your reading. Now some things may seem a bit odd or out of character, but most will be explained in the next chapters, so... patience!
Good, bad, awful, amazing...? Remember all opinions are welcomed, so don't forget to review, please!
Until next time.
~Se acerca el invierno