Scourge's Note: Because OC-insert fics are awful.


And oh! graves of the deserted!
These shall speak, each as their voices shall be loosed.
And the day is dawning.

The colors were wrong, people looked too definite; everyone's voice fit their personalities far too well. It was as if she were viewing her own world through a stained glass window, a lens of crimson over the harsh reality it tried to distort. And yet it was far more real than the world she had slipped through—it was engaging, it was demanding, she couldn't turn away from the world he was creating.

There were moments when she could hear the Latin chanting, could hear the screeching of the violins. Kyrie Eleison, Domine Kira. It was his world to toy with, the tapestry let out beneath his finger tips. He was the mortal god with the golden eyes—Kira the executioner. It was horrifying to be so captivated by his laughter, to be so enthralled by his eyes.

He didn't look human, not like the humans she remembered. But those memories had begun to fade; her vision had adjusted to the cartooned world she now inhabited, her mind learned to comprehend its foreign words, learned to comprehend the forgotten past, to better understand the future she had foreseen.

The stairs, the heart... She had read his pathway so many times—the worn and beaten trail, covered in blood and death—but she had never truly seen his footprints. For how could she when she had seen the world in black and white?

It was a parallel dimension, a world running beside hers, a contradicting truth in every sense of the word. And he was at the center of it. Light Yagami's pen dictated the fates, his voice spoke through the people. He was not Icarus, but neither was he Daedelus; he was the sunlight they both strived for.

And it was when he smiled, leaning back in his chair to stare at her, contemplating how to dispose of her—it was only then that she knew exactly what Misa had seen in him. And it was terrifying.