Tattered feathers fall to the filthy ground,

Why dost thine eyes grow dim?

Keep your weary words of sin,

For they are not what we have found.



Prologue

Mello opened his eyes and realized immediately that there was something hot and sticky across his face. His hand jerked to his old scar-the one from the explosion-but no, not that. His head. Slowly, carefully, he leaned up, dizzy and a little disoriented.

"Near?" he called groggily. No answer. "Near?" he called a little louder. "Dammit, where are you?" He looked around the room.

It was sort of neat and sort of orderly for Near's sake, but there was a certain disorder to it. That was for the visiting new SPK members. Mello… still didn't like them. So the disorder was his little display.

He slowly picked himself up. Something… was wrong. It was that eerie silence that came only after tragedy or calamity struck a place. The door back into the main room was ajar.

Something red was smeared on it.

Mello made his way over, holding his throbbing, aching head. It wasn't blood… it smelled… sweet.

Sweet like-

No.

The chances were so close to zero.

But it was strawberry jam all the same.

"Near, answer me! Where the fuck are you?" Mello called his voice tense. No, it wasn't him. He was locked in an asylum. The only reason he wasn't dead was because he had been found innocent for reason of insanity. Mello entered the main room.

Close to his feet a robot lay on the ground. Broken.

Cards were everywhere.

Countless.

A chair lay on the ground, toppled over.

The window was broken, glass sparkling with false cheer.

A few droplets of blood on the cards, the table, smeared on the window.

Mixed with the cards on the table, what few were left there, was his photograph, taken so many years ago. Well, it seemed to be long ago because of all that had happened since then. The explosion, finding Matt again, giving in to the fact that he and Near would work better as a team in their own way, the overturn of Kira, the world returning to normal.

He turned the photograph over, and there were new words.

Dear Mello,

Please forgive me for never trying to underst-

A streak at the end of understand.

In the center of the room, perfectly the center, was a jar of strawberry jam.

Beyond Birthday. BB.

He left his signature.

BB had Near.

How the fuck had—Mello pulled out his cell phone with shaking hands, and speed dialed two.

"Mello?" came a tired answer after a few rings.

"Bb kidnapped Near." There was a clatter of sound and a few curses, and Matt picked his phone up again.

"When? How?" he spluttered.

"I-I don't know. I got knocked out and—there are things that don't—" Mello stopped, and froze.

There was something nailed to the wall.

A voodoo doll—a Wara Ningyo.

Of Mello.

He slowly approached it- it was definitely an eerie representation.

"Mello! Mello—fucking answer me you bastard!" Matt was shouting to try and get his attention again.

"BB—he…"

"What is it?"

"We have to bring him down. For good."

"We will."

"I'm gonna fucking shoot him on sight."

"Think-"

"Fuck no, Matt, get your ass here. Now. Be here in twenty minutes."

"Gotcha." With that, Matt hung up.

Mello sank to the floor, staring at the doll nailed to the wall through the head.

BB was making his return.


A/N: Bwahahahahahaha!!! w So, this is the project that I've started working on after finishing And That Was. I think... I'm having too much fun with it. Tee hee! Hope you enjoy this one, and thanks to everyone who is reading.

You guys rock.