XXVIII – Needle Point
For the rest of the day, the Dragon avoided his daughter. Instead, he chose to dedicate his time to the Yotsuba corporation and to his newest associated – one of the very few he still trusted. Of course, the first to take advantage of it was Light Yagami and the man's sworn enemy, his former protégé – also known as the Snake.
While Light did not aim to ruin him, just maybe his daughter's hair and part of the man's rented apartment, the Snake had other plans, far more ambitious.
"Have I made myself clear, darling? Do you have any other questions?" he asked his latest asset, the British woman so dull she could pass by unnoticed.
Nodding, Bianca walked towards the door. "Perfectly clear. I will make sure this time, I will not fail."
With the Snake's poison in the syringe, the blonde left for the hospital. Now she knew the room would be the third on the right, on the third floor of the western wing of the building. Her cover was ready and so were her spare change of clothes.
By the time the nurses changed shift, she managed to get into a storage room usually kept unlocked, changed, then went looking for the Dragon's dearest employee. Now, according to the Snake, if anything went wrong, she could easily kill up to five people with the contents of that one syringe. Determined to succeed this time, the woman diluted the poison into three other vials. It should also give her more time to escape, making this man suffer a slower death.
In her mind, it shouldn't be too much of a fuss. After all, who would work with the man who murdered her uncle and over a hundred others? Her target had to be just as rotten as the one he had been working for. It seemed to make sense, right?
Sure enough, she found the room and sneaked in as quietly as she possibly could. The patient was a man, as expected. In his thirties, with dark hair and tanned skin – obviously European by the shape of his face. He seemed unconscious, so Bianca neared him and checked his vital signs. His state was stable… In fact, he seemed to be doing quite good, according to the knowledge she had in the field.
"It would be such a shame to send you to hell…" the woman mumbled with a smirk. "Tell my uncle I said 'hi'. It's nothing personal, though."
Yet, her eyes widened in shock once she saw the target grinning at her. His eyes were barely open, but he was conscious and very aware of what she had just said. Panic washed over her in a cold sweat.
"I will… If I see him, of course."
She frowned. "What do you mean? You are a murderer and you will go to hell… If there is one, that is."
Diego didn't seem affected, though. "Guess I'm going to find out, huh? But let me ask… Your uncle was Vincent, right?" After a moment, he continued. "You call me a murderer, but I wasn't on the yacht that night… My boss and his girl weren't, either. Do you know why my boss wanted V. dead?"
Shocked, Bianca's hand had frozen on the syringe. This was not part of the plan, it was not how it should happen. On instinct, she pressed the needle into his perfusion and emptied the contents of the syringe. "No. I don't know and I don't care. Why should I even trust you?! You're a dead man!"
"Exactly. Why would I lie when I have a few minutes left…?" Diego chuckled. "You see… I'm useless now, but my boss won't let this pass. You will pay for me, just like V. paid for his wife. Ah…" he sighed, "if you only knew what a tortured soul Anastasia was… You would wish your uncle suffered in hell for all eternity, too."
Shaking her head, Bianca began to panic even more, losing her temper. Taking out the other vials, she opened them and forced Diego to drink it. When he spat it out, the blonde felt one of her eyes burning. The pain that followed was horrible, making her think her eyeball was melting. But there were a few little details she had forgotten. In their struggle, Diego managed to pull a few hairs – enough for a DNA sample, he could bet.
Soon though, his throat tightened and his heart rate began to quicken. It felt like his lungs were on fire, his heart trembling to keep up the pace and his head craving oxygen with the desperation only a dying man can know. The pressure made him think his eyes would pop right out of their socket, but he knew that was not going to happen. Instead, with his last drop of strength, he held onto Bianca. His hands clenched, one around the woman's arm and the other one in her hair, holding her with the rage of an animal. Still, the Italian grinned. It was a gruesome grin, like that of a psychopath typically shown in the media. It made Bianca struggle even more, until she threw her attacker away and he fell off the bed.
Several other nurses rushed in. Of course, it would be too late for Diego, but Bianca used it to her advantage.
