Author's Note: This update is way late and I am so sorry. It is the first thing posted of the New Year at least. Oh, and if I confuse anyone about how I switch from Light to Raito here is an explanation: Raito is the Japanese pronunciation of the word Light, so every time a native Japanese speaker says Light's name it will be written Raito, but if a native English speaker says his name or it is not a quote it will be written Light. Hopefully that cleared things up. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter Two: A Life Stolen

LIGHT'S POV

I slowly slid the silver knife out of the knife block and placed it inside a cheesy red gift bag. I looked over my shoulder. Luckily, this action had no witnesses. If someone had seen me then my perfect plan for tonight would have been ruined before it even had a chance to begin.

Tonight is the night. The night I kill the first person on my list. A murderer and a thief that they call Watanabe Haruki. Four years ago he broke into the Amane family household in the middle of the night with a gun. He shot and killed the three innocent people inside at the time (one of them being a little boy) before gathering all of their valuables and money. The eldest daughter, Misa Amane, had been sleeping over at a friend's house at the time of the attack. When she came home the next morning she found her entire family dead. The bastard only got four years in prison because he had an amazing defense attorney.

I began to walk towards the front door. I do not know this Misa Amane girl, and for all I know she could be an annoying and spoiled rotten brat, but she was an innocent. She had never done anything wrong before in her entire life. She did not deserve to have to go through this horrid hell. No one should ever have to find anyone from their own family lifeless. I cannot even begin to imagine how Sayu would feel if she was put in a situation like that. That is actually a quite ironic thing for me to think now that I ponder it deeper. Considering the fact that I almost put Sayu though a situation like that myself. But I am getting off topic. This beautiful act of justice is dedicated to that poor and unfortunate girl, Misa Amane.

I was almost at the door when Sayu side stepped and blocked my path, "Where are you going Raito?" She was so innocent.

My mother had materialized behind me, "I would like to know that as well Raito."

I had prepared for this. A blush spread across my cheeks as I pretended to be flustered, "Y-y-you don't r-really c-care about t-that." That stutter was perfect just as I had practiced.

"Yes we do. Now spill." Sayu insisted. She was also so stubborn.

I looked down at floor left of my feet, "Well… I am sort of dating someone. We have been together for a couple weeks now. Actually we have plans today and I was going out to meet them."

Sayu giggled, "Oh, so that's where you were last week when you didn't come home. You were totally getting it on with them."

"Sayu! You cannot just jump to conclusions about your brother like that!" Mom yelled.

Sayu was completely wrong. Last week I did not come home because I was committing man slaughter against a man that attempted to rape a woman who was incapable of defending herself, "Uh… Yeah… about that… Sayu is right…" Sayu did not need to know the truth about me. Mom did not need to know the truth about me. Neither of them will never ever need to know either.

Mom pretended she did not hear my last comment and hastily changed the subject, "And that's why you have the gift bag. What did you get her?"

I gripped the handles of the bag tighter so that my knuckles turned white, "A black notebook. I hope it isn't lame."

Mom was silent for a few seconds, "You will figure out how the female brain works one day. Until then good luck."

I giggled with fake nervousness, "Yeah… girls sure are complicated and scary sometimes. I am so glad I have a girlfriend to help me figure things out." I made sure to put extra emphasis on the word girl. This was the slightly tricky part of my act. I had to make what I was implying obvious enough for Sayu to notice it, but not so obvious that mom notices it. If mom noticed the implications she would freak the flip out.

My sister's eyes widened ever so slightly as the dawning a comprehension passed over her features, "Oh, I hope you have a good time big brother. You know that you can always tell me anything because I love you no matter what." Good. Sayu understood. Now I could only hope that mom did not understand.

Mom laughed, "Don't mind her Raito, she just wants the more scandalous details when you get home. I hope you have fun with your girlfriend. We should have her over for dinner someday." Mom did not understand or notice the implications I had just made. Just as planned.

I bit my lip, "I do not think having them over will be possible. They are always busy, but maybe one day in the future. Can I leave now?" Sayu nodded and stepped aside. She was staring at me as if she was reevaluating my entire existence. I walked out the door and shut it behind me.

I began walking towards the city bus station. I just caused my sister to believe that I am a homosexual. Well, technically I am meeting with another male. Am I a homosexual though? I never really thought about it before. I have had sex with a couple of the girls in my class before, but I do not honestly care for it. Sure it was a pleasant experience, but I still do not understand why it is all most people my age are capable of thinking about. I probably never will. Maybe I really am gay and just need a man to show me how euphoric and amazing sexual intercourse is supposed to be. Right now I do not care if I am a heterosexual or a homosexual. My sexual orientation is not relevant at the moment. I do not think it will ever be relevant.

