Hey guys! I am soooo sorry about the long time without an update! It's one of my New Year's resolution to either get a chapter of this or a oneshot out at least every week or two weeks. I don't wanna leave you guys with nothing for so long!
Well here's the third chapter. We're introduced to two new awesome characters in this one!
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, etc etc. If I did, they'd all be dancing around in bunny suits.
Her auburn hair was windswept and knotted, flying out behind her messily as she was flown over the tarmac of the smooth road. Her head throbbed painfully and the icy wind that slapped at her exposed skin wasn't helping matters. Reaching up a delicate hand to knead her temples, hoping to ease the pain, but only being met with moist blood. It stained her small pale fingers to a deep red and she flinched away from it- though the warmth was welcome, that wasn't how she wanted to find it. The blood…No, her blood, was dripping down her fingers and hands and she stared at it with disgust before wiping it hastily off onto her ragged white shirt. Her breath came in short rasps and her throat was painfully dry, the air that rushed into her lungs only parching it further, if that was possible.
She couldn't help but get the feeling that something was very wrong here. Maybe that was something to do with the fact that she couldn't grasp anything. She couldn't remember where she was or how she had got there, where she was going. Hell, she couldn't even remember who she was clearly. Every thought that crossed her mind was blurred and only made half the sense it should have. The pain in her head was ferocious and her feet ached, and she couldn't recall what had done this to her. Her vision was blurry and it kept on being tainted red and then blue, lights flashing from somewhere behind her. She was moving fast and she didn't know where to, but wherever she would stop, she was being pursued by something with a wailing siren that rang in her ears. The pain made everything harder and it was even difficult to breathe sometimes. But she forced that aside, trying to remember what had happened before.
A single headlight illuminating the road she was racing over. Something heavy against her side, throwing her through the air. Flying. No, falling.
The memory sent her head reeling and she squeezed her eyes shut, reliving the moment. She remembered her heart feeling like it was locked in a vice as her eyes widened, she heard the squealing of rubber on the damp road. She could even remember the sickening crunch of the strong frame connecting with her side and the smacking noise her head made against the painted white stripes on the road she had attempted to cross. The only headlight of the motorbike was like a spotlight on her crumpled body but slowly all of that, all of the reality, was slipping away and in its place a thick veil of white blinded her before she lost consciousness completely, her mind smothered by the thick fog that had fell over it.
And now she was on another-or was it the very same?- motorbike, the wheels whirring and the engine purring softly as it revved, speeding along the highway, pursued by the loud police car that seemed to close more of the distance between them with every wail of the siren. Suddenly they changed course and she found herself flying over a newly mowed field, the police opting to take the road rather than follow their reckless path over someone else's property. The comforting engine was suddenly roaring as the speed dial swung around to way over 100mph. She clung tighter to the waist of the person in front of her and then her mind froze. Since when had there been someone in front of her?...Surely she should have noticed this? All this time, Jet, the fearless Jet, had been clinging to someone else, and even worse than that, she hadn't even noticed?
She splayed her fingers over the fabric of the person's jacket, feeling it slowly, moving her finger tips in and out of the cracks. For good measure she gave it a sniff and concluded it was leather. Then she slipped her arms around to the person's front and speedily slid the hands up over the flat chest, feeling over it thoroughly before being completely convinced this person was male. This was a new experience for her to be sure and she couldn't decide if she liked it or not yet. The air rushing at her face was certainly refreshing but she was scantly clad, wearing only her ragged shirt and dirty skirt, feet bare. It was all she could scavenge after growing out of her old clothes. The fact that they were the right size was only a bonus, and maybe even not. Having them big could often be good so she could ensure she could wear the clothes for a fair amount of time. Not very many women were murdered around the alleyways she had called home for the past two months, so getting new clothes was a big treat. It didn't matter if they were a few sizes too big.
Running through the twisting alleyways, searching desperately for a way to escape arrest. She couldn't be arrested or Kira would kill her. The pain rocketing through her legs. Yes, she would have to change course and leave the alleys, go over the highway and into the forest just beyond. Lose herself in there in hope that the police officer would lose her too.
