I am forgiven
Fandom: Death Note
Summary: He is my Master, and I am his puppet. I am under his control no matter how much I wish I wasn't.
Disclaimer: The marvelous creation that is Death Note does not belong to me.<.< Fuck it, if I can't own it, I'll damn well play with everyone and everything in it.XD
Warning: May be a little disturbing to some people, some twisted thoughts and such.
Why do I continue to do this? How have I fallen so far into this wicked temptation? Why? How?
Those thoughts continued to vibrate through my head, but it was useless. I already knew the answers, I just was hoping to find a different, a right-not wrong answer. But I wouldn't find one, and I don't know why I thought that this time would be any different.
I try to stop, every day and every second. Oh how I try.
But I can't. He won't let me.
Despite my sickness of the act, despite the fact that I absolutely hate both him and myself, he controls me.
He is my Master, and I am his puppet. I am under his control no matter how much I wish I wasn't.
There is nothing I can do, absolutely nothing.
It's those thoughts, this damn reality which causes me to empty my stomach at night in my bathroom.
It wouldn't be as bad if it was just a case of hallucination, or at least I think it wouldn't be.
But I'm almost ninety percent sure that delusions would be better then this, then the life I have to live.
But I cannot solve this problem by taking a medicine of some kind, or being locked up(At least I don't think so, but at this point I can't tell).
I wish it were that simple though.
I wish his touch was just a figment of my imagination, and maybe he is, but if he were, I would not be able to feel him so vividly.
Feel the whisper of his words, so seductive, mouthed against my skin. His lips making my skin feel as if it's been electrified.
His touch so hot, so warm, making the blood rush to my skin, as if to come out of my skin to connect with his hands.
His hands clasped with mine as I, as we, write. The rush of power flowing through our veins, but both in different ways.
Mine at the rush of the people, at having the ultimate power over the pathetic humans. To be able to kill them with just their name and face, to make them die how I see fit.
Him at the control, at having me at his call and beckon, his to do as he pleases.
He is the reason I'm doing this, the reason I'm in all this mess.
But I can't stop.
Everything is too addicting, and I'm a slave to it all.
It's a drug I can't escape, but at this point I don't know if I'll ever be able to.
If I'll ever want to.
And that is one of the many facts that scare me.
Will I have become so reliant on him, on this, that I'll never want to escape his chokehold?
When did I become his toy? A puppy eager to please it's Master?
But I already knew the answer to that one as well.
The day I picked up that Death Note was the day he was truly released.
He had always been there, nagging at the back of my mind like an itch never truly satisfied.
I was always aware of him, but I knew that others did not have the same feeling as I did so I paid no attention to it.
After all, it would do no good for me to reveal that there was another presence inside of me.
When I had brought the Death Note back with me, I didn't know what I was doing. It made no sense! It was just a joke.
Or it was supposed to be but, after two deaths exactly as stated it was too much not to be a coincidence.
That was when he awoke, hungry and thirsty for blood and death.
A creature of destruction, made of the flesh and blood of his victim, of me.
I hadn't wanted to use the Death Note again, but after he appeared, he lured me into it's trap, and I was a spider in the web.
Ink is so beautiful smeared across paper, but not like this.
Not in the names of people, not in the names of people who do not deserve these brutal deaths.
But he disagrees, says that they all deserve it.
All of them, including me.
My blood was the ink, the fluid used to punish criminals who filthied our world.
They did not deserve to live in a new world.
A new, improved, and pure world.
I wanted it, no I craved it.
But not like this, not by slowly killing my humanity in the process.
But he would not have anything else, he did not care.
Or... he did care, but he wanted my human side gone, leaving only a monster in my wake.
He held all the cards in his hands, his beautiful blood stained hands.
I bite my lip until I tasted blood, my own blood.
A taste that I would have spat back out a month ago, but time changes. A lot can change in just a short amount of time.
I now savor the taste, the taste of my own liquid that keeps me alive.
