Chapter 10
Disclaimer: I do not own "Death Note".
Author's Note: Thanks for reviewing! It's so very much appreciated, keep it up – even if you just write "good chap" or "bad chap" it'll still make me smile (probably not that last example, "bad chap", but you get the point). Of course longer reviews stating what exactly you liked and/or didn't like are even more well received. But really, like many other people in here, it's good enough to know if you guys are reading my story.
I thank you for the loyal compliments, faithful readers, enjoy this chapter – I've been looking very much forward to writing it, especially this first part.
Blood showered the white wall of the cell. Ran in little, greasy orbs downwards until they hid the floor, painting uneven lines of red behind them.
He coughed again. For some reason even more blood came up, running down his chin and then dripping quietly onto his white shirt. His face was hidden behind a coat of congealed blood, his breathing strained and somewhat whistling, but slow, as though every single breath he drew caused his world to collapse in pain. His shoulders were dressed clumsily in soiled bandages, once white, but now they were brown with blood. Their only purpose had been to stop the bleeding, so that he did not die before Kira was done with him. It felt like pain was banging it's burning hammers against his shoulders, but the pain was in a strange way absent from his body, as though he was watching himself form outside his earthly shell, he knew that it hurt, but he did not recognize the pain, even though he knew it belonged to him.
His hands were trembling either with fear or in a silent seizure, they were tied behind his back to the old chair he sat on. His clothes were torn and ragged, gashes and burns on his pale legs, on his hands and arms, even in his face which was covered by his dirty, black hair. His eyes, blue, were staring blankly downwards, watching his own blood hit the floor.
"Now get the hell outta here, you stupid kid!" The man, who I know is not my dad, throws his empty bear bottle after me, I, who am not his son, once again. I dodge it, not that it is hard, I have done it many times before, and when the false dad is drunk it is very easy.
Mum is sobbing quietly in her corner. She is bleeding, but she does not dry the blood off her face. She is just stopping her fingers into her ears while she is sobbing, shaking her head and muttering to people I cannot see. I wonder… does she have an invisible friend? If she does, he is not a good friend. She is telling him to be quiet and to go away. He must be bullying her, because her words are fading slowly away. She is scared of her invisible friend. Now she is just crying, swaying back and forth while shaking her head more and more. I do not like it when she cry. But she does that a lot. When she does it, I feel like crying, but I know I cannot cry, because then she will be even more sad. I do not want her to be sad. So I do not cry.
"I told ya to get outta here!" the man screams. His breath stinks. I hate him.
"No!" I yell back at the stupid man. "You're not my dad, you can't tell me what to do!"
"Oh yeah, punk?" His face is growing red. I know I should not have said it. Now Mum will be even more sad. I have made Mum sad.
His hand is shooting through the air. It stinks of sweat and bear and vomit…
He could see it coming closer, but he did not react…
It hits me in the face, on my nose, and it hurts so much…
The pain was throbbing and he knew the pain, it was too very familiar…
I can hear my nose breaking, it scares me, the breaking noise, it sounds like when you break a stick…
blood was flying…
… everywhere. Oh, how it is hurting me. I am whining as I am hitting the dirty carpet on the floor…
They were so cold against his cheek, the tiles, he could taste the blood one his lips, when he was trying to breath he drank it…
Mum screams with all her heart, and I know it is my fault that she is screaming, because I was hit by him, she does not like that.
I too… screamed.
Light frowned. Aballini must have gotten mad. There was blood all over the cell, on the walls, on the floor. It would take many hours to clean it up. He was just lying there, in the peal of his his own blood, perhaps unconscious. Light remembered with disgust how he had screamed before. Screamed with so much despair and regret that Light's only conclusion was that he had gotten mad.
The man with arms of a bodybuilder drew the blood of his fingers off in his blue inform, bowed down and raised the chair up once again. The young man just hung there, not moving.
The muscle man now grabbed the fag end of his cigarette, still glowing, from an ash tray. He lifted it up, grinning evilly. Raised Aballini's chin and pushed the black hairs away from his face.
Yes, he did appear to be unconscious. Light thoughtfully supported his chin in his hand as he leaned back into the chair, his throne. Muscle opened the prisoner's one eye a little. Light saw it all through the screen and the cameras. Muscle slowly taking the fag end closer and closer to the white eye ball…
"Stop," Light said, pressing the little button which turned on the speakers in the cell. Like those L had used when Light was confined. He snorted triumphantly at the memory. Confined.
Muscle froze, a little disappointment on his ugly face.
"It'll be impossible to get anymore out of him today. Release him and send in a doctor to stop the bleedings." Light released the button and watched, still thoughtful. He smiled briefly.
William was just like the rest of them. In the beginning, when they woke him up him in the cell with some icy water, he had been going on about where his comrades were and how about there condition? Of course Light did not tell him anything. Why bother? The idiot had said that he would reveal to Kira everything if his two accomplishes were released. Yeah, right. They both new that was a lie.
Everyone ended up cracking. Everyone. All of them. No exceptions. Of course he had not gotten anything out of that George Clemens character, but… That was insignificant, he had not even started the real convincing-him-to-speak yet. Clemens had had to die, because he was a threat to the perfect world. Light would have cracked him if he had only tried.
So, he had finally gotten Aballini. Light watched the screen expressionlessly as the doctor entered.
Everything would appear to be finished by now. That whole resistance-thing. He should be celebrating. It was not quite over, though, until Aballini was dead. But even then… Light knew there was more to it. That insider… He was almost sure there was one. That would be the last brick in the puzzle. It would explain how Clemens had gone about the guards. It was the only way. And it got worse. That insider knew about the Death Note, that was for sure. Which made him even more dangerous. There were three ways of him to know about the notebooks: That Mikami had betrayed Light, another Shinigami in the Human Realm or… a new L. Like he had been thinking for what seemed a lifetime ago. It seemed to be the most likely possibility of those three. Was it possible for anyone to escape Whammy's? Yes, it was, now that he thought of it. What an idiot he had been. Not to search for any survivors! Foolishly arrogant! So now, it turned out, he was dealing with someone from Whammy's, a detective. Someone almost as smart as himself. Maybe even just as smart, even though it seemed very unlikely. But that meant that that detective knew how to get about his traps and avoid him. It was someone he was with everyday, but who? Who? Who could possibly be smart enough to pull such a thing off?
Perhaps… Adéle Segan?
Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed. And that the thing with Will being "narrator" – I hope it wasn't to unclear what actually happened. If so, just tell me. By reviewing. Remember to review! I wanna hear what you think of my work :D.