I stepped onto the bus and sat down in the very back. What is relevant, however, is the new hobby I am about to start tonight. As much as I have planned, way too many things can go wrong. It could be a complete disaster, but was that not how it was going to end anyways. One day I will get caught. One day I will get the capital punishment due to the numerous acts of justice I will have committed by then. If I do not get the capital punishment I will get life in a prison or an insane asylum, and that might as well of been dying. I am sure this will happen, but I hope it is not soon. Did I ever really give up my plan to commit suicide or did I simply trade in a bullet to the head for something much more elaborate that is sure to get a whole lot more press coverage? I do like having a lot of attention.

Considering how stupid the police are now a days, it is completely possible that I will never be caught and the murders will stop because I have met my natural end or because I want to retire. It is not likely, but it is possible. This possibility is what I should aim for. It will be much harder to achieve in the event that the police have an active investigation on my case instead of me being immediately put on the back burner to go cold though. I will just have to make sure not to leave any convicting evidence behind and outsmart them at every turn. That should not be very hard.

I still have more problems coming my way. The first time I officially do this should not be very hard considering the fact that I have already taken a life before. But next time. I have so many more decisions to make about next time than I did about this time. Should I make it obvious to the police that these deaths are connected? Should I- I should not worry about things like this. Not right now at least. I should enjoy myself tonight instead.

There were only five other people on the bus not including the driver. On the bench on the left hand side of the door there was a happy and affectionate elderly couple holding hands that seemed to be looking over a sleeping toddler dressed head to toe in pink (their grandchild perhaps?). That pink toddler was something people could and should admire. I would be willing to bet that the worst thing that kid has ever done would be treating her bedroom walls like a coloring book. If only the rest of the world were like her. Well, the rest of the world excluding me. I would take care of the people, teach them right from wrong, discipline them, reward them, and they would love me.

But wouldn't that make me a god in this hypothetical situation? Yes, I guess it would. God. I rather like the sound of that. A god is all powerful and mighty. I have always been better than everybody else, so it is only natural that I become supreme ruler over them all. I can see them praying to me and setting up alters already. I was born for greatness. A god is great.

Being alone as a god would get tedious though. It is already tedious being alone now. My worshipers would always be there for me, but I would always be on a level high above them. I could comfort them, but they could never even begin to understand whatever troubles I might have. They could pray to me, but I would never be able to respond directly. The loneliness could possibly drive me insane after an entire eternity.

Maybe an old saying I heard once would be appropriate. What good is a god without his goddess (or possibly male co-god partner)? I would make a great god all by myself, thank you very much, but I am not sure about my feelings on the idea of sharing power. It might turn out to be nice. I would have someone to talk to. This goddess (I am referring to the deity as female for reasons of convenience) would have to be a perfect equal to me. No. No. No. Not an equal. She would have to be ever so slightly inferior to me so that I get the upper hand. The inferiority can only be slight though because she still has to be worthy of me.

Wait. What am I thinking? I am not a god. I will never be a god. Only gods can be gods. If keep having delusions like that then I will be carted away to an asylum without them having a single clue that I was a murderer.

The other two people on the bus were both business men. I wonder how many people they have stepped on to get where they are now. I wonder how much blood is on their hands. How long did it take for them to sell their souls? My money is on two years, unless their fathers were involved in the company. If their fathers were involved in the company then they were sold out before they took their first breaths. The bus came to a halt. This is my stop. I got off without looking back.

I took a look at my surroundings; the Tokyo nightlife. Some would say that all of the bright neon lights working together to illuminate the sky was the definition of gorgeous. I would never say that. It might be because I was raised out here and therefore used to this city, but it does not strike me as particularly remarkable. Home never does while you are there. I might appreciate the city lights more after I have left Tokyo for a while, but I was not sure if that is ever going to happen anymore.

I began to jog west. I did not have much time. Watanabe Haruki will be home from his job soon if he was not already. I would prefer it if Watanabe Haruki was not at his apartment when I get there, but I can't have everything. If he was already there I could still end his life just the same.

I stopped jogging once I had reached my destination. Watanabe Haruki's apartment complex. It was a very fancy and high class place like seemed more like a posh hotel than somewhere where people actually live for their entire lives. I quickly walked through the lobby and into the elevator as I completely ignored all other human life in the building. The elevator ride was quiet and peaceful because of the fact that I was the only person in the elevator at the time. When I reached the fifth floor (the floor Watanabe Haruki lives on) my heart almost leaped out of my chest. Who gave it the authority to do that? I sure as hell did not.

Room thirty one D. It was ridiculously easy to find. I took a deep breath in as I placed my hand on the knob. This was it. The moment of truth. From now on I would be a serial killer. Am I really capable of killing someone on purpose? I turned the knob. Unlocked. The door swung open. Watanabe Haruki is obviously not very smart. It is too late to turn back now.

Luckily nobody was home. Watanabe Haruki's apartment was anything but modest. He had an enormous leather couch, a polished wooden coffee table, and a hundred inch flat screen television in the parlor. I was sure that this apartment was bigger than my house and I had only seen the living room. I forced myself to stop glancing around. I did not need to know what he did with the money he stole from the Amane family.