Before she could help it, Jet was choking on the cold air she had breathed in. Tears streamed down her face and she fought to have enough air, even though it was basically being forced down her throat. Retching violently she sagged over and pulled her hands back from the male in front of her and placed her numb hands over her chest, eyes watery and wide as she gained her breath back. They were nearing the edge of the field as a smooth, deep voice called back to her. She was only just able to make out the words before they were swept away with the wind.
"Hold on, the road's bumpy up here. You'll fall off if you don't hold tight." Taking heed, the dark haired girl wrapped her arms tightly around the slender, leather clad waist, knowing that she didn't like her dependence on him one bit.
He had been right, though. The moment the wheels met the new road, they squealed and slowed slightly to cope with all of the potholes and swerve around all the murky puddles. The thought of splashing through a puddle and being soaked even more than she already was with her own blood and freezing her to the core wasn't appealing. Maybe another day, when she was drunk? Who knew? She had never been drunk before, but she heard it wasn't all that pleasant, especially afterwards. It wasn't really the time to think of this as it seemed that the police were going to catch on to them soon due to the faint wailing of the siren, but she needed to occupy her mind. A wave of pain shook her very core and she crumpled against the man in front, wincing and flinching, her hands moving spastically around on the leather. Risking another wave she raised her head to peek over his shoulder and was greeted with the mouth of a huge wide street swallowing the motorbike into darkness.
Hungry shadows seemed to pounce forwards and the only thing keeping them away was the headlight's reassuring glow. Houses loomed up, shooting straight into the dark sky. The broken windows were like eyes, their empty stares boring down on the top of Jet's bloody, throbbing head. Her body temperature was threatening to drop a degree and she was already feeling the beginnings of a cold and it only got worse as the rain splashed down from the heavy clouds that she hadn't noticed before. The siren's wailing had died away and Jet couldn't help but wonder if she had fallen asleep. The rain was washing away her blood and even though it made her cold she felt more comfortable whizzing through it rather than the dry, silent air that had clogged up her mind before. This was better.
Looking up, she could see the twinkling lights of a tacky casino coming up, the advertisements for countless new machines, offers that went out of date months ago and fading graffiti were illuminated by the little bulbs that flashed from orange to red to blue to yellow and then back to orange. It hurt the fragile girl's head and she shied away from it, ducking her head behind the shoulder of the man in front, her cheek being whipped by the silvery hair that blew out behind him. Although the whippings were harsh on her cold skin she could tell that his hair was well washed and soft like silk. She had the urge to catch one of the flying locks but as she raised her hand she realised what she was doing and dropped it back into her lap. Maybe she was in pain but she couldn't come across as needy or fragile, even though that's how she felt.
A huge wave of said pain overcame her and she crumpled down into the leather clad back, hardly able to contain a cry of anguish. Her vision blurred due to her welling tears and she roughly scrubbed at her eyes, her mind buzzing like a hive of angry wasps. And it stung like nothing she had ever felt before, not in her whole life. All of the pain seemed to drain her energy and suck it out of her like a parasite. Soon Jet, who was supposedly strong and independent, found herself leaning on the back of the man in front, his hair brushing over the top of her head as she began to fall asleep. Nothing felt realistic as her consciousness slipped out of her fingers like sand. Not the flashing casino lights that she could almost see from under her eyelids, not the whirring of the engine. The scent of burning rubber was like an illusion, the leather under her fingers a hallucination. She didn't even trust the blood that dripped down her neck to be real. Everything that had happened that day had just sped by her with all the qualities of a dream. Maybe, if she pinched herself she would wake up.
The first thing that Jet noticed when she woke was that she was no longer on a motorbike, clinging to a stranger for dear life. Already, a feeling of dread was settling over her. She was lain down on a dull coloured damp carpet that smelled vaguely of wet dog and alcohol, as if someone had recently spilled wine on it. It felt rough and her back ached from sleeping on it. When she craned her neck she could get a good view of the rest of the room, as she had been placed by the back wall. Looking down, she saw a moth-bitten tablecloth spread over her as a makeshift duvet, and she almost smiled. It was a kind thought, really.