It thrills me like nothing else ever has before. To know that just some pressure and it will come welling to the surface.
Another thing he had done to me. Or maybe I was already that way, I just was blinded by what was percieved as the general mass' of right and wrong.
Those lines had blurred so long ago.
I know what I'm doing... no, what we're doing, is something highly frowned upon, something that most think is wrong.
But how can enjoying yourself be wrong when it feels so right?
I don't think there's an answer to that, and even if there is, I don't think I want to ever know it.
My body trembles as I gaze at all the names, all the people dead.
Eliminated by my hand, my hand manipulated by his.
Or maybe that was just another excuse of mine.
When really, the monster might be just me the whole time.
That thought shouldn't excite me as much as it does.
What have I become? I ask myself every day on my walk home.
Kira(The name both he and the world had given him) trails by my side, smirking at my dilemma.
I can never tell if he is just an mere illusion or not. Only I can see him, nobody else even spares him a glance.
The thought repeats in my mind: He's not real. You're just imagining him.
But he's so real. I can actually touch him, and he can touch me as well. How can a mere image of my imagination do that?
I don't know what to do, but he does. He always does.
But I can never let him know of my doubts, of my struggles.
He will mock me. That's no way for a God to behave. Pull yourself together Light, or I will reshatter you myself and shape you to my image.
He would break me. You're pathetic. Can you not do these simple tasks? A simpleton could to a better job then you are.
Then he would remold me. That's it. Just a few more and you'll be done for the day, I promise.
And that was one of the worst. Kira always keeps his promises, but it's the journey to the end that kills a little of himself every time.
Just a few more names. A few more names carelessly written down, not caring one bit on whether their charges were false or not. Whether they truly were innocent or guilty.
Kira did not care. He just wanted to see the resulting chaos of all the death around them.
Kira is a true demon, a demon that is slowly corrupting me.
And I don't even try my best to get away.
People often debate whether a demon is hideous enough to coerce people into commiting sins, or stunning enough to render one breathless and seduce them.
Both of them are true.
Kira is so handsome, a true vision to behold. Velvet crimson hair covered the eyes hiding behind their frame, but just barely. A darker red would be peeking through his bangs, making someone wonder if they were dreaming or in reality.
I know it's caused me more then enough headaches trying to destinguish the two. I stopped trying a while back.
A body so similar to mine, but with so many scars.
Scars adorned Kira's body; all made by the stab of a pen, or the wicked carve of a knife or throwing star.
But that would be a bit hypocritical of me to say that they were ugly, seeing as the same scars decorated my skin as well.
My body is no longer my own. Now it is just a twisted vision of his definition of perfection.
I'd disagree. I'd say that I'm ugly because of him... but the truth is I love them all.
I love the scars I have, how could I not?
The demon made me love them. Love them until I started making my own.
He is so proud of me in those moments. It makes chills go right down to my bones, but I cannot deny I live for his praise and approval. When I said I am his puppet, I am not kidding one bit.
And just as Kira is beautiful, he is also the most horrific being I've ever known.
He lures you in, taunts you in his web. And just as you are about to give up... he shapes you into a lovely figurine, only to start the process all over again.
Human beings, including myself, cannot help but be pulled into his trap. How can a Godly being like him be anything but pure?
But oh how he proves us wrong in the end.
The days always end the same way.
I'd wake up and get ready, then go to school. I would give away none of my intellect, not unless someone called me up to read something.
Then I would walk back home with Kira floating beside me, an exact copy of me that only I could see.
I'd exchange useless formal greetings with my family and I'd then head up the stairs and into my room for some privacy.
I always let out a little huff of breath in dry amusement at that. As if I'd ever get privacy. Not in this lifetime, not while he is here.
Then he would "graciously" allow me time to freshen up in the bathroom, but after that I was his.
And then I spent hours upon hours writing names, the names he gives me in that cursed notebook, by then my hand will be beyond cramped up, but he will not let me stop until all the names have been written.
