Chapter 8: Daniel Waters

January 31st Tuesday 2023

Opening his eyes to a familiar void, Daniel found himself strapped tightly to his rusting steel chair. It was though invisible hands were holding down his arms and legs with little effort. No matter how much he struggled, neither he nor the chair budged an inch.

I'm here again he thought as his mouth tightened in fear.

This was a dream, he knew it to be true. Each night never failed to drift him off to this void, this seat and the eternal darkness that lay before him.

And once again, as his eyes searched the pitch and empty. He saw the shimmer of pure white sparkling on the floor a few feet away, while a thin beam of light parted through the black.

From this light that grew with each passing second, a podium of wood and rot formed and rose out of the white.

Right on cue, emerging from the darkness, the robed man appeared and took his stage upon the podium.

Unable to move and his mouth trembled in fear, Daniel could only watch and stare as the hooded figure cloaked in black grasped the sides of the stand.

The wood creaked and splintered as yellowing finger bones squeezed into the rot and decay.

But as the robed man leaned forward as though to get a better look, Daniel mustered enough courage to yell out a few words.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?"

Peering from the eternal darkness of his hood, the figure said nothing as it stood and judged. Tapping the tips of his bones as it waited.

From the corner of his eye, Daniel could feel a bit of dampness. A wet feeling as a stream of liquid rolled down his cheek and dripped to his lap.

Crimson and thick, blood seeped from his eyes as tears of red bled from his sorrow.

"I'm sorry" he said as his throat parched and ached.

It was all he ever wanted to say to Father Curtis, the man standing before him, judging him with his dead and forgotten eyes.

Daniel was certain it was the good Father. He could feel it inside him, the presence of a man who only wanted to be loved and adored by his flock. Now dead and decaying.

Bowing down his head in shame, Daniel could no longer look at the man he murdered out of curiosity.

"Your death was a mistake… you didn't deserve to die…"

Rough and creaking, a chilling voice startled Daniel as his gaze drew to the ire of the Father.

"Why not?"

Huh!?

"Father Curtis? I don't understand? You've never spoken to me before. Why now?" Daniel replied, pulling his chest forward as he leaned towards the Father.

"Daniel Waters" the Father called out from his podium. A bone chilling voice echoed from the hall of black as the ground rippled from his booming throat.

"Child of Kira. You are lost in the ways of our Lord. Your mind is cluttered and amiss. You see the injustice in this world and yet you do nothing to aid your fellow man. What say you?"

The ground quaked and splashed as though it was made of liquid ooze. The Father proved to be a mighty and large being as his foreboding figure loomed over Daniel like a lord or Judge. Every word that left his grace's mouth shook the very foundation of this world and it terrified Daniel to his core.

"I- I'm not lost Father!" Daniel meekly replied.

"I-I've tried to help her. Many times, I have intervened on her behalf. It's just that the police are blind to the torment and abuse she suffers everyday… I've done all I can for her…"

"LIAR!" the Father bellowed.

Shaking in his chair, Daniel held shut his eyes tightly as the roaring voice of the Father rushed through him.

Shifting his hand of bones over the top of the podium, the Father slammed the surface with a thunderous thump.

Lifting from the wood and splinters, a black book rose from the rot. It was the Book of Kira. Hovering before the mighty judge in all its handmade glory. Departing without notice, it moved gracefully towards Daniel's lap as though some invisible force was handing it to him.

Planting itself on top of his stone-cold legs, the book flipped open and revealed blank and empty pages.

"No!" Daniel uttered in weak defiance.

"I will not write his name in the book. I cannot end a life so easily… to show them the eternal darkness… to end it all in a sudden notice… Death should not be easy!"

The Father creaked under his cloak, as though his bones rattled to Daniels pitiful sorrow. Slowly raising his arms up outstretched and high, the Father turned his gaze to the light that beamed from the unknown.

"Each name is sacred. Bestow upon us as a promise to the almighty, that if we should ever stray from the righteous path. Our brothers and sisters shall be the ones to guide us to Kira's embrace. Treasure them closely, as every name written is a name gifted to our lord, so that he may judge the sins of man."

Eerie sounds of scratching diverted Daniel's attention to the book as a name formed from graphite.