"He attacked me! He is insane, I swear!" she cried, pointing towards the dying man.
Diego pointed his finger towards her, trying to call her out for her doing, but he could not move his mouth. His jaw was trembling and he could no longer feel his tongue or his throat. 'So that was it…' he thought as he began to hear something like a church's bells. 'It was fun while it last.'
Once she was out of the hospital though, Bianca felt dizzy. Her right thigh felt strange too, there was a tingling sensation that wouldn't go away. She got into a cab and told the driver the address, then leaned in her seat and closed her eyes. Was she getting a fever, or was it just the scent of that car that bothered her a little too much?
"Driver? Do you mind leaving a window down?" she asked.
"…It's December. Yeah, I do mind. It's cold as hell tonight."
Pulling out a gun, Bianca held it to his head. "Oh, bloody hell! I told you to leave down a window, I don't care if your arse is freezing! Nothing will fall off, I assure you!"
With a strange look and a trembling finger, the driver pressed the button that let down the window on her side. It was cold as hell outside, but he sure didn't want his brains just as cold on his window.
After a moment, Bianca let down the gun and sighed. It felt like she had a sore throat, it hurt whenever she tried to swallow her saliva or inhaled. Luckily for her, they were there in a few minutes. Bianca paid, then got off. The ground seemed to be spinning around…
In the blink of an eye, the woman woke up in a strange bed, in a strange room. The first thing she checked were her clothes, which were still on. Her right arm was sore and she seemed to have a very ugly bruise. Also, her right sleeve had been rolled above her elbow. There was a strange taste in her mouth and every part of her felt numb. Dizzy, she laid her head back on the pillow and sighed.
The room smelled of smoke. She could see dark brown furniture and a pretty familiar green wallpaper. Before she could remember where had she seen it before, the woman's mind faded into darkness once more, even when she heard someone speaking. Whoever the person was, they were a second too late. Bianca had no idea of what they were saying.
All the while, Light was making use of his time. It seemed the Voice got it right this time, being possessive enough of Caterina to make her feel interested, but not rough enough to scare her away. Her moment of vulnerability was quickly turning into a heated make-out session, Light taking permission to get his hands all over her and Caterina just trying to claim the opportunity and return it.
She was cute, the Voice thought. The girl didn't really get to dominate him, unless he allowed her a moment, but it was nice to see her trying. However, when daddy got home, Light found out there was a reason Caterina didn't get involved with many.
In one move, the man caught Light by the collar and threw him against the nearest wall of the living room. It knocked the air out of him, leaving the teenager gasping for a second. It certainly didn't feel very good to have the Dragon glaring into his soul and pressing his fist against Light's neck.
"You cockroach! I should have left you to die!" the man growled. If he didn't like Light before, he certainly hated him now. Light with his hands all over his daughter wasn't what he expected to find after a long day.
"Padre, don't-!" Caterina quickly got up, but her father smashed Light into the wall again.
"Sir, please allow me… There is an explanation for this, perfectly valid," Light managed to say. In truth, his head hurt terribly. He was wondering if his skull was broken, or worse – if he will be getting some brain damage, like a small hemorrhage. He didn't have to be a medic to understand the gravity of such powerful hits.
"Then explain. You have five seconds," the Dragon said through gritted teeth.
"She invited me here," Light tried, "because we are together. We talked, I tried to comfort her."
"My daughter could have talked to me!" the man answered him, only making Light go into a state of panic. He could no longer think clearly, his thoughts were racing in a billion directions.
"Padre, stop! You didn't listen," Caterina shouted in a trembling voice. The girl had seen her father kill people with his bare hands for much less. She looked at both with red, hurt eyes, burning with unshed tears. "…If you kill him, we're done," she continued in a faint voice. "Done for good."
Turning from Light to his daughter and back, the Dragon eventually loosened his grip. With his head low, he sighed deeply and let go of Light. "…This scumbag will only use you, my love. Are you aware of that?" he asked her slowly, as if choking on every sound.