Then I will collapse on the nearest available surface and sleep until seven am. Then the cycle woud repeat.
But no matter how much I hoped(For there was nothing else I could do), nothing changed.
At least, not until he came.
He unknowingly changed so much for me. He made Kira rage like I have never seen before, and they were both locked in a challenge that I could only observe and be a pawn to.
Because that is all I was.
A pawn between two of the greatest minds of all time.
I watched as L cut off his words, making some vague choked noises behind the monitor.
My heart beat irregulary, and I could not speak.
I watched, as if in slow motion.
He dropped his spoon, and slowly fell out of his chair, his hair swaying to the side in an invisible breeze.
Then he was dropping, falling out of his chair.
I caught him before he could collide with the hard floor, and I knew this would pain me as much as it would him.
L was already on his way to the realm of the dead. What lay beyond there I would never know, but I know I do not want him to go there.
But I couldn't do a thing but watch as Kira-my Master- made me observe his suddenly delicate frame being wracked with slight chills, and his eyes.
His beautiful gray eyes looking at us with betrayal. I started weeping, but no one but Kira and myself could hear me.
Could L? I gazed deeper into his eyes, willing myself to show L I did not mean it! It's not me! See me!, not him!
I saw when understanding-a rare show of emotion from him- filled his eyes and he nodded slightly with a small smile quirked on his lips, mouthing my name.
When his eyes closed to never grace this rotten world with his soul...
I wept while Kira took control.
I no longer cared. My body was not longer my body, it is just his vessel now.
I do not care who dies anymore.
L is dead.
He was the only one who I cared for. Who I loved.
But now he's gone, and he'll never know how much I regret never saying I love you to him face to face.
Time flew by, but I only came aware and out of my anguish when something astonishing or surprising happened.
It only happened a few times, but it never held my attention, and then I was back to mourning.
I tried talking to L out loud and in my mind.
He never answered my pleas. Not like I deserved them.
I-we- killed him after all.
I blinked and got up from my dark abyss, willing myself to figure out where I-we- were.
Then I became aware of a pain unlike any other I had ever felt.
When I looked, I saw the reason why.
Multiple bleeding holes graced our body, and from what I could feel still inside us; bullet wounds.
I saw steel stairs coming up in our peripheral vision, and I could feel Kira willing our body to move faster, but it couldn't.
Was this our end? Was our death upon us?
Would we both end up in Mu like the Death Note, like the shinigamis, said?
Of course we would. We both have killed, we deserve it and more.
Our body fell on the stairs, still desperately trying to climb upwards.
Then a sharp firey pain laced through our chest.
A heart attack. Guess Ryuk really did keep his promises after all.
My eyes started growing tired and droopy, and I fell to the black floor whilst Kira did the same in the warehouse.
I was not aware my eyes had closed until I opened them again.
When I looked in front of me, I froze.
L was here right in front of me, hunched over with a small smile on his face.
"You and Kira have commited atrocious, yes. But you have my forgiveness Light-kun."
Oh God. After not hearing L's voice for years, to suddenly hear it in crystal clarity...
Tears started escaping my eye's sockets, cascading down my cheeks rapidly.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! Please forgive me. Please, please, please..." I was not aware of the words tumbling out of my mouth, but then L smiled.
I couldn't help but stare. It was literally the most gorgeous sight I've ever seen, and I am not one to use that word lightly.
"Like I said Light-kun, all is forgiven." I couldn't help but smile as well.
My chest felt light, all of myself did actually. I had not felt like this since... never, actually. I don't know what to make of the feeling, whether it is good or bad.
But I quickly forgot about my thoughts and emotions as L held out his spidery hand.
"Are you ready to go, Light?"
Was I? Wherever I was, it already made me feel sweet relief from being away from Kira.
But I no longer cared about the questions of where Kira is, I let it all go a very long time ago.
I beamed widely and grabbed his hand and let him lead me into the warm golden light.
I am forgiven by the most important person in my world.
All was, and will forever be, good. For both of us.