Darker than Black: Shinigami No Owari

Chapter One - Behind The Mask (Part I)

Two Weeks Ago…

'The night is dark and cold, to say the least. The fake stars shine brightly, with one falling once every so often. Below, car horns can be heard echoing throughout the entirety of this concrete jungle. In other words, this is just like any other night.

My name? Is that something that really matters anymore? I was an assassin; a hitman; a Contractor. Well, that last one is open for debate. It would probably be better to say I'm a human with Contractor powers, after all. But to make it easier, let's go with the idea that I am Contractor, to avoid any complications

Once, I was at the top of the food chain. All other Contractors feared me, called me the Black Reaper. I worked with an organisation called the Syndicate, but they've vanished from existence almost entirely. To be honest, though, I prefer life like this, in some ways. Living in a peaceful apartment, with no worries of being hunted down and killed. Indeed, to an "ex-outlaw" such as myself, this should be heaven. The only problem is that it gets…lonely.

A little company wouldn't hurt, right? I mean, sure I have those down at the store keeping me socially active, as well as the variety of customers we have. But I mean actual company. Genuine company…

…But I guess this is what I deserve, right? After all the lives I've ended? All the people I've made suffer? My sister. Amber. Suou. Yi-'

"…Hei…"

Hearing something, I quickly turn around, breaking my concentration on preparing a meal. Scanning the living space behind me, I see nothing other than a sofa, armchair and dusty television.

Something isn't right.

I decide to venture towards the television and power it up, but, instantly, I'm greeted with nothing but static. As I start to check that all the wires are in properly, I hear a familiar sound coming from down the hall. The shower has been turned on.

Something really isn't right.

As I make my way down the small corridor, I hear…footsteps behind me. I twist around, yet there's nothing there. Then, I continue to make my way towards the bathroom. Not only is the shower on, but the light as well. The strange thing is that, due to the light creeping under the door, I'm able to make out the shadows of two feet. Someone is in there. Quickly, I place my back against the wall, slowly lift my hand up to the knob, and ready myself.

Then, at lightning speed, I throw open the door!…But nothing's there. Sure enough, the light and shower are on, yet there's no trace of anyone being in here. As I turn both the shower head and light bulb off, I notice something else…there's wet footprints across the tiled floor. Had they slipped by me? But…how?

My gaze follows the newly discovered trace, I learn that they had ventured into the very door opposite that of the bathroom's: My room.

At a painstaking pace, I make my way into the bedroom. But, upon entry, there's nothing here. Nothing. The blinds are open, allowing the moons pale ray to flood inside, lighting what would be dark.

Standing here, watching, waiting…nothing happens; the room remains perfectly still. Deciding it best to resume what I was doing, I go to leave but…something…something stops me from doing so. A sense that something is here…someone is here. Looking over my shoulder, I see now that there is a change in my room. The bed isn't empty. It's like a lump, unmoving but there, all the same.

A part of me feels that I should walk away; run away. Yet I can't shake the idea that I already know who it is, waiting for me to pull back the covers.

Placing one foot after the other, I walk to the end of the bed, clench my hands around the quilt, and pull. My eyes widen at the unnerving sight before me. Once again…nothing's there. However, they've left another trace. The mattress had shaped around someone, meaning that they had indeed been here.

"…Hei…"

Then…I feel it…a presence right behind me. Fingers crawl their way up my back, slowly, before reaching my shoulder and grasping tightly. It starts as a smooth sensation, but, before long, the nails are digging in, drawing blood.

"Hei…"

The voice…it was female. Though one could guess such a thing due to the slender fingers that were touching me, as well as the long nails piercing my skin. But it isn't just anyone's voice…I know this voice.

"Hei."

Eventually, unable to fight the temptation any longer, I turn to face whatever it is. For a second, I close my eyes in fear of what might appear before me. But instead, when I open my eyelids, no one is there. I'm greeted only by the blankness of a wall.