"On… the contrary, Sir, I… I am offering you my help," Light said, once he could feel his throat again. He certainly wasn't going to forgive and forget what had just happened. No, the Voice in him was angered, and the Dragon will pay for that. Just… a little later.
Caterina closed her eyes shot, breathed deeply, then began walking towards her room. "I don't care. Not as long as I get what I want."
"My darling-!" the Dragon called after her.
"Caterina?" Light did at the same time.
"I don't want to hear it!" Slamming the door, the girl left the two alone. It was the first time the Voice admitted in front of itself and in front of Light's other half… there may be a few similarities between himself and the Dragon.
After a long moment, the Dragon went to sit on his armchair. "Get up, boy," he ordered. "Is it true? Are you two… together?" the man spat in disbelief and anger.
Light did as he was told. "Of course we are. Why else would I have waited for her to return for over a year?"
Narrowing his eyes, the man studied Light. "My daughter is dating the son of a cop…" He seemed to be talking to himself, though Light bothered with a response anyway.
"My father happens to be one of the most brilliant in Japan, although I have my… personal doubts regarding the law system." Once he got the man's attention, Light sat across from him in Caterina's seat. "You know perhaps better than anyone, Sir. The system is flawed, and even when it is not, there will always be some who get away with crime. I realize this may not be the most believable coming from the son of the current police chief, but I have studied your methods, Sir, and I must say – they are the only surefire ways to ensure a criminal will be punished."
The Dragon didn't want to believe him. He had heard more than enough of those like him, pretending to support him so they could steal from him. The man was not going to let Light steal his daughter from him. "Let's pretend you mean what you say. In which way do you intend on proving yourself to me?"
Light cursed him in his mind. He hadn't been expecting that, though perhaps he should have… Perhaps it would be best to pretend he was innocent. After all, this trick got him through the most unfavorable situations. "I don't know, Sir, but as long as you tell me what exactly I should be doing, perhaps I can prove myself and be done with this discussion," Light shrugged. "It is nothing but a formality for us, anyway. Caterina told me about your problems lately. As I've said before, if I can be of any help…"
"I don't work with children," the Dragon began, "Unless… they are recruited very young, swear loyalty to me, and are educated and shaped into the men I need to work for me." The man knew very well teenagers had an almost completely developed personality and very stable mindset. Unlike young children, they were much more dangerous.
The moment he heard him, Light understood why the Dragon was still alive. Of course! He was like a father figure to many, like a brother to others, and he was still relying on that. A brilliant trick… Unfortunately though, to do such thing required time and money which Light didn't have. Well, he may have time, but he could not wait for children to grow up with his ideas in mind and worshipping his image. Unless… Yes, that will be it. His key to success – he had finally found it.
With the idea in mind, Light excused himself as he pretended to be talking on the phone to his father. It was exactly what he needed in order to return home and start building his own empire, founded on loyalty and worship. He wanted his name to be not only a fatherly figure, but the fatherly figure. He wanted to associate his public-given name to that of a new god. The real one was dead, anyways. Either that, or permanently retired.
Soon enough, he was on his way. His blood was rushing through his veins by simply imagining it. He could be god, thanks to the Death Note… Yes, that was right. It was a supernatural notebook, above the understanding capacity of the common man. Thinking about it, Light began to fade as his darker half was taking control.
As soon as he entered his house, Light excused himself as very tired and went up to his room, turning on his computer and searching the internet. Every trend began there, every urban legend or myth. There was no better place to start building his image than on the dark and obscure blogs and forums, on the sites ran by others of his age or younger and populated with youth. It was always the young who started a real change, never the old and sick.
That night, the Voice took the name of Kira.
"But I am no killer…" Light thought out loud, mumbling to himself.
'Nor is God… Or was, at least. Not the most just of judges, was he…?' the Voice reasoned, to which Light simply had to agree. 'I am the strongest version of you. I am your strength, your savior… You turn to me when you are too weak, overwhelmed, when you feel like the sky is about to fall. I take care of everything you don't want to handle – and I will take care of this, too…' the Voice continued in his mind, as Light agreed hesitantly.