Born from no pen nor pencil, the name Charles Curtis screamed like a beast into Daniel's eyes.

Shooting his eye line towards the might of Father, Daniel's jaw quivered as he spoke.

"I- I've said I'm sorry… I… I should never have written your name! You were never meant to die!"

Unflinching and undisturbed by Daniel's testimony, the Father spoke in a more softer tone while each word still carried weight.

"Everybody dies eventually my child. That is the way of all things pure and right in the world. But you judged me without cause. No sin attached to my name as you wrote it freely into your book"

The scratches continued as another name formed in the book. Henry Price revealed itself. But unlike before, the words held no weight or grievance to Daniel as they appeared.

Tapping his fingers against the podium, the Father asked in his deep creaking voice.

"And this man? His sins may not have been judged by your holy book. But his name remains all the same. I've seen your soul, child of Waters. Hesitation stayed your hand for a moment like the stillness of your name. Clear and pristine as a lake. Fear for any action that could ripple and disrupt your existence. And yet, in the moment of the pen marking the sacred book, you felt neither grief nor guilt… as you wrote his name… Why?"

Eyes watered with red, Daniel's gaze was purely fixated on the name sat before him. Unblinking, he stared and weighed the words of the Father heavily.

Did I not feel anything?

In that moment, a jolt surged through his brain as the ground flickered in specks of white. A sudden realisation flowed through, clear as the day as images of Henry Price appeared on the floor like a tv screen.

Peering towards the floor, Daniel watched as the images unravelled and revealed the red bus from the news report. Standing menacingly with a weapon in his grasp, Daniel remembered the face of the innocent little girl that stared down the barrel of Henry Price's gun.

"She wasn't afraid…" he muttered as a loud bang rang through the air.

Light smoke drifted from the gun and yet the child barely reacted. Her face stern with a slight tremble.

"That was when I wrote his name… I had closed my eyes to the sounds of the gun at that time. I pictured his face in my mind as I wrote his name, fearing that he had killed that little girl… I would have killed him if not for the other holder"

Stepping off the bus, the man drew his gun to his temple once more and passed with violent spread. The images faded with crimson into black.

Drumming his bones on the podium, the Father slowly stopped before leaving. Stepping down from up high, his imposing tall figure loomed over Daniel like a ten-foot-tall monster.

And yet his words were soothing and kinder to listen. The ground didn't ripple, the world did not tremble.

The Father knelt down on one knee and spoke in kindness.

"Our teachings tell us that we must judge those who have sinned. We write their names to our lord so that he may judge each and every one of them, fairly. Not every name given to our lord will be heeded. Those who have minor sins may live on to reflect on their actions"

Waving his long-sleeved arm, the images below changed and formed to the face of Henry Price.

"But to this man. To wave a weapon in the face of a child. Reflection was passed his time. Fear not for his soul my child, our lord above will decide whether it is worthy to be in his embrace"

Reaching out with an outstretched pointy and bony finger. The Father pressed it tightly to Daniel's uncomfortable chest.

And as though he was pulling out his soul, Daniel could feel something tight inside as a familiar black book pierced out from his ribs.

Grasping with a finger and a thumb, the Father pulled out the Death Note from inside Daniel as he wretched back in pain. Dangling within a few inches from his face, the title of the book glowed in an eery yellow.

"Death Note. A true book of Kira indeed"

Light blue flames erupted from Daniels legs as the Book of Kira burned to a cinder. Ash and pieces of charred black parted between his legs and left not a mark of damage to be seen.

"A true gift from our lord. Not like the imitations born from its image…"

Resting the Death Note atop of the remains of the imposter, the notebook drummed its beat into Daniel's head.

The ground shook with every beat, like a droplet hitting a pool of water.

"Daniel, my child. You have been given an opportunity to change"

The Father drew his hooded figure closer. From the dark recesses of the cloak, Daniel could start to make out shapes from within.

Two dark receded eye sockets stared back from a dead rotting face. His jaw bare to the world as a piece of flesh dangled from the chin.

"Take the book into your hands. From there, the choice is yours"

From the corner of his eye, a large collum of blue and white flames burst to the side of the podium behind the Father.

Parting away from Daniel, the Father moved to the opposite side of the podium and the flame.

