Wow, the longest chapter yet, with a total of 1,525 words. Unfortunately, writer's block struck in the middle of it, so it took a while to finish.

Also, I'm afraid L won't really be showing up in this chapter. Sorry to disappoint, but the next chapter, no matter what, he will make his appearance. Anyway, review please! The story depends on it!

Disclaimer: I don't really need one yet! Yay! I'll do it just for kicks though. Death Note was never mine, will never be mine, and isn't currently mine. Oh well, maybe next year.

Chapter 3

The first thing he remembered was the cloudy feeling permeating his mind. What had happened? He was sure this wasn't the laboratory, for he wasn't on the bone-chilling floor, nor on a rock-hard cot. So, if he wasn't in the lab, then where was he? The surface underneath him didn't feel remotely close to anything that existed in the laboratory.

Not yet willing to open an eye, but too restless to continue lying there, Subject 123 slowly shifted around on the strange surface. Roving hands were met with soft fabric, heated by the warmth of his body. That confirmed it, this wasn't the lab. So where was it? Cracking his eyes open, 123 slowly took in his surroundings.

He was lying on a clean, white bed. The same white also decorated the walls and ceiling, but it was nothing like the white of the laboratory. This had a soft, creamy tone to it, much like vanilla frosting. 123 was almost sure if he licked the walls they would also taste of vanilla, but that was stupid, because walls were never flavored. It was tempting though.

As he took in the area, 123 might have noticed the queer qualities of the room, had he experience in the outside world. This room held no windows or doors, not a single one. The only furniture in this space was the bed on which he had awoken. The most outstanding thing in the room was the mirror. It spanned the entire width of the wall, starting at one side, and ending at the other. The mirror would have been suspicious to any normal person, but was only a little odd to 123. For him, this new territory was already, in it's own right, very odd, so he paid it no heed. What could a mirror do to him, after all? It couldn't hurt him, of that he was sure, so he let it be. On the other hand, the mirror itself may have been of no importance, but the reflection shown within was quite the opposite. Subject 123 had never before seen his reflection so clearly. Of course, there were reflective things in the laboratory, but never something so much as this. Actually, he had never seen his face before, beyond a warped impression in a spoon, or a puddle in the hallways, for the laboratory had no mirrors.

123 took the time to change that. Truly seeing this part of himself for the first moment in his memory, he took everything in. The glossy auburn hair was the first thing he noticed. He knew he had brown hair, as it was easy to see it from the bangs hanging just slightly in front of his eyes, but this was different. Finally seeing it from the outside, as someone else might see it. Looking into his chocolate eyes, at the carefully sculpted nose, all the way down to the full, soft lips. There was a word to describe what he was seeing, and he tried to remember. Was it called beautiful? In the lab, there had always been others, but they were ordinary, and every day. Some had scars, other pretty features, but it was all so very ordinary, lopsided or straight. This was different. So very different, and so beautiful. No one in the lab looked like this.

Suddenly, realizing that he had been staring at his reflection for so long, 123 tensed for a moment before walking to the bed again. Too silly, staring at himself in vanity like the others did. It didn't matter if he saw his reflection, it mattered so very little, because he wasn't like them. Looks didn't matter when there were more important qualities to consider, like intelligence and personality. Even now there were more important things to do than get caught up in self-narcissism. Things such as finding out where he was, and obtaining food. Having no food would be of consequence later, but as he currently wasn't hungry, it could wait. Where he was was of much greater significance. Was this still the lab? It couldn't be, the very atmosphere itself was different here. Regardless, 123 wished he could've been taken here sooner. It was so much nicer than his cramped cell. If this wasn't the lab though, it was impossible to tell. The small barred window in the door of his cell was non-existent here. As was the door, now that he was thinking about it. That was crucial piece of information, how was he taken here in the first place?

At that moment there was a strange sound, coming from above the mirror. 123 looked up, seeing a small microphone and camera placed there. How stupid was he not to realize that before? Had he been that caught up in his narcissistic examination? The speaker appeared to be saying something, so 123 decided to listen. They might tell him where he is, after all.

