A/N: Heh, alright. Thanks for the positive feedback, you guys. It's nice to have some encouragement. You know what's cool? I like the new "Reader Traffic" thing-a-mabob. It shows hits and visitors and the countries they're from—so cool to see readers from around the world.
Though, major props to aisling13 for helping me out a bit. It's nice to know about the book itself, and the murders within it. Also, it's good to know about how he had appeared within the book as he impersonated L. You've been a great help. :)
In this chapter, obviously, more gore. Oh, and Beyond's thinking, because he's Beyond and I'm going to attempt to delve into the psyche of a madman. Oh, and a tad bit of a timeskip.
Disclaimer: It ain't mine; Ohba/Obata got to it first.
"That'll be five-fifty, sir," said a rather bored-looking teenager, as he held his hand out expectantly to the buyer; whose red-tinged eyes only glared back. At first, the figure made no movement, to the cashiers extreme annoyance; mumbling under his breath about the creeps that come out at night. "Sir, please—"
"Right," the man before him smiled, reaching into his pocket and extracting a ten-dollar bill. He held it as it were a diseased object, and almost threw it at the teen's face. The boy only grunted and opened the register. As he did so, a scowl found its way onto the man's face.
Such disrespect was unbefitting for someone such as himself, Beyond thought, snatching the bag and his change quickly and stalking away. That boy, Mitchell Markson, had a Death wish, he thought, a tiny mewl of pleasure escaping his lips as he exited the convenience store. 'Two days left to live, Mitch.'
With that fact stored to memory, Beyond milled around the area for a bit, before perching himself atop a park bench. He fiddled in his bag for a moment, before pulling out a jar of strawberry jam.
His eyes lit up as he made haste to unscrew the lid, and his fingers began to twitch in anticipation. He'd gotten lucky when he did off Barnaby Botchinson the night before; for the man himself had been loaded with at least two-hundred dollars on his person. But, no matter..
A rather contented sigh rumbled in his throat, as his fingers found their way into the confection. He twirled his fingers in the gooey red substance for a good while, looking for the world like a man who had won the lottery, before scooping a handful into his mouth. He chewed and slurped lethargically, his eyes fluttering closed as a grin materialized. His lips popped as he finished, and thin fingers disappeared into his mouth as he sucked each digit in a meticulous fashion.
Yes, B nodded as he dug his hand into the jam, this was better than the normal human's blood. In fact, this was too good to not be a sin. A moan bubbled forth as his tongue flirted with his coated fingers. He drew together that this was just as good as sex. If anything, maybe slightly better.
A heavenly image wormed it's way into his head, and he bit at his thumb; anticipation was coursing throughout his body as he stood up in haste.
"Oh, my little Lawli, I cannot wait much longer." His gaze directed toward the starless sky, and he slowly blinked; a dangerous smile appearing on his pale lips. He stalked off toward an ambiguous location, the bag hanging off of his wrist as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. A vision of a jelly-coated, bloody L prone before him danced within his head, and his thumb found its way to his lips.
"No, this cannot wait much longer.."
A sudden chill had found its way through L's body, and he squirmed to rid himself of the odd feeling that had manifested itself within him. A feeling of dread welled within his chest, but he cast it off as something that pertained to the case before him- he was, after all, examining the deaths that had occurred the previous night before.
"Thirteen Kira-related deaths were reported last night, Ryuuzaki." Mogi handed the documents to the detective, who gave a slight nod of approval. His large eyes scanned over the documents, before he placed them beside his treat—a tower of cookies. He took the topmost confectionary and bit into it, taking slow, deliberate bites. He swallowed and turned to the man.
"Thank you Mogi, but I would like you to scour the papers again, and make sure that that no other deaths are suspicious enough to pertain to the case." As he spoke, he licked a bit of chocolate off of the tip of his index finger. As he did so, he noticed that the teen beside him seemed to be staring in his general direction.
He turned his gaze to Light, whose eyes had glazed over slightly. It seemed that the boy was in deep contemplation of something, but L decided it best if he broke the teen's musing. He waved a pale, bony hand in front of his victim's face, almost smiling as Light jumped at the action.
Honey brown eyes met his and L tilted his head with a look of pure naïveté etched onto his porcelain face. "Yes, Ryuuzaki?"
"Well," he chewed on his thumb carefully as he spoke, wide eyes unblinking, "you were staring at me. I was just wondering if you wanted one of my cookies." At that, his thumb left its place at his mouth as he used the hand to wave at his treats.
Light gave a soft smile and shook his head. "No, no; thank you. I don't want any."