Raising his dead hands to his chest, the Father tilted his head in a matter like a prayer.

"The flames of purgatory belong to the worst of sinners my child. Throw the book into its cleansing flames and you shall be rid of its burden forever. But know this Daniel Waters, you can burn your Death Note at any time, but "he" will come to collect payment"

The flames licked into the air temptingly as Daniel's fingers twitch in apprehension. His arms and legs, though still feeling sluggish no longer felt tied down to the chair.

Awkwardly standing as his balance was like jelly. Daniel stepped forward cautiously towards the blue with book in hand.

"If… if I destroy the Death Note…"

He paused, his mouth clamped shut tight. Red as the dawning sun, Kayla's beautiful hair entered his thoughts. Like falling Autum leaves, her hair fell in strands before him, burning brightly into the blue.

"Nothing will change… will it?" he asked as he turned to the praying Father.

"She will still suffer in his hands"

Through his hooded darkness, the Father continued to face the floor as he replied in softer tones. Almost angelic and without the creakiness of the throat.

"Change happens regardless of what we decide. Sometimes small and insignificant. Other times they clash like the plates of the earth itself. But, through your second choice. You can shake the very foundation of this world… if you desire it"

The light above the podium grew, encircling it in its warming glow.

"You have the power Daniel, Child of Waters and son of Kira. How you use it is up to you"

As though the light beckoned him like a moth to the flame, Daniel took one step, then another as it called to him.

Everyone has two sides…

The drumming beat of the Death Note slowed with each step as Daniel made his way behind the podium.

I am not Kira…

Placing the black book onto the smashed and decaying wood, the book hummed as it lay there.

Who am I?...

"I will not end another's life…" he told the Father, the words felt empty for some reason as they parted from his mouth. It was as though doubt started to creep into his mind like a worm into dirt.

Lifting his sights from the robed man, Daniel glimpsed at the chair he was previously imprisoned on.

Instead of empty space that should have been. A large round figure made of shifting shadows sat in its place.

The shape seemed familiar despite the lack of features and no face.

Who are you?

Fluttering as though a gust of wind propelled them, the pages of the Death Note flew open and suddenly stopped on clean pure whiteness.

The figure before him started to form as a wooden pencil born from the podium appeared next to the book.

"Luke…" Daniel muttered to the odd being before him, clutching the pencil tightly into his fingers. His hand throbbed as his heart pulsed nervously.

Through creaking and rattled sounds, the podium shook momentarily as the wood and decay eroded away. Splinters and ash burned from the stand as clear marble stone, grey as a tombstone took its place.

Standing before the new stone structure, to Daniel's surprise it no longer looked like the podium from before.

It was slightly longer and it offered a high seat made of soft black cushion. Beside it sat a brand-new box, smaller in stature and not as elegant of refined. Its seat offered little to no comfort as the wood it was made from was seemingly rotten and mouldy green.

As Daniel further examined the podium, rubbing his fingers across the smooth surface, he noticed to his surprize that his sleeve had turned black and baggy.

"What the?" he exclaimed as the clothes he was now wearing appeared to be the Church of Kira's robes.

Full black with tinges of grey, the robe fitted perfectly. Brand new and clean. Daniel felt compelled to be seated in the podium with his fresh attire.

Sitting high from the ground with pencil in hand and the Death Note sat squarely before him. Daniel soon came to realise the structure he was sitting in.

"A judge's podium!"

His hand trembled as the pencil rattled against the stone.

The light above soon began to dim and depart. Shortly revealing itself once more a few feet away, emblazing the large man sitting before him in glorious light.

Daniel was shrouded in darkness, bleak and shadows covered his face from all eyes.

The humming sounds of the Death Note drew deadly silent as familiar words parted from Daniels lips.

"Everyone has two sides…"

Clenching tightly to the pencil in hand and forming a fist in the other, sweat formed on his brow as Daniel struggled to keep composure.

Planting a hand to his face, the clamminess of his palm slapping his brow, Daniel's mind raced to decide who he was.

"Who am I? Who am I?" he muttered repeatedly, until he heard a giggle.

A light laughter entered the world of darkness as a girl's glee could be heard.

"Kayla" he uttered under his calming breath.