"Kira… The savior, the creator of a new world…" Light found himself muttering the words of his darker side. "Yes… That's right! There must be a reason why I found this notebook!" he spoke again, this time in a dialogue to his other side.
Creating a few accounts with usernames such as 'Justice', 'Truthseeker' and a few others, Light began engaging in debates over the latest of his achievements. People believed him quite easily and Light found out what they thought. Some were confused, thinking they should name him Lucifer, after the prince of hell delivering punishments. Others thought they should call him the Heart Judge because of his unique signature kill.
There were theories that Kira was either a ferry spirit, a shinigami, or some god of the underworld – names going from Hades, to Yama, to Osiris, to Odin, and so on. Then, there were names of different deities that were given the role to judge the deceased. Some even thought Kira was the Grim Reaper himself! The Voice was amused to look up each and every single comparison and learn about it.
No surprise, there were pages and pages full of myths, deities, legends and religious beliefs. "So it seems, not only one god is on vacation. Apparently, they're all retired!" He picked fun at every single reference, once he had his facts right.
'We should just call him Kira. He seems to be the most active of gods these days,' he posted in a group conversation.
'That's right! He's not like those other imaginary gods, Kira is real,' someone replied whose username Light couldn't even pronounce.
'What makes you think he's a god of some sort?' a new person joined them.
'He punishes the criminals without even being there. Kira is everywhere,' Light replied, pleased to see the support of everyone there. At least ten people acclaimed his answer in the following minutes, boosting his confidence.
Light wasn't the only insomniac, though. The Snake was smoking cigar after cigar until he ran out, then opened a pack of cigarettes. Sighing out the smoke, he took his eyes off the screen and glanced through the open door towards a different room. He was on the couch, watching a black and white classic. In some way, he could relate to the character. Although the Snake didn't care much for his mother, he did have some sudden violent bursts. In his younger years, after he first saw the film, he remembered having replicated the most famous scene of that movie in a hotel room with a prostitute. When she was taking a shower, he picked up a large kitchen knife and repeatedly stabbed her just to see if her screams would match those of Vera Miles. He had been disappointed.
The Snake thought he saw some small movement. After a moment, he convinced himself it was only his imagination fooling him again. The man sucked the smoke with thirst, let it sit in his lungs for a moment, then let it out. He tried to make those smoke rings movie characters make with such ease. A few times, he even succeeded.
The man was bored. It was what he wanted to believe, though perhaps there might be the slightest chance for him to feel worried. That foolish blonde! Then again, who was the bigger idiot of them? Was it her, for somehow allowing herself be stabbed with the needle of that syringe, or was it him, for trusting a young, inexperienced, careless woman with the job?
From the hospital, Misa had been contacted by a woman. She had been the only saved contact of Diego who answered the phone and also the most recent number he had called. The blonde was watching an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet, desperately trying to keep her mind off that bad feeling in her gut. Just as Romeo was dying, the blonde took out her lollipop from her mouth and picked up.
"Yes? Misa-Misa here!"
'Miss Misa, we regret to inform you that, after an accident and some recent complications, Diego Abandonato had passed away today. There was nothing more we could have done… Miss Misa…? Miss, are you still there?' the voice kept calling from the other hand, but Misa's phone was slipping from her hand.
'Miss Misa…? We need you or someone from the family to claim the body, miss.'
With her eyes glossy with tears and her mind spinning, the blonde could only mutter her answer. "I will… tell his family."
'Excuse me, miss, what is your relation-!' but before the other could finish her phrase, Misa had already flipped her phone closed.
"…Complications?" she asked herself, staring right through the whipping Juliet on the screen. That was just a play – the fantasy story of someone who has died a long time ago, right? But her story was real…
Heartbroken, the blonde remembered his last words before driving away. 'It's safer if you take off here. Take care, alright?' Then, he drove in a different direction from where those fancy hotels and business centers were. He drove towards the outskirts of the city… And then, he had an accident.
