Art of Subconscious Illusion Chapter 3: Trashed and Scattered, a House, M.D. + Death Note Crossover fanfic

Wow, what a fast update! I can't believe chapter 3 is up already! I was planning on it being a bit longer, but that unfortunately wasn't possible, considering what I've put already. Anyways, it's probably because of my work experience in the library, (of which it is my last day here as now it is 24/07/09) and the fact that I get three breaks in the day, which are either 20 minutes or 1 hour long, giving me plenty of time to finish this and update it up on here.

This chapter is actually quite special…you know why? Because, at some point, I'll be required to use actually Japanese (but it's in Romaji, though) so, at the end, I'll give you the translation, because it's partly important that you know what they say, even though I've put it in Japanese to begin with (the reason being to keep it realistic with the fact that House is based in New Jersey, not Japan!

So, like before, if you have any questions or anything you want to say or ask about this chapter, you know what to do! So please R&R like you should and PLEASE ENJOY!!!

Chapter III

Trashed and Scattered

Once House had managed to make it up the few levels to the main check in, and limp to the nurses' station as fast as his gammy leg could take him, he found himself surrounded by utter mayhem: five people – not including Drs Foreman and Chase – were indeed injured, and the long flat note of a patient's inexistent heart beat rang out from a nearby room – obviously, no one had been able to switch it off, considering the chaos. All of the five injured, House remembered, were from the elevator he had taken with Cuddy that morning, blood seeping from new wounds in various places. Two nurses were tending to the five injured, while Dr Chase tried to calm down a man in his forties, along with his wife, both standing beside an overturned wheelchair, arms around each other in sought comfort and fright.

It was then, while watching the consequences of the mad fifteen-minutes-ago, that House pointed out the mental patient: he was a young East Asian man (probably Chinese or Japanese), with chestnut-brown hair that would've once had a deliberately tussled quality, but was now sticking out manically. His eyes were brown like his hair, and seemed to glow red with psychotic rage. What had also made him easy to spot, was the fact that, of all the people there, of all the lying, cheating people that passed through the Hospital doors, the mental patient had Dr Foreman of all people pinned against the pharmacy-side wall, a wound on the black man's temple glistening dark in the neon lighting of the main check-in. The young man was muttering fiercely at Foreman, his teeth bared in what could only have been described as sadistic loathing. Suddenly filled with mild curiosity, House grabbed something from the Nurses' station desk and hobbled silently towards them, eaves-dropping gleefully.

"…I know the way you act towards your patients…lying, cheating…treating innocents like dirt…" The young man spoke with a slight Japanese accent, and House smiled at his words playfully: if this guy really could pull out a person's wrongdoings from nowhere, then he must have the wrong guy! "Taking stupid, irresponsible risks, not even knowing the possible outcomes half the time…or probably just too stoned to tell…Thankfully, Dr Foreman is a better man than you, you drug-abusing hack…"

Wait, what?

Suddenly, the young man's left hand stretched out behind him, grabbing Dr House by the throat, squeezing tightly. The young man turned his head to look into House's blue-green eyes, smiling with the same heartless hate. "That's right," he continued, his accent less pronounced now, "I've known everything you've done, ever since I first learned of your existence…you know, those poor people are still needing their pain medication."

"Y-yeah," gasped House, his windpipe painfully constricted, "I'll get right round to that tomorrow."

"I hope you do," the patient smirked, gripping even tighter, "because you're the reason that the world is much more rotten than it would've been without spineless, cowardly, selfish filth like you!"

"Um…like I said-"

"The criminals of the world sully the innocents from the outside, attacking again and again at their defences," His words were slower now, more purposeful in their choosing, yet even more callous sounding for it, "while ignorant public services, negligent law enforcement, and abusive, second-rate doctors like you work from the inside, rotting the world to it's core till there is nothing left but a bitter taste in the apple of society. Thanks to your methods, the better people are slowly dying, slowly disappearing: you are the curse to the little cure we have left!"

"A-a-nd what are you gonna do about it?" House asked cheekily, his face slowly turning purple.