"Good," the man mumbled, as he turned back to his work. Light sighed at the man's antics and redirected his gaze to the ceiling. The day was turning out to be tedious, just as all of the other days had been.
That was until a large "W" in the Old English five popped up before the detective's screen. Even Ryuuzaki seemed unprepared for that, as he had a look of pure bewilderment crossed his features. "Yes, Watari?"
"Ryuuzaki, the head of the FBI is on line one," the elderly man spoke, his soft voice blaring through the speakers. All eyes that were pretending to look busy suddenly bore into the back of the detective's head, though the man seemed oblivious to the attention.
"Alright, thank you." He released a button on the computer and swiveled in the direction of the phone. In a manner most apprehensive, he pressed the button for the desired line and held the receiver precariously to his ear.
Soon enough, to the bemusement of the task force, he began to speak in rapid and hushed English. Even Light, who had prided himself in mastering said language, had a hard time following the speed in which the detective was talking. He did know, however, that whatever was being discussed was obviously something that did not please the man—for his tone of voice had risen sharply, and he sounded rather cross.
"So it's perfectly fine to call me a week after this began? Honestly.." The detective went silent again as the man on the other line began to speak, his the pad of his thumb being abused by his teeth. "Yes, yes. I can understand the circumstance, but that is another thing. This man needs to be—" more chatter, and Light sighed in relief as he cold now follow the conversation. "If you are already aware of that fact, then you would have known to contact me sooner. You've made a horrific error in judgment."
The conversation rattled on as L continued to chastise the head of the Federal Bureau of Investigation as if the man were a child caught in a cookie jar. Until, finally, L nodded. "Okay. I'm on it. Yes, thank you. You too." He dropped the receiver on the hook quickly, and made no other movements for several minutes.
Until, turning around, he quietly shuffled back to his seat and resumed his position; and, taking a cookie and shoving the entire treat in his mouth in a huff, he went back to scanning the document he had been studying beforehand.
"Uh, Ryuuzaki," Matsuda suddenly squeaked, standing up in a sheepish position. "if you don't mind me asking, what just happened? I mean, you seemed pretty angry and, uh, well.." He grew silent as the team's gazes once again focused on the spindly detective.
L sighed, and turned in his chair to face the rest of the room. "A man I had captured in one of my previous cases escaped from prison last week." As soon as the man made a statement, Light thought back to the day when he and Ryuuzaki had seen that one broadcast. Feeling a little more confident on the topic, he listened as the man drawled on.
"The head of the FBI has just told me that they presume the new string of murders is connected to the escaped convict. They have just asked my assistance in capturing him, yet again." He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, looking more wary than ever before.
"I don't get it." Light crossed his arm in habit and leaned back into his chair. "If they know who's committing the murders, then why don't they just apprehend him?" There was a chorus of grumbles as they acknowledged the question.
"Light-kun," again, the tired tone of his voice almost made Light take back his question. "there's a reason why I took up the case the last time." He took the time to glance at the teen's father as he spoke. "Yagami-san, I take it that you know something of the Los Angeles BB Murder Case?"
The man nodded slowly, before his eyes widened somewhat at the realization. "Are you saying that the same person responsible is the one on the loose?" When the detective nodded, Soichiro took a deep breath. "No wonder.."
"I don't get it." Aizawa seemed to have found his voice, and crossed his arms. "Why is that so bad? I mean, if you caught him once, then—"
"The only reason he was captured was by a fluke in and of itself," Ryuuzaki snapped in a cold tone. His hair hid his eyes from the room as he continued. "The man in question committed every murder with deliberate and extreme randomness, and never left behind any evidence to incriminate his self. He was able to leave behind a false trail of clues that threw off the FBI and me, though; making, in what it seemed, the perfect murder case. The only reason he was caught was because he had tried to kill himself, to make it look as though he were the last victim."
Light nodded, remembering the conversations he and his father had had when the murders had occurred. He thought back to when his father chattered on about the way the murders were handed out, how each of the three victims were completely at random. "So," he spoke slowly, thinking out his words, "what you're saying is you think that this man is impossible to catch?"
Ryuuzaki's head slowly turned in Light's direction, and he gave a deceiving smile. "I do not think so, Light-kun. Assumptions are ridiculous. I am saying that I am eight-seven percent sure that he is not going to be caught. But, sadly, I have to try. After all, he is killing in order to capture my attention."
There were a small string of gasps as the man ended his tiny speech. Even Light seemed taken back at the assessment. But, obvious to his nature, he was skeptical of the response. "How do you know he is doing this for you?"