"I am sure you are wondering where you are. You are not in the laboratory. I will be asking questions, and you are to answer them by shaking or nodding your head. Do you know your name?"

123 nodded. This seemed to catch the speaker off-guard, as they were silent for a minute. Of course he knew his name, it had been assigned to him when he first entered the laboratory. It was 123, just like the person next to him was 124, the next 125, and so on. More importantly, he now new where he wasn't, and that was the lab. He was free of that vile, white, oppressive place, hopefully forever. The speaker continued then, and he was forced off his thought pattern.

"Do you know the year you were born?"

That question he didn't know. He knew when he had entered the lab, but not when he had been born. How he had tried to remember though. It was a significant thing, that was a fact. Why, he had no clue, but he yearned to know. Did this person know, were they testing him to see if he knew as well, or were they simply trying to gather information? No, if they wanted to actually know his name and birth date, then they wouldn't have told him to shake and nod his head. They would have had him tell them, not answer yes or no.

"Do you know what year it is?"

Year? How would he know what year it was? This also seemed an important fact, maybe even more than his birth date, but he know the year he entered the laboratory, so this wasn't a terrible surprise. No one knew the year, or even the date, in there. He promptly shook his head, wondering if answering these questions would make him look stupid in the eyes of the person speaking. Certainly, if they had an degree of intelligence about them, they would know this was a simple lack of knowledge, and not a show of stupidity.

The speaker asked no more questions, and after a few minutes, 123 lay down on the bed, gazing up at the ceiling. What had he done to deserve this? The aesthetics and atmosphere may be better than the lab, but being kept prisoner with no food, water, or even a door to know he hadn't been bricked up in here alive couldn't be made up for simply with good atmosphere . Even worse, the questions asked by his mysterious observer had uprooted delicately placed feelings of listlessness and anxiety. His own question, the one he had asked himself every waking minute before it was quashed deep into his subconsciousness had climbed into his consciousness once more. Why couldn't he remember? Nothing existed before the lab, not a memory or feeling. Basic knowledge remained, as had speech, social understandings, and other random useful, yet useless, skills. However, nothing consequential, nothing to suggest anything had existed before remained. Now that he knew something else existed, he wasn't going back to the laboratory, no matter how painful it became. There was a life outside the lab, it was confirmed. Nothing could take this knowledge away.

As 123 thought through this, he failed to notice the open door leading out of the room. What had once been wall was now an exit to the life outside of the laboratory. When 123 did become aware of this, he hastened to the door at once. It had no doorknob, and would look exactly like another piece of the wall if closed.

Finally, Subject 123 had a doorway to this new world. Beyond it he could see nothing but shadows, remnants of fleeting nothingness. Yet no matter how ominous it looked, 123 had vowed to himself, no pain, physical nor mental, could stop him from reaching for this goal. So, with this final thought, 123 stepped through the doorway, into the shadows, searching for what he couldn't see. After all, what could be worse than a non-existent life? Nothing.

Almost as a whisper in the recesses of his mind, something that could be mistaken as one of his own thoughts, something hissed back. "What indeed?"

Don't ask about the last part. It is part of the plot, and I won't tell what it was, cause it would ruin the story. For now, it's just an unimportant way for me to end this chapter.

Ugh, the ending sounded just a little too cliché for me. I liked it though, cause it gives off a positive vibe to what could be (and is) a morose, angsty story.

Oh, and the part about Light almost wanting to lick the walls, just to see if they did taste like vanilla was so funny, I just had to put it in. It was probably more of an L thing though. Heh heh, if L ever did decide to lick a wall though, I would most definitely want front row tickets.

So what did you think? I'm debating between three different chapters for the next one. The first would explain what happened behind the scenes while our poor little subject was in solitude. The second would be a flashback of his first arrival in the lab, and the third would continue on with the story from where it left off. Which one, which one? I'll leave it up to the people who decide to review! Tell me though, 'cause if you don't, I get to decide. Heh heh!

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