Chapter 2: The Final Kick
Matsuda returned to work as always. It would be a while until they examined the factory, the report stated that the children got into an accident after running away. Who wouldn't believe that? Without a father or a mother, just daycares and school teachers to take care of them. Now they were gone. Just the idea made Matsuda burst into tears. He would stop these rioters, no, he thought, these creatures, by any mean's necessary.
"Matsuda" spoke a man behind him making him jump.
"What" Matsuda said barely audible.
"I'm, I'm sorry about your children, and we were wondering if you'd like to come with us for a drink?"
An awkward silence filled the room. Matsuda sat hunched over his favorite photograph, He and his kids all blowing pinwheels. His son had the most ridiculous smile on, but it was completely genuine. Aiko had beautiful blonde hair flowing in waves down to her shoulders. she was only 11 at the time but knew how to take care of her little brother. She was a born leader, or had to become one. Their parents had abandoned them after a fight. They were relatively unnoticed before then anyway.
"Sure" he said in the same monotone voice.
At the bar, things were lively. Several drunks danced in an awkwardly beautiful fashion. People laughed and smiled. Small talk and big talk was made. The simplicity of things in this area of the world made Matsuda smile. It felt like ages since he last did and it was a good feeling. Of course, everything proceeded to fall apart. A domestic violence situation turned into a bar fight, turned into a all out brawl, turned into more arrests, turned into another Kira riot against the Japanese police, turned into a shoot out, and where was Matusda during all this? Sitting in his chair watching in horror and delving deeper into the cruel dark recesses of his mind. In a fit of rage, he ripped the black notebook out of his suit case. Names and numbers spiraled in his head. He had to clear them. He moved them from his head onto the notebook. Voices screamed in his head. Telling him to kill them, to save them, to protect himself, to sacrifice himself.
"Shut up!" He screamed. It wasn't normal though, it cracked and squealed, like a bullet exiting the chamber of a gun. He began to write down name in a mixed matched fashion. Names streamed up, down, across, every direction. Sometimes he would write down Kira, or criminals, or Light Yagami. Still the voices continued to scream so he wrote down more. Eventually, one of the brawlers struck him in the head and he fell unconscious, his pen still firmly gripped in his hand, still carrying out the motions to write names.
He awoke in a bright room. It wasn't white, so it wasn't a hospital. He started to rise, but a pounding headache forced him onto the floor. "floor" he thought trying to grasp any bit of reality he could find,. He began to look for colors but everything seemed to spin. looking down, he realized he was laying on pictures. Thousands upon thousands of the same framed picture, Matsuda and his two children, happily holding their pinwheels. Suddenly, the walls began to laugh, then scream. "Father!" the walls called out. Numbers and letters floated in space, swarming like locusts. Suddenly everything stoppes, and the pictures began to crack, each setting off their own small explosion of glass, paper, and terror. As if the room collapsed, everything turned dark, then white, fuzzed as if he were looking through water. Somebody was screaming. No matter how hard he shut his ears, the noise still pierced his brain. Things began to some into focus and he looked around trying to find the source of the horrible sound. Suddenly, someone forced their hand over his mouth and the sound stopped.
"Finally" he thought, until he realised what that met, just in time for a syringe to pierce his arm forcing him back into the darkness.