I pulled a thousand yen note out of my back pocket as I plopped down on the couch made of leather. I pulled the kitchen knife out of the red gift bag and put the red gift bag on the coffee table in front of me. Since it could be a while before he arrives I decided to relax a little bit. I laid down flat on my back as I twirled the knife and the note above my head.

I heard the clicking sounds of a door opening. He is home. I got here on perfect timing. What else did I expect though? I am the definition of perfection after all. He slammed the door shut behind him and I heard him lock it. Very good.

He walked to the couch and was shocked to see me lounging there, "Who the fuck are you? Do I know you?"

I answered the terrible excuse of a man, "I assure you, Watanabe Haruki, I know you. You, however, have never even heard of me." I never took my eyes off of the pretty items I was dangling above my face.

Watanabe Haruki finally noticed the knife, "Leave! Now! Or I will call the police!"

I chuckled, "Oh my. He is threatening to call daddy on me. I am so scared."

Watanabe Haruki was totally horrified, "You are the son of a police officer!" He reached into his back pocket. I had no doubt that he was about to pull out his expensive cell phone.

I nodded disinterestedly, "Yes. I am the son of a police officer. I also plan to be a police officer when I am an adult. And I would not do that if I were you. The consequences are terrible." He dropped his phone behind him, "Good boy."

"Kid. I do not know what you are doing here, but whatever it is I can help you. You do not have to resort to this. I can get you the help you need. Whatever you are going though, you can get through it. Just put the knife down kid." Watanabe Haruki stammered. He thinks that I need help of some sort. How cute. I am perfectly capable of killing him without any assistance.

I threw the thousand yen note at him and he caught it, "Here have it. You seem to love it so much. Money that is. It is just a silly piece of paper. A silly piece of paper that people give you things for in exchange. A silly piece of paper that you heartlessly slaughtered three people over. One man, one woman, and one child. Did you know that there was another member of the Amane family? A daughter. A big sister. You left her penniless and orphaned. Tell me Watanabe Haruki, was it worth it?" He could consider it a final gift. I sat up and slid off of the couch.

He was frozen in spot, "I did not do it! I swear on my father's grave!"

I took a step towards him, "I know you are lying. You should not lie like that. You will find that it is not very good for your health."

I lunged at the man knocking him underneath me, "You will pay for your sins." I straddled his waist.

He struggled to get me off of him, but I held him him place, "Whatever you want. You can have it. Just take it." So we are negotiating now. I see how it works.

I grinned, "Thank you for your kind offer. I will have to take up on that because I simply cannot refuse such a bargain. I think I want…" I pretended to be going through a list of options in my head and Watanabe Haruki seemed immensely relieved, "I know what I want. I want your life. Goodnight thief."

I slammed the knife down into his chest. He opened his mouth to scream, but I covered his mouth with my left hand. He bit down hard. The asshole bit me. He will wish he had not of done that. I pulled the knife out and placed it in place a few inches away from the previous wound. Blood was flowing from both his chest and his mouth now. I took my hand off of his mouth. Red liquid was all over my hands and I liked it. I really liked it. I slid the silver knife out of him with ease. I started to laugh. Watanabe Haruki was dying like the pathetic creature he was. This was right. This was true justice.

In that moment, watching Watanabe Haruki die underneath me, I was a god. I remember that I reminded myself I was not a god earlier and that I should not think that I was because it was a bad thing, but maybe that was because I was not a god back then. I could feel the power surge though me and it felt amazing. Watanabe Haruki was reduced to a small nothing. I owned Watanabe Haruki. He belonged to me. Watanabe Haruki was a possession of mine. He was mine. He would be mine forever now. My possession looked me in the eyes with a burning hatred mixed with fear. Pretending to be feisty. I like it. Even in his last moments a liar. He finally stopped his foolish attempt at living. I did not stop laughing until he died.

I got off of the dead man and walked with a skip in my step towards his wall. I began to finger paint with his blood. I never thought I would do that again once I exited preschool. Finger paint I mean. I never thought I would have blood on my hands in the first place. I finished my message and I stepped back to admire what I had written.

I wrote on the wall 泥棒 in his blood. 泥棒 means thief. He was a thief. It would be best that everyone knows that.

I ran into his kitchen to rinse my hands. As much as I liked the blood I could not still have it on my nice hands when I left this place. The water washed over my hands and red went down the sink. I began to clean the knife. Mom used to use this knife to cook with. Not anymore.

The feeling of godliness had not faded yet. I did not want it to go away ever, but I knew that it would. I could not wait to do it again. Is this what being a drug addict is like? No. Drugs could not possibly be this good. I had to clean this apartment. Make sure that there were no traces of me. That should not be very hard. The police will not have anything to find besides a body and a message on the wall. I am not in the least bit bored anymore.

Author's Note: This chapter was a little fun to write. Although if the psychology is inaccurate about how a serial killer feels when he takes a life it is because I did all of the research for this chapter at two o'clock in the morning. And all of the serial killers I researched could also be counted as sexual predators. I hope you enjoyed this. Have any questions, comments, concerns, and or criticism? Please say so in the reviews.