Gently removing his hand and placing it next to the Death Note, Daniel breathed in deeply as the fog of his mind parted and for the first time in his life.

He felt like he was someone new.

"Luke Jones" he began sternly like a man of authority.

"I _, shall judge you for your crimes!"


Jolting awake, Daniel awoke to the bright ray of sun peeking through his curtains. Chest hurting as his pulse raced and his breathing was erratic. Swiping the back of his hand against his brow, a layer of salt and water brushed off and rolled against his skin in cold beads.

"Shit!" he muttered as he caught his breath.

"Are you okay Daniel? you were moaning something in your sleep"

Stepping out from the dark corner of his room, Ryuk appeared in all of his black and creepy form.

It was up until that moment that Daniel had forgotten his dream, the darkness and the name hidden within. Seeing Ryuk stand tall and menacing before him, with his teethy grin and bulging eyes reminded him of the vivid images and unnerving sensations of the Father.

Neither of the two looked anything alike but both emitted a sense of authority that compelled Daniel to listen. It was like listening to a strict parent or an officer of the law.

But the name, the name he called out at the end of the dream. The moment that he stood tall and mighty as he lorded over the abuser Luke Jones.

There was power there. A sensation that riled his blood as a rush or high. And yet he couldn't recall who he was at that moment. The name he had chosen felt lost to the recesses of his mind. Hidden back into the far-off corner like a phantom in the corner of one's eye. It was there, but so far out of reach.

Pushing himself up the bed and against the back rest, Daniel placed a hand to his chest and felt his heart slowly calm.

"I'm fine Ryuk… just- it was just a dream"

"Seemed more than a dream Daniel. Your face looks tired and afraid. Must have been a scary nightmare. I like those, they are fun and exciting to have" replied Ryuk as he thought back on fond dreams.

"It was nothing Ryuk, just forget about it okay. I need to get ready to take Eva to school"

Shoving away the blankets from his warm body, a dark object flung in the air as the sheets parted. Thumping lightly onto the soft fibred carpet, the Death Note lay in the centre of the floor with a strand of light peeking from the curtain.

Did I leave that on my bed? Could have sworn I left it in the drawer?

Turning his legs over the side, Daniel moved apprehensively towards the cursed book as its cover glistened in the sunlight.

Badump, Badump. His heartbeat went as Daniel kneeled to the floor and brushed the book with his fingertips.

"Ryuk" he started with a mutter. The light from the sun was warm on the book. He couldn't help but think of the flames of Purgatory and the choices to be made.

"When I die… will I go to hell for using the Death Note?"

The question lingered on his tongue like a foul taste. Daniel wasn't an overly religious man nor was he Christian. He often believed that nothingness awaited them after death. No afterlife, no fluffy clouds or stringed golden harps, nor any fiery pitchforks with little abominations attached.

No, Death for Daniel as he believed would have been it.

Until he met Ryuk. An actual Grim Reaper.

Shifting in his usual odd lanky walk, Ryuk seemed to possess a wider smile as the question brought him pleasure.

Looming tall, his shadow blocked out all light from the gap in the curtain as the Shinigami spoke mockingly, his yellowed eyes glowed in the darkness, like that of a cat.

"Hell? Is that what's been holding you back all this time. Are you worried that if you use the Notebook that your Soul will be cast into the fires of eternity. No, Daniel you are not going to hell"

A light curve of a smile crept on Daniel's face as his chest felt lighter. The guilt of murder had weighed him down deeply, like a stack of bricks was permanently pressed against his body. Ryuk's words of atonement had removed quite a load that Daniel had to bear.

"Thank you, Ryuk!" he began earnestly.

"You have no idea how much that-"

"You misunderstand me, Daniel" Ryuk interrupted, his hand raised chest high as his finger pointed to the sky.

"There's one thing you should know about using the Death Note. Now, I don't know if there is a heaven or a hell. To me it's just some silly made up dream you humans have concocted to make your lives easier to manage. You can't have too many people give up halfway through life, you know. However, what I do know is this. Humans who have used the Death Note can go neither to Heaven or Hell. Once your lives end, all that awaits you is… Nothing"

"…nothing?"

Like dark clouds suffocating the light from the sky, all happiness and warmth from Daniel's smile parted like a rainy day.