Misa couldn't understand. Why didn't he drive her all the way home? Why didn't Diego go back to his boss? Where was he going and why? Breathing in, she began to shiver. It couldn't be… He had just returned to her after forever! He simply could not be dead! She didn't even want to think the word, getting mad at herself when she did. Maybe if she didn't say it, there was still a chance it won't be true tomorrow.
Staring at the sky covered in clouds, Misa cursed her supernatural lover. Why was he doing that to her? Was she not allowed to care about anyone in this world? The girl remembered Anastasia again and before her, the two most important people in her life to that point. Why did her parents have to go? Why did Anastasia have to go, too? And now Diego – why? Holding her knees to her chest, the girl began to cry out all of her pain and anger, all her confusion and frustration. Misa cursed Death over and over, imagining she will have the chance to lecture her dark lover from a different world when her time will come. 'And he better be there, when my time is up!'
A little past midnight, Caterina got a text. Annoyed, she thought it would be Light trying to ask her out or something of that sort. When she saw it was from Misa, the girl woke up for good and opened the message. As soon as she did though, her face turned blank. The girl never wanted to believe it, but she could see it coming and tried to pretend she was ready to hear these news.
Getting up, she went to tell her father. The auburn-haired girl knocked on his door and waited. "Padre… You need to see this."
The man was barely slumbering, too paranoid to let his guard down and fall asleep. Although tired, he didn't want to risk anymore – not after the last time. That night, Caterina had been taken from him and he had been locked in the room with a bomb just about to explode. His girl had ended up with a dislocated shoulder and two broken ribs because he allowed himself the luxury of deep sleep.
As soon as he heard her, the Dragon stood up and opened the door. "What happened? Why aren't you in bed?" he asked with concern. Instead of an answer though, Caterina only showed him the screen of her phone.
"…Who sent you this?" he asked after reading the message twice. With just three words, he felt his world crumbling.
"Misa did," his daughter replied. "Do you think it's real…?" Caterina was desperately hoping this would be just a set-up, a threat meant to frighten them both.
"Yes. This evening I got a voice message saying that others will 'pay' for my 'sins'," the man answered. Shocked, he felt the need to sit on the edge of the bed. "I should have known…"
Enraged, Caterina pointed her finger at him. "This… This is your fault, and you know it. If you cared more about Diego, he wouldn't be dead now. You left him uncovered, like a pawn on the chess board. He was an easy target, all because of you!" Her voice was calm, but accusing.
Her father looked sown. "I know… But I will make him pay," he growled through his teeth, holding his both hands together, fingers laced and locking them together. The man had to hold that posture. Who knows what he might smash or punch otherwise? He wanted to torture the Snake for his own entertainment, now blaming him of three deaths.
First, the Dragon found out the Snake had ordered Anastasia's execution. Indirectly, he was also to blame for Vincent's accident. Now though, he had crossed the limit of the Dragon's politeness.
"Anything you do and anyone you kill won't matter. You can't bring him back," Caterina noted on a dry, bitter tone.
"Perhaps, but this is war… I will skin him alive and feed him his insides." The more he imagined it, the calmer he felt. The Dragon was rarely the type to dirty his hands – he had always paid others for that, people specialized in torture. However, this time it was personal. He wanted to see how much he could damage the Snake while keeping him alive and conscious.
"Do you want me to call Misa? She probably has some details," his girl offered and the Dragon nodded.
"But not here. I'm not in the mood to hear her." The man was in the mood to kill, trying to keep his self-control.
Nodding, Caterina went to her room, turned on the light and called Misa. It was late, but the blonde was certainly awake.
Once left alone, the Dragon stood and paced his room several times like a caged animal. His hands were trembling with rage and he could feel his throat tightening with anger. He was getting a headache going down on the back of his neck and spreading over his shoulders. 'Diego is dead', he read Misa's message again and again from memory. If there was one innocent working for him, it had been Diego.
