Bwhahaa!! First chapter!! Sorta... Anyway this should be great!! x3

Disclaimer: If I owned this would I seriously be sitting at my computer writing this and putting it here instead of sitting in a hot tub on the beach?

I believe the best place to start would be, naturally the beginning even though, technically, I've already started from the end. Either way, the beginning. The death of the only other person in Wammy's House besides myself from the very beginning. A. Alternative. The second L. Although I never knew his real name, I knew him very well. We were close, even through the rivalry of being L. A was, of course, smarter then I was, but that soon faded. His mind began to deteriorate within the confines of the orphanage we called 'home'.

A, though intelligent, was rather...emotional, to say the least. The smallest things seemed to upset him. I never understood why and I have yet to figure it out to this very day. Nevertheless, this was simply the way he was. Roger, the 'headmaster' of the House decided to give the other boy a taste of L's ability. I watched from the door. I saw the numbers above his head lessening. I knew what he was going to do even before he did. He was going to kill himself. I saw his knees begin to shake, I watched his sweat fall from his brow, his calm composer had broken. I don't believe Roger had seen this happen to him or predicted what would happen, the fourteen year old boy was too smart for such a stunt. Even twelve year old me knew that this assumption was wrong.

One week later the funeral was held.

By this time other children had been excepted into Wammy's but none had gone out on that stormy day to the funeral of their comrade, their classmate. Only me. It is possible, I admit, this is where all my homicidal tendencies began to progress in alarming degrees. Seeing A's cold, lifeless eyes staring up at me gave me a sadness I could not comprehend. A was my best friend and, though the age was very young, my boyfriend. My lover, really.

As the rain pounded on the windows of the church I swore that I would make L pay for what he did to A. What he did to me. What he was destined to do to all the others in the House, though I never cared much for the others. The lightening flashed and thunder rolled but I never moved from the open casket of A. Not until he was properly buried six feet under the ground.

Even after he was buried, I stood, silent in the pounding rain, waiting for the rain to stop. For my tears to stop. I wanted nothing more then to feel nothing. To die. To make him, L, die. I wished for nothing more. I was so consumed in my thoughts I had not heard the squishing of footsteps behind me. It wasn't until I felt the latex glove of another person did I realize I was not alone.

My heart stopped and I jumped slightly when the hand landed on my shoulder. I turned my head to look who was there. It was a boy, maybe a year or so older then myself. He was not dressed for the horrid weather in his, now soaked to the bone, baggy white long-sleeved shirt and equally as baggy pants. His hunched form and sleep deprived eyes, hidden slightly by the messy, wet mop of black hair, made me skittish of the boy. He looked at me, his dark eyes boring into mine, before he looked over at the fresh grave.

"Was he your friend?" The other boy's voice was shaking slightly, almost unnoticeably. He looked down at me and I looked above his head. L Lawliet. My eyes widened and my mouth fell. This...creature, for lack of a better word, couldn't be...could he?

All I could do in my shocked state was nod slightly and look back at A. "I'm sorry." His hand dropped and he looked up as I looked back. "Do you hear them?" I looked around and listened carefully. I heard nothing. He looked back to me and my confused face and hunched over more so that we were nose to nose.

"The bells. They are ringing for A." With that he left me, his haunting words still ring in my head like the silent bells he was speaking of. That was the first time I had ever met the great L. But I assured myself it would not be the last. Though he may have not meant to, just being there, being at that funeral, was taunting me, mocking me. I, for lack of a more reasonable word, loved A. I was not about to let him die without a fight. This is when I decided I would beat L at his own game. I would make a case he could not solve. I would become the World's Greatest Killer, the only thing in the way of the World's Greatest Detective. L is after B, afterall.

13131313131313131313131313

It hadn't taken long to figure out what I was going to do. I'm not sure the exact moment I finished thinking things through. It took at the most a week. I knew exactly what I had to do. I had to become the person I hated, the man I loathed. I had to become L. And so I did just that. I became L, right down to his looks.

I had natural ebony hair and dark pools for eyes, but my hair was rather long at the time. I took scissors to it that night. My long locks covered the floor. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. So far so good. I grabbed my clothes, all but the ones identical to L's, and burned them in the fireplace downstairs. As the flames grew and cackled I smiled and began to laugh with the sound of the fire. The very substance that I had planned to be my demise.

The next day, I walked downstairs and the whispers and stares began. Before this I had been rather protective of my hair and clothes. I was a Narcissus, I do admit. They had all kept themselves, horrified of saying anything that would make me snap. I also had quite the temper. But all day all I did was smile to myself. I couldn't be angry at something I did to myself, they simply didn't know what I was planning. Fools.

Over the next few years, I had become more or less obsessive with my L-like behavior. I had hacked into the Wammy's data base, a rather difficult thing to do really, and studied everything about L. By the end of this intensive study I was his exact copy. From the way he looked, to the way he sat, to the way he ate, to the way he thought, even down to the way he talked. I suppose it was unhealthy to make this change, but it was necessary for my revenge. I was 16 when I left Wammy's to fulfill what I had planned.

Like Mello had mentioned in his 'notes' I choose L.A. for it's name. This was no lie. I knew those remedial police officers would name the case the L.A.B.B. Murders. It would only make sense really. The thought of the case file makes me smile, even to this day, even though I failed. L is After Beyond Birthday. Catchy, no?

I had coveted what money I could lay my hands on and caught the plain to Los Angeles, California in America. My first steps inside that American airport I began reconsidering this. I was but a child, as intellectually elite as I was this was still a fact. I had money left over and was about to pay for a ticket back to England when the image of A slicing seven deep L's into his wrists washed over my mind. I clutched my hand around the money and turned on my heel, leaving the airport in a huff, hunched over and bare-footed.

I had bought an apartment under a false name and paid for everything I had in cash. In the beginning I didn't have much. I lived in a rat infested Hell hole and slept on the mattress of a futon. Though this mattered not to me. I had a purpose, and I would make this work until I did so. I had gotten a small job to make end's meet and I got by living on my precious strawberry jam, an affect of imitating the great L.

Weeks had passed since I arrived and I had found my victims. Believe Bridesmaid. Quarter Queen. Backyard Bottomslash. Nothing similar except their names and death days. I wasn't about to kill someone on a day they couldn't die, it's impossible. No matter how hard I would try. That didn't matter much. All I had to do was wait. Waiting I could do.

Ready or not L, here I come.

Read and reveiw pleeeease! x3