"Fraid so kid. So don't worry about your petty morales. It won't help you, or your little girly friend"

Daniel arrived into the kitchen later than normal. Mom had clearly expected him sooner as his plate of eggs and bacon was already dished out and turning cold.

"Daniel!" she started with a disappointed tone.

"Did you forget to set your alarm or something? You could at least call down and inform me that you are going to be late. Your breakfast was ready ten minutes ago!"

Legs weakly trudging along the floor. His feet brushed the surface of the tiles as every step was short and without effort.

Ryuk followed closely by, uninterested and bored as he waited for the morning breakfast routine to end.

There was a lack of care and concern in Daniel's eyes as he took his seat at the table.

What's the point? He thought as he blankly stared at the greasy meal before him.

On a normal day, long before the notebook. Daniel would have scoffed down the plate and asked for seconds in a matter of minutes. Now, the meal looked unappealing and his hunger and love for mom's cooking seemed wasted.

Rustling his daily newspaper. Dad coughed deeply as his nightly snoring brought slaps of phlegm into the back of his throat.

With another hard cough, his old man tilted the paper lightly so as his eyes could peer from over top.

"Aren't you going to apologise to your mother Daniel. My sweety puts in a lot of effort to feed our lazy asses in the morning. Without her, we would suffer my bland cooking. Burnt eggs and cremated toast… hmm, tastes better but it takes a lot of effort fail that hard"

"You little shit!" Mom immediately replied with a whack from her kitchen towel. The rough and damp cloth slapped Dad across his arm with a satisfying smack.

Little sweet Eva giggled in her chair immaturely.

"Shit! Shit!" she repeated excitedly, her spoon ringing against the ceramic bowl as she bounced. Milk and sugared Weetabix flew onto the floor and table as she laughed.

Dad was already aware of Daniel's apparent mood. That much was for certain.

The old man was fond of using crude or random bits of humour to clear the air of foulness. It works wonders on Eva. Her tantrums never lasted five minutes as soon as dad got involved. A few terrible jokes here, one liners there and attacks of tickles always wins a laugh or smile from her.

Not with Daniel though.

"Sorry mom" he muttered half-heartedly.

Picking up the fork that lay undisturbed by the cold meal, Daniel began to pick at the stringy strips of meat.

Golden yolks surrounded by white broke open with a light prod of the fork. Streams of goodness flowed into the puddle of grease and fat.

Uneaten, Daniel played with his food until his dad cleared his throat once more.

Folding his paper neatly as to not rip the fragile material, he placed it next to his coasted cup of tea and joined his hands together in a clasp that rested intriguingly before him.

"What's wrong son? I know you can be distant to us. You don't like to converse with us. Not like you use to when you were just a boy. You're a grown man, I see that. And you have your rights to be yourself. But… you can still speak to your dear old dad, right?"

Twirling the fork with a finger and thumb, Daniel observed the grease meld with the egg as the liquids swirled. Barely shifting his head, Daniel glanced to the stern trying to be fatherly dad that sat at the end of the table.

Partially opening his mouth, words started to form as he gently inhaled under confused and anxious stress.

Closing his eyes tightly, all Daniel could see was the darkness behind his lids. But from that bleak abyss he could still hear Ryuk mutter "nothing" like a distant echo.

Shutting and clamping his teeth tightly. Daniel grinded his whites as his fingers squeezed his fork tightly into his hand.

Where do I begin dad? He wanted to say.

I killed Father Curtis with a book used by your glorious God Kira. Murdered him out of curiosity, then watched as you any everybody else cheered over his corpse.

I took that book home and met its owner. A Grim Reaper who enjoys apples and death.

As a family, we wrote a criminal's name in our books. Mine should have killed him… I might actually have wanted him dead.

But I cannot seem to kill the man who torments me the most. He's over there now! At home beating his daughter, my Kayla until she's no more.

And life!... turns out when I die, there's nothing to reward me for my stubborn virtues that I so desperately hold dear. All because of this cursed book that I still cling to even now!