"That," he turned back to his computer, touching the mouse to awaken his sleeping computer, "is classified information." Another cookie found its way into the detective's mouth, and he began to chew.
"Now, back to work."
The birds, it seemed, were too oblivious to the world for their own good. There, outside the windows of the apartment complex, they sang in melodious harmony for the rising sun. They did not know of the task at hand right before their very eyes—if they had, there would be no joyous music at the moment.
"Blackbirds singin' in the dead of night," a low voice sang, his head bobbing as he fought to remember the song he'd heard so long ago. He stood over a prone, unconscious body. "Oh, Mitch, you seemed to have fallen asleep."
He gave a quiet sigh and perched himself beside the teenager's limp form, studying the calm features of the unconscious boy. Mitch was a lot easier on the eyes when he wasn't making those hideous faces, B concluded.
He reached out and rested a hand on one of the teen's cheeks; feeling all of the acne scars that jarred the boy's skin. Idly, and with a bit of interest (B could not recall ever having acne) he began to pop the zits before him; the act seeming to amuse him a great deal.
Soon enough, though, he ran out—and the teen also seemed to be returning to the realm of consciousness. "Fiddlesticks." B pouted and stood, dusting off his bottom.
"Time to say good bye!" He smiled at the form, before leaping into the air and landing spot-on the teen's head; a sickening crack following the action. The human brain, Beyond noted, bore a similar texture to spaghetti.
He wiggled his toes, the particles of matter tickling him as he did so. But, however, he'd made a big mess. Frowning, he went about cleaning around the crime scene, before moving to the bathroom and cleansing himself.
As soon as he finished, he finished his mess and crept out of the building. It made it easier that there was not one camera about, for it made his escape all the more easier.
Wandering back to the park he had grown oh-so fond of, he reached under his bench before settling himself in his odd manner—jar of jelly in hand.
"I do say this is a fine reward to a lovely evening, don't you?" Of course, he was speaking to the air as he scooped out another handful of jam. And, shoveling the mixture into his mouth in a manner most sickening, he curled up with a content noise.
So far, so good, he speculated. He also knew that his plan had so far gone to fruition: The FBI had already contacted L. Not as quick as he had hoped, but they still managed to get the deed done. Now, all that was left was getting his detective out of Japan. That was where the problem lie—he needed to either force the man back to the US, or be forced to send himself to Japan; the latter of the two seeming more and more right by the day.
No, Beyond huffed, he knew he had to get out of LA; it was just a matter of him not wanting to. He had grown so familiar with the area, seeing as he stalked about it daily searching for his newest pet—his pets which were so, so fun to play with. But, his detective was smarter than that: Lawliet knew better than to wander off into the enemy's territory.
Then again, Beyond chuckled, he had run off to Japan to search for this "Kira" everyone speaks of. Kira seemed to be taking its toll on the detective, B noted with a scowl. That was bad, because Kira should know better than to tarnish the things that do not belong to them.
The very thought of the killer in Japan made Beyond's blood boil. That thing was the reason he was stuck in this predicament. He knew full well that L would've at least come to America—not necessarily Los Angeles (more like New York), but at least he'd be within range. But no, his prey was prancing around Japan playing tag with the newest enemy.
But there was one thing Beyond had that Kira didn't, and that was Lawliet's fear. Even though the pale detective would never admit it, B knew that whenever the detective looked in a mirror—or came across a jar of jam—his body would freeze up, if only momentarily. Yes, B laughed to himself, he had earned that control over the man. It was Beyond Birthday who owned the detective, not some cowardly figure who had not the courage to show his mug.
With that in mind, B found it much easier to drift into a calming sleep. As he dreamt, though, his subconscious was plotting away to its own pleasure. And, before he knew it, he had awakened with a new plan in mind.
"Of course," he murmured to himself, lightly tapping his forehead, "it's all so simple, really."
It seemed that he had all-but forgotten of his dual-citizenship—which made it all the more easy to move one step closer to his prize. He began to hum as tune as he shuffled off, idea rich in mind.
"London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down..
London bridge is falling down, my fair lady."
A/N: Again, with the semi-short chapter. But, sadly, I feel as though it needs to be ended here. I mean, the next chapter (hopefully) will be much, much longer.
BUT WHATEVER! Oh noes! The plot thickens! What's Beyond talking about, what is he gonna do?! That is for me to know, and you to find out! STAY TUNED!
Oh, and leave me a kind (or rude) review. I like to know who reads this.