"I'm going to eradicate the filth, like bleach upon mould, like the Angel of Death upon the citizens of Sodom, like-"

"Like Kira on criminals?" House interrupted, smiling slightly despite the situation. At that, the patient let out a growl like a warning wolf, his teeth bared viciously. Looking up to his left, he yelled out to no one.

"Ni otoko-ban mita kudasai, Ryuk!" He suddenly let out a slow, strange laugh that started low, hitting high notes at the end. "Kitanai mono wa sugu shinu*!" The laugh was louder, faster and harder now, almost a maddening yell as it reverberated across the expanse of the hall, scaring all who heard it into silence and motionlessness. They knew what would come next, and apparently…so did he. The two doctors seemed to be lifted inches higher into the air, the young man's grip tightening on their throats, Foreman and House both gasping for air. House's hands shot to the hand around his throat, and he dropped the cane in his effort to release the grip.

The dark haired East Asian girl stood up from her chair – which had been pulled right up to the Nurse's station – and batted away the fussing nurse, who was attempting to stitch up a wound at her hairline. Fear gave her wide child-like eyes a wild look, tears welling up at the corners. "Ani," she yelled, fear making her voice shake, "Otoko wa koroshinai de kudasai!" she ran up to him now, and placed her hands on his shoulders, grabbing his attention, "Satsujinsha dewa arimasen! Hanzaisha dewa arimasen**!"

With those words, the patient let go of the two doctors, letting them drop to the floor like rag dolls. It was his turn to put his hands on her shoulders. Doing so, he gripped them tight, shaking her slowly in sudden panic, "Demo…" he muttered, his voice barely audible, "Kitanai mono wa mada ikite imate, Kitanai mono wa mada ikite imate! †" He was yelling now, shaking the girl harder and harder. She tried to get out of his grip, but he was too strong, and a trail of blood was soon forming from her nose. Her eyes were rolling up into her head: she was losing consciousness, and if the young man didn't release her soon, she'd probably die from the whiplash.

Suddenly, the pair fell to the floor, a crack of wood against flesh resounding throughout the room. The forty-odd year old man and his wife pushed away a stunned Chase and ran up to them, eyes open with fright. At first, they didn't stir, but the girl's eyes soon opened, and she was soon off the floor, having obviously been too frightened to get up at first. The young man, however, stayed where he was, his eyes firmly shut and a bruise forming at the side of his face.

It was then that they noticed the shadow that fell across the unconscious patient, and it's owner: there, standing face-forward towards the little family, was Dr Gregory House, a cane in his right hand which he twirled, and a needle in the other, which was filled with clear liquid. "Oh," he said, smiling, "don't worry, I would've given him the sedative, but well…you know…" he gestured the act of shaking someone, a crazy look on his face with little sound-affects to match, which he ceased once he registered the scared looks on the three people's faces. "This was just quicker." He held up the cane, smiling impishly…well, as impishly as is possible for a forty-odd year old grouchy hermit.

Composing himself, he raised his head, placed a cupped hand to his mouth, yelling, "Clean up on aisle one! Come on, hurry up!" He clapped his hands twice,

and with that, he once again left his clients in utter shock, not knowing that he was being followed, a young man in a pink Nike cap shadowing him in silence.

As I explained at the beginning of the chapter, I have used Japanese in this chapter, in the form of Romaji (as I don't have anything on here that lets me use kanji or hiragana), and, as promised, I'm gonna give you the translation! As you may have already noticed, I've also added little symbols at the end of each section of Romaji, each appertaining to the translation down here, so flick up and back to get the right translation (they're all in the right order too!)

*Young man: "Look at these two men please, Ryuk! This filth will die soon!"

**East Asian girl: "My brother, please don't kill the men! You are not a killer! You are not a criminal!"

†Young man: "But…the filth is still living! The filth is still living!"

Has that helped? As you can probably tell, the translation is pretty literal, but I think it's fine this way. Do you agree?

Anyways, that's it for now, so please R&R and SEE YA till next time!!!