To her right was a splintering coffee table with a broken leg. A tea mat was seemingly stuck to the frail frame and it was marred with scratches and sticky stains. The walls were painted a drab shade of green, only just visible under the peeling and curling grey wall paper. The walls weren't decorated and aside from the table there was only one other piece of furniture in the whole space. In the far corner by the yellowing wood door, a couch leaned on the wall, sagging into itself as if someone had flopped down on it one to many times. The cushioning was ripped, dirt coloured stuffing sticking out. Even from where she lay she could see the cigarette burn markings from someone stubbing out their cigarettes on the dull yellow fabric. A lone spider scuttled around in the corner above, weaving another web to add to the countless collection over the room. Despite its dirty and dank looks, the place smelt well lived in and something about that was close to comforting.
Going to stretch, something was keeping her wrists together. Biting on her lip and frowning, the young girl peered up and gasped softly, seeing the thick rope tying her wrists together. This wasn't good. Not good at all. Glancing around the room in a desperate attempt to find something to cut the rope with she saw a pocket knife placed carefully on the sofa arm. Sighing with relief, she began to stand up, the linen tablecloth falling from her body, but then something caught her eye. Something about her clothes. Her eyes trailed down and she let out a small squeak before blushing at the ridiculous noise. Whatever she was wearing, it certainly wasn't hers. She wore a pair of tight-as-hell leather trousers and a long sleeved black and white striped top in place of her usual dirty skirt and ragged shirt. If she wasn't wearing her own clothes, someone must have changed her in her sleep. Blush deepening, Jet shook her head roughly and walked to the arm of the sofa, sitting down and breathing in the heavy scent of smoke and nicotine.
Her feet were covered with large black boots so she couldn't grip the pocket knife between them, and eventually she let out an aggravated huff and gave up. This wasn't going her way in the slightest. Kicking the pocketknife down to the floor in her spite she stood from the surprisingly comfy sofa and edged towards the door, wary of what would be behind it. With some difficulty, she managed to turn the handle and pull it open, making sure not to let it hit the wall. Cautiously she peered around the room that had now been revealed. It appeared to be some sort of back room and kitchen. The walls were the same dank green from under the wallpaper in the other room and the tiles were grimy. The only clean things were a large box of chocolate bars which she had to keep herself from stealing, a TV, a stack of games and an assortment of games consoles. Those sorts of expensive appliances didn't seem to fit in with the simple surroundings.
Behind her was a dirty window that she could only just see through. It was grey but light outside and every now and then a puff of dark smoke rose and billowed past the window from the end of a cigarette. It seemed like one of the inhabitants of this place was taking a smoke outside rather than on the sofa. If she squinted, peering to the left, she could just make out an overflowing bin and beside that a flame of red hair. Deciding against seeking out the door to that path to talk to this person, Jet turned and walked towards the door that was positioned by an unused looking fridge that smelled of out of date dairy products. Curiously, she opened the door, and amidst all of the moulding cheeses and sour milk cartons, stacks and stacks of instant ramen were piled in abundance. In fact, she noted, the only kitchen appliance that was actually being used around here was a sparkling kettle, the markings on the on/off buttons wearing off. Did the people here eat any nutritious food at all? It seemed that they didn't.
Shaking her head, she closed over the fridge door, glad to escape the disgusting smell of mouldy cheese, and pushed open the next door. The light in here was blindingly bright and Jet had to shield her eyes with the crook of her arm, squinting slightly despite her efforts. This room appeared to be a garage. One wall was lined with pots of drying paints, rollers and saws, one shelf even piled with matches and bullets. In a box by the door a pile of broken guns lay, waiting to be put out into a bin. In the very centre 3 vehicles sat proudly. A stunning red corvette was pulled in at the far side, the keys in the ignition as if it was going be getting used soon. On the other side, nearer the shelves and boxes, a sleek black Ferrari that oozed sexiness, not a speck of dust marring its shiny onyx surface, emitted a glow. In between these was a speedy-looking black motorbike, a helmet hanging from the worn handlebars. Over the leather seat a heavy leather riding jacket was slung and Jet concluded this must have been the motorbike that had taken her here. So where was the rider…? It couldn't be the redhead outside, she remembered the silky hair was silvery in the moonlight, probably blonde in daylight.
