I waited in the darkness, my muscles screwed in tension. It crossed my mind that I didn't know how long I'd been sitting here, waiting for death. Maybe he killed me and I was already dead.

Unfortunately, this thought brought me to feeling again, and I realized that my eyes were squeezed shut. I paused. Then, terrified of what I might find, I decided the best course of action was to quickly get it over with.

I threw open my eyes and almost threw myself backwards. Inches away, the wide-eyed corpse stared unblinkingly at my face. Black as coal, deep as mines, they seemed to be examining every contour, orifice and blemish I had to offer. The blue veined skin of his cheeks seemed to pulse with integrity; pieces of his shaggy black hair falling into his field of vision. Shallowly, he breathed.

He smelled of pine, and earth; the sun, reflected in his swallowing gaze, turned gelid. I didn't move. I listened to our breathing.

"Yes?" He asked suddenly, with an energy I didn't expect.

"Uhh…"

What? What was I going to say again? Something…something…about scaring…something…

"'Uhh' is a colloquial term used to express surprise or misunderstanding. It also contributes nothing of any interest to a conversation." He drawled monotonously, still in his strangely perky tone.

Irritated, I shot him a dirty look. "This was never a conversation. A conversation is a dialogue in which two individuals talk about something of interest to them."

He shifted his feet, remaining in a hunched position. Pivoting his head backwards to the left slightly, he regarded me at another angle. The power of his gaze was beginning to bother me.

After a moment of silence, during which I still refused to even twitch, he pursed dry lips. Poking a cherry tongue from the confines of his mouth, he proceeded to rub the upper lip as if in thought. His eyes narrowed.

"Well, I suppose you had the right to address me. I do owe you to some extent," Took a hand from its pocket and scratched his mane. "You granted me leave of absence from that hell."

Too tired, I let my shoulders fall and sighed. "What are you talking about?"

As if irritated by my lack of comprehension, he swung his head to glare at some daffodils wilting in the humidity. Pausing again, he lifted his gaze to the clouds.

With the intensity of the storm blowing around us, he looked like something straight from a horror film.

"I don't know the details of it exactly, but you did something to let me out of my eternal prison." He swung back to look at me, a terrifying grin stretching across his face. "They read me the rules from the Book of the Dead from my cell. In the event that one is set free from death, the evictee must repay the evictor with an equal sum."

My eyes widened, my lips glued shut. What little blood that was already in my system drained completely from my head. He gave a high-giggle that reverberated in my bones.

"I guess that means I'm stuck with you for awhile!"

My hands were shaking. I clenched them into fists. In fact, my whole body was shaking. I wondered vacantly that perhaps the corpse had given me some sort of illness that dead bodies usually carry.

Blankly, I stared at this creature in front of me. No, he most certainly was not the L Lawliet pronounced to be the Great L. The Great L, who they pronounced dead on TV. Lyric Lawliet? A distant relative, maybe. Not the real thing. He couldn't be.

I turned and stumbled towards the parking lot, light-headed.

I forgot. Where am I? This seems familiar. This grass. This car.

I melted into the car seat. Smooth leather. Soft. Yes. Now, ignition. Turn key. I heard the car spring to life. To life.

I shuddered. I couldn't remember, but that had a bad connotation to it. I began to drive. An out-of-tune marching band was parading back and forth in my head. My hands felt clammy. My breathing was uneven. I stared at the black tar in front of me; following the white dotted line as if I was blind and it was my guide dog. Thankfully, I knew the streets so well the way home was second-nature to me.

I focused on my breathing.