The more he thought of him, the more enraged the Dragon felt. He never really saw Diego as a man – to him, he will always stay as a little crying boy, not understanding anything but looking up at him with the hope and trust only a five-years-old can show to a complete stranger. The Dragon remembered the day Diego set foot in his office with a scraped knee and elbow. His shirt was a little too small and his pantaloons too short, but his mother kept her promise. The child was healthy and clean.
That day, his mother received the equivalent of all the money he had sent her for the past five years, doubled in one day. He hasn't heard from the woman since… Not until someone told him she tried to make it back in the industry and someone killed her. His guards found her body in the trash. Now, Diego was dead…
Restless, the man went into the gym and began taking out his anger on the punching bag. He didn't get close to Diego while he was in the hospital exactly because he knew that would have made him a target. He hadn't realized that by leaving him alone, he was doing even worse. For the first time in many, many years, the Dragon felt his hands stained with blood – that of his brother. They may have had no real blood connection, but the Dragon considered him a brother. Diego was the only child of his adoptive father, after all.
In her room, Caterina was trying to hold back. When she could no longer control herself, she hang up on Misa and began crying silently. How many times had she ran away from some fancy fashion store, found Diego waiting in the car and complained to him about her mother? He would listen, laugh, then go buy her ice cream.
For the first time, Caterina was standing in front of a cold, hard fact. She had never imagined the fatality of death to be so heavy. Whoever her father tortured, whoever he would slaughter, it didn't matter anymore. None of that was going to bring Diego back. The girl no longer wanted a payback, she wanted him back – she wanted him with that optimist taken to ignorance and that goofy smile he put on whenever she tried to make him see reality.
In a way, it was frightening. All this time, it seemed like a game. Her father would kill bad people, corrupted and with no morals, the scum of society. Now though, she began to wonder… how did Diego die? What was he thinking when he knew his life would be shortened so? She began thinking of all those men her father slaughtered. They sure had families, who had friends and families and so on, in a spider web of grief. Her father might have finished off a bloodline, but it was only one thread of the web.
Perhaps… there was a point of view she never considered, one from where they looked like the bad guys they've been taking out together for the past year. The thought was coiling into her mind like a parasite. Her father, her hero had not only his hands stained… He was covered in blood. Caterina remembered how he looked that night she nearly got kidnapped, with the motel burning behind him. He was bruised, covered in ashes and blood. Her mind saw him as a Fallen, raising from hell and walking on earth. Now she knew she had never been as close to the truth as she had been that night.
Author's Notes:
As usual, let's thank our favorite beta reader AbandonedSock for proofreading this chapter.
Now on with the references... The Snake is watching Psycho (1960), with that famous shower scene I think everybody knows even without having see the movie. It's interesting to see, if you've got a thing for psychos... and you just might, if you favor Light. The dialogue you hear in Bastille's song 'No Angels' are also from the same movie.
There are some theories that the prince of hell, Lucifer or however you want to call him - he's not exactly the evil maniac the media pictures most of the time. I think it's interesting to note the Voice thinks of the devil as simply someone punishing the evil, an idea which Kira would probably love to have associated with his name.
Diego's last name literally means 'abandoned' or 'forsaken'. This is the part where the more ironic of you will go "No shit?" but no, seriously, it kind of fits him - and not just the way he died. You didn't save him, so now I'm trying to make you feel bad for him, to be perfectly honest. Also, Diego's character was initially inspired by Matt.
No, it wasn't absolutely necessary for Misa to be watching Romeo and Juliet, though the ending of Death Note resembles that of Shakespeare's play... at least from Misa's romantic perspective. That will not happen in my story, so I decided to play that card now. Also, here's a spoiler for the end of Gospel for the Wicked - Misa does not commit suicide after Light's death. That's a step further from a pathetic ending, right?
But enough with the references. I want to thank toxic click for leaving a review. I'm glad you find the story interesting, though I don't understand what you mean by "hating all of them". Do you hate all of the characters? If so, how do you keep reading?
As usual, review to make sure you get an update as soon as it's ready. Messages are always welcomed, I just thought I should remind you that. I'm glad to see new people who follow and favorite the story, as well.