A boot crunched down on the gravel outside the open garage door and with a muffled squeak the teen hopped over the box of broken guns and into the shadows in the corner of the shelf-lined wall. She winced when she felt a scalpel slicing her back but held back the small cry that she felt build up in the back of her throat. Blood slowly began to trickle out from the edges of the scalpel that was still in her back. The pain built up slowly until she couldn't take it, and just as a tall, blonde male sauntered into the garage she jerked away from it, the scalpel clattering to the cement flooring. The blonde head snapped around and sharp blue eyes pinpointed her without trouble. Quirking a perfectly shaped blonde eyebrow he cleared his throat and Jet stepped out into the bright light, wincing as it reached her eyes. She could feel the blood soaking the shirt she wore and wondered how big the rip was as she glared half-heartedly at the blonde, stomping around him in her boots.
"Yes, you caught me." She sighed, her tone blunt. She could almost feel the smugness radiating from the man who was seemingly following behind her to make sure she went back to the right room.
Behind her, the blonde scrutinized the rip in the top she wore and frowned. Matt wouldn't be happy about that, but at least it hadn't been his leather vest. He would have killed the girl if that had been so. Her hair was sticking to the liquid and he scrunched up his nose in disgust. The girl really needed a wash, to be frank. He didn't know what had come over him last night when he had pulled her onto the back of his motorbike and sped away with her to save her from arrest. Surely it would have been smarter to let her be arrested if she was committing crimes? But no, he had to be the hero. Letting out an aggravated sigh, he watched as she flopped down on to the floor where she had started and leaned back on the wall with a sad sigh, her stomach rumbling. She didn't seem to care if her blood stained the wall paper and Mello couldn't bring himself to tell her to move. She looked famished.
Jet was reasoning that maybe her blood would add colour to the unattractive wallpaper, slumping backwards. Although she had only just woke up she was already feeling tired again. Maybe that was because she hadn't eaten in over a day and a half? She couldn't bring herself to care too much, but what she wouldn't give for one of those bars of chocolate right now! As her stomach rumbled painfully loud she elbowed herself in the ribs, trying to make it stop. Of course it didn't really have the desired effect, only sending a shooting pain into her ribs, but it was the tiring effort that counted, right? Yes, that was right. Letting herself slip in and out of consciousness, the world beginning to have the scary dream-like state again, Jet was startled as something hard and rectangular hit her square in the face, waking her up instantly. She looked down at the rectangle that was now lying in her lap, wrapped in silver foil. Was this…Chocolate?
Eyes flashing with hope and hunger, she fiddled with the foil, ignoring the heavy stare of the blonde. When the chocolate fell from its wrapping into her lap she picked it up and scrutinized it, breathing in its rich smell. Unable to hold back any longer she devoured it hungrily, savouring the beautiful sweet taste that melted over her tongue. This was pure bliss, she noted, her stomach definitely agreeing. Looking up at the figure that leaned on the doorframe warily, wondering if the chocolate had been poisoned or this was some sort of ploy. Behind him, the door in the kitchen opened and the redhead from before stepped inside, scuffing his boots on the grubby floor and then shutting the door after him to keep out the biting chill.
The telltale scrambling from the kitchen told her that he was getting out a game and a pot of instant ramen. A moment later her assumptions were proved correct as the hissing of a kettle filled the air. Game music was playing quietly under the hissing and a moment later, the kettle slowly bubbling and hissing away in the counter, the redhead slipped past the blonde and collapsed wearily onto the sofa, earning a tired groan from the sofa's springs. Mello sent the boy a scathing look but the redhead didn't notice.
"Matt. Turn the fucking game off! Can't you see we have a…Visitor?" There was some sarcasm in his voice as he said the last sentence, and the boy she came to understand was called Matt looked up from his game, sparing her a quick glance before pausing his game and laying it to the side.
"Hm." He replied shortly, obviously not enjoying having his gaming time disrupted. The blond rolled his eyes but got straight to the point, turning to address Jet.
"This is Matt, and I'm Mello. Who the hell are you?"
Well, I did my best to make this one longer, seeing as the last one was pretty short. Did you like it?
Well, Matt and Mello have made their appearance, but what will happen next? Actually, I've kind of got it half planned out but I'm not telling!
Reviewers get cookies (: Flames will be used to keep me warm when I finally get to sleep (:
See y'all in a week or so!
~Trouble X