Am I losing my mind?

"Hei…!"

This time, it's a hiss! The tone was…frightening. An then I hear a giggle from above me, as well as a strange black liquid that falls on my shoulder. I look up, and there it is…glaring down at me…empty holes for eyes…a black substance dripping from the mouth and lids…

…Worst of all…I know this face.

Gulping down hard, I'm able to ask, "…Y…Y…Yin…?"

Her head tilts slightly, and her lips form a horrifying, crooked grin.

Then…she pounces. "HEI!"

"AHHH!" I scream, finally awaking from my nightmare!

Immediately, I see green walls, with a horizontal yellow stripe running through the middle of each. The floor has cream coloured tiles, and in front of me is a desk with a microphone device atop it. I'm sat on a wooden chair, wearing a pair of pale brown trousers, accompanied by a green shirt. On the shirt is an ID badge reading 'Li Henshik'. Realizing where I am, I sigh in relief. Home Bargain-Hut. My workplace.

Then, I notice a warmth on my left arm, and as I look to see what it is, a pair of worried eyes catch my gaze. It is a hand that's on my arm, holding tenderly. Looking into this person's eyes, their irises are a glorious green. Their skin is pale, and they wear the same clothes that I do. Without even reading their badge, I know who this is. Mikuru Hanabatake. My co-worker.

"Li-kun…" She mutters, quietly. "Are you alright?"

Thinking for a second, I recall that this has happened before. Many times.

Trying my best to reassure her, I smile warmly. "I'm alright, Hanabatake-san. Just a bad dream."

She sighs in relief and says, "Good. Had me worried there. You were sweating like a-" Pausing for a second, she realizes something. "Don't call me that! I told you a hundred times, already! Call me Mikuru!"

Unable to hold off a small chuckle, I only annoy her even more, resulting in her punch my arm playfully. Strangely, this woman is a year older than myself, yet still acts like a highschooler.

After Hanabatake scolding me for not visiting a doctor yet, due to my trouble with sleeping, I'm back to work. I stack the shelves mostly, but occasionally work on the till alongside Hanabatake, which led to our friendship during working hours. She was mischievous, and would cause other employees trouble just for kicks. But she never did such a thing to me. Instead, she was like an older sister; showing me the ropes, looking out for me…that sort of thing.

As I start to place Run-A-Go cereal boxes on the correct shelf, I can't help but voice my opinion on such a thing, in a hushed tone, to a passing child, who seemed like he was about to sneakily place the product in his mother's trolley. "Don't get that. They're gross!" He halts what he's doing instantly, and looks up at me. "Here, put this in."

Then, I grab a box of Cookie KrispOs and hand them to him, smiling as I do so. He thanks me, and then continues with his own secret shopping, while his mother is blissfully unaware that her son is doing it all for her.

Before long, I hear her scolding him, shouting things such as 'What are you trying to pull' and 'You think you can fool your own mother'. However, she must have forgiven him, as the box is never returned.

As I continue with my dull routine, I notice a shady figure walking by, hands in his pockets. He's wearing a ballcap and trench coat, all of which are wet due to the rain outside. Just as he passes, I hear something drop at my feet. I glance down, and see a cigarette packet.

Has he dropped this?

I bend down and pick it up, and go to shout after him but…he's gone. As I stand to my feet, I study the packet. It was certainly of good quality, with golden rims and joint writing on the front. But what catches my eye is what's written, scruffily, on the back. 'Bak Alley. Ten Minutes'.

Not only does he have poor handwriting, but he's also misspelt the word 'Back'.

My demeanour changes from calm to serious. Had this man meant this for me? Had he discovered who I am? Had he some motive for luring me out back?

Either way, it seems I'm about to step into the game once again…

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Here's the first part ofchapter one, guys and gals. I hope you liked it. Anyhow, this is only part one of the whole chapter, as there's a part two coming soon. Please keep an eye open for it!

Thanks for reading!