That night, L slept for the first time in his life.
There was no reason behind it. Everyone in the Task Force had left and gone home to their soft and cozy divans. Watari was in the hotel bedroom, asleep.
Sitting up again because of his insomnia, tending to the hundreds of files containing possible 'Kira' leads that needed sorting, L had been wide-awake. He had just had a cup of coffee flavored molasses. He was just thinking of having another when he began to feel drowsy. Puzzled, he rubbed his eyes. He grew even more tired. He rubbed harder. L's lethargy grew worse. His arms became heavy, so he lowered them. He curled up on the floor in a ball, almost as though a spell had been cast over him. His dark eyes fluttered, but he could not hold on to consciousness.
His last thought was 'How strange…Could my insomnia be leaving?'
And so he sunk into the dark, silvery mist of dreams and nightmares.
Sinister clouds hung over the wooden house, casting ominous shadows across it. The trees were tall, and creaked and sighed as though they were speaking. Dry autumn leaves made scratching noises as they skittered across the lawn pulled by the evening wind.
Darkness fell but no stars appeared in the sky.
Without L's permission, his vision flew forwards through the glass in one of the windowpanes; forwards through walls until he entered a hallway with no windows.
His sight focused on a woman of willowy build. She had long, gossamer brown hair.
He couldn't see her face.
The woman was whispering frantically, ushering a small girl with similar, but spikier hair down the hallway. The little girl's bright green eyes sparked with concern as she chewed on the cuff of her worn, dark pink hoodie.
The small child reminded L vaguely of someone he knew, but his clouded mind was processing so slowly he couldn't think of who.
The woman led the girl into a dark room. There was a large door on the other end of the space, obviously leading to the outdoors. L let the dream pull him. He was getting used to sleep already. The lady leaned down and scooped the child up into her arms. The little girl wrapped her small arms around the lady's neck. The two held each other tightly as if neither wanted to let the other go. But the woman put an end to the heartfelt moment by carrying the child over to a carefully carved wardrobe in the corner and deposited her within.
The little girl blinked up at the adult as if unable to comprehend the situation.
"Mommy?"
The said mother hesitated before closing the wardrobe door. L saw that she was crying. He had a creeping suspicion that something terrible was about to occur, but he brushed it off. Nothing bad could possibly happen.
After all, it was only a dream…Right?
There came a loud thunder clap from the sky. The sound of rain began to sprinkle upon the roof. The mother stood calmly in the middle of the room, encased in darkness. She had concealed behind her back, the leg of a wooden chair. All was silent.
Suddenly, a huge crash came as lightning flashed across the sky and the large door at the other end of the room was kicked off its hinges.
A man stood in the doorway, an insane smile lit his features. As he swaggered into the room, the thing grasped tightly in his hand caught in the light. A large knife.
The woman stiffened, but refused to scream, although L could see her struggling against her vocal chords. She took a step backwards.
The man launched himself into action. Before the woman could even act, he was upon her.
Skin and knife met like ice against earth.
Blood splattered across the walls as lightning struck; it pooled beneath the lady's broken body, oozing across the floor like a blanket with its treachery. Again and again, the knife plunged itself into the dying woman, stealing even her last breath away.
And finally, all was silent.
The man emerged from the fresh corpse, a horrible grin stretched across his heartless face. A small whimper came from behind the wardrobe doors. His crazed eyes snapped to it.
He began laughing.
"Goodbye, my little song bird."
And then the knife was forced into the man's chest with a disgusting 'shlick'.
As the lights in his eyes dimmed, the man had enough time to utter a final, insane hoot of laughter.
He collapsed on the floor, dead.
L was shocked. He stared at the carnage and wished he could have never seen it. He wished the dream would end.
But the story was not finished.
L turned his head towards the wardrobe. He saw, through the crack in the doors, the little girl hunched into a ball, staring at the bodies of what L assumed to be her late parents with wide, green eyes, sparkling with tears. She trembled, her face pale as though she was about to be sick.
L made to move towards her, but remembered that this was a dream. He could not help her.
Suddenly, the shaking girl let out a terrified wail of anguish and propelled herself out of the wardrobe, knocking the doors aside as if they were not there. After landing on the floor standing and somewhat upright, she proceeded to push herself forward, her steps uneven. She stumbled toward the hallway door. She collapsed to her wobbly knees at the door frame, her face clouded with shock. She barely noticed, but she was sitting in a puddle of wetness.
The little girl gulped the air. Her eyes stared unseeing at the floor in front of her.
Suddenly, a dark haired teenager staggered through a door farther down the hallway. He hung onto the doorframe for support in his right hand he held a butchers knife; larger than the one that had impaled the little girl's mother.
The teenage boy's hair hung over his eyes, hiding half of his expressionless face. He changed hands of the knife, and instead used its hilt to support him against the wall.
The little girl watched the boy with wide eyes. Footsteps dragged across the floor; through large puddles of unknown liquid as the boy seemingly limped towards the other end of the hallway.
He stopped. The little girl hesitantly stood up. She paused before going to stand three feet in front of him.
"…Brother?" she asked quietly.
The boy lifted his face to the girl faster than his labored stride would have you believe. His expressionless face changed drastically to a murderous smile.
He began smashing the left side of his head into the blade of the knife, the blows becoming increasingly quicker as his smirk grew wider.
"S-Stop!" shrieked the child and attempted to intervene.
Quick as a flash, the boy transferred the knife from his head to swinging it at the girl. She attempted to jump back, but the glistening, bloodthirsty blade caught her on the side of her left eye, and carved a curved wound from the end tip of her left eye to just below her tear duct.
"Ah!" she clapped her hands to her now bleeding face.
She lifted her head to see her brother standing above her cowering figure, grinning and holding the bloody knife in his grip. He let its hilt slip from his grasp and it fell to the floor with a loud 'clang'.
"Hahaha…Ha…" the teenager laughed weakly. The only sound was the blood dripping from the disgusting wound in the side of the boy's head. With weak fingers, the boy reached into his jean pocket and pulled a matchbox out of it. Carefully, he struck a match against the box. It lit easily.
And then the boy collapsed, an insane smile still etched on his face. The match slipped from his hand and dropped to the ground in a puddle of the strange-smelling liquid on the floor. Almost immediately, the fire grew and began to spread like wild fire.
The little girl screamed and struggled to her feet. She began to run towards the door at the end of the hall. The fire was eating everything and anything behind her.
The girl glanced back in terror as the flames chased her. The blaze was reflected in her cloudy green eyes, and her mouth opened once again to utter another shriek of panic.
L stared in shock at the flames, and the tiny girl sprinting for her life. He wanted more than anything to extend his hand and help her. But it was impossible.
Finally, the girl reached the door. Yanking it open, she stumbled through it and into the heavenly haven of wilderness.
Turning back to watch the fire devour her previous home, the child burst into tears.
L bolted awake, his eyes wide and disbelieving. He realized he was trembling and he had broken a cold sweat. He breathed outwards and cradled his head in his hands in effort to clear his mind.
'Just who was that girl?!' L thought. He knew he had seen her before.
But try as he might, the memory would not come.
Shaking his head, L turned back to his pile of manila folders, wishing he could forget the whole dream. Or better yet, not have had the dream at all.