It's on my lap. The black Book of God… sitting there begging to be used… I don't know why I brought it down… I don't know why I don't burn or tear out its pages…

What I want to say Dad… what I truly want us to do…

"Dad… can we…(sigh) can we write a name in our books? Please…"

Turning a weary and defeated eye towards his old man, Daniel noticed a surprised look on his face. As clear as day was his expression that it seemingly and quickly turned in a heartbeat.

Shifting an odd frown around, a beaming smile of yellow and white widened as Dad grinned from ear to ear.

"Did you hear that sweety!? He wants to do it! He's finally turning around!"

Unclasping his hands eagerly, the man patted the edge of his table in pure excitement as he asked his wife to rush and grab their Books of Kira.

In no time at all, Mom returned with three black books. She too joined at the table, sitting opposite of Eva who rushed to scoff her milk and wheat into her tiny gob.

Mom, Dad, Eva… they each opened their books and flipped the pages until they were ready. Ready for Daniel to reveal his book from under the table.

With Death Note in hand, the book shoved away the cold and spoiled breakfast as it found its place amongst the others.

Turning to the first page with Henry Price written in blue, Daniel blinked slowly as his breathing shallowed with each breath.

"So, Daniel?" dad began as he rolled a blue pen.

"Which criminal plagues your mind? Who deserves Kira's judgment?"

Biting his lip until it drew the taste of iron onto his tongue, Daniel closed his eyes and pictured the round face that tormented him.

"Luke Jones" he replied quietly.

I don't want to kill…

"I never wrote his name… not in my true book… I wanted to make sure his name was heard by my true voice… but I couldn't do it alone. I wanted… I felt like I needed your support"

We all have two sides

Cold and damp, tears crossed his cheek as his eyes burned in hate.

I'm not Daniel…

"I- I need to finish this… to understand where I stand…"

Who am I?

Mom began to tear up as well but she was struggling to hold it back. Eva on the other hand had already rushed over to give her big brother a loving a tight hug.

Dad sat silently. His head bobbed lightly in approval.

"Well…" he said as he cleared his throat.

"Shall we begin?"

Eva gave one more squeeze before she let go and returned to her chair.

"Love you brother" she squeaked.

Taking the pen into his fingers, Daniel could feel Ryuk's presence as the Shinigami peered over his shoulder. His long grey face peeped into the corner of his eyes.

"Are you really going to do it Daniel? This is not a joke. You're not trying to pull my leg or anything are you?"

Thumb over the top, the pen clicked with little pressure.

Pointing down towards the paper, the tip gently touched but didn't move as scratches from the other books could be heard.

Hesitation held his hand as Daniel struggled to write the first letter.

Death is the end.

The letter "L" appeared in inky blue.

He dies, she lives.

Followed by "u, k and e"

She suffers and he goes on to the next life.

The man's face stained his mind as the letters "J, o, n, e and s" formed in anger.

Death should not be so simple.

Daniel's eyes widened as those last thoughts stayed and lingered.

Looking around the table, smiling acknowledging faces greeted him. A loving and adoring family waited for him to pass judgment. To offer a name to their God.

Just like Father Curtis. His followers loved and worshipped him like a part of a bigger family.

Death should not be so simple.

Before the forty seconds could pass, Daniel wrote down more words as Ryuk started to chuckle.

His husky voice grew louder as a cackle of roaring laughter filled up the room.

But all Daniel could hear was the beating of the Notebook drawing to silence as the beats of his heart pulsed.

Badump, Badump.


Authors Corner;

There is one aspect of writing that I struggle with the most. And that is dialogue.

To clarify. I can write one-sided conversations just fine, like monologues. But when it comes to back and forth… God damn it hurts my brain.

It might stem from the fact I don't talk a lot in conversations myself. I'm one of those that stands there and listens to the other person, and maybe add a little to continue the subject.

Anyway, from the start of Daniel's arc, I wanted to make his change towards the Death Note believable. He's somewhat losing it in his mind from the guilt of murdering Father Curtis and he's having to deal with the morality of Luke Jones.

Attempting to do the right thing first before going to the extreme hopefully makes his turn more enjoyable.

He's not anything like Light Yagami. He's not smart, a bit of a looser and he's living with his parents. Some people can relate to that… I certainly do.

So, what happens when he snaps? What does a guy who lacks the attention of popularity or a sense of power do?

I'm hopefully going to answer that in the near future.