It has been seven years since Nate River has walked down this hallway. First when he was twelve, and in those seven years since, he should only have needed to worry about acne and girlfriends. But no, he is Near, he is the third L, he is the detective who defeated Kira.
Near, at the age of twelve, had known no loss, even though he was an orphan. But that changed when Angel died. Angel's death had shook Wammy's house to the core, and left his lover and three best friends lost and confused. Yes, Angel's death confused even Near, and left him to shrink into himself. Angel was the closest thing Near had ever had to a brother.
Two weeks after walking the hallway for the first time, Near was forced to walk there again, this time without Beyond by his side. Just Matt and Mello that time. And why? Because that time, he walked the hallway for Beyond.
This hallway was a hallway of death.
On the wall, words of remembrance had been written for each child, with a drawing and a photograph for each. Their bodies may be buried in whichever country they died in, but Roger had put a small piece of them in this hallway.
Near walks the hallway, alone this time.
At the end of the hallway, five boys have been put separately; Wammy's best.
First of all comes L himself, with a photograph of him with Light Yagami, the brunette killer handcuffed to the detective. Neither boy is smiling, or even looking at the camera; Light is glaring coldly at Lawliet, as the raven-haired insomniac crouches in his office chair, like always, in his white shirt and baggy jeans, like always, carefully balancing a spoon between his finger and his thumb, like always, shovelling a tiny cube of strawberry cake into his wide-open mouth, like always. The drawing shows him as a simple L, because to the rest of the world, that's all he ever was.
He was childish, and hated losing,
But in the end,
Then comes Angel; the original successor. A punk boy from Yorkshire, he had an angular face, with auburn hair and pale blue eyes sparkling with a childish joy. He usually wore a blue shirt with black net sleeves, black jeans, brown leather boots, and a brown leather collar with matching cuffs for his wrists. His tongue hangs from his mouth in the photograph. Near recognises the scene. It was Christmas, and Beyond had begged Watari to let him take that photograph. His drawing shows him wrapping his long tongue around a lollipop, his eyes half closed with a smiling glee.
He couldn't escape death,
So he's an angel now;
Beyond comes next. In his photograph, he looks exactly like Lawliet, but with red eyes instead of Lawliet's darks ones. And, also unlike Lawliet, he is stood straight, with two fingers in his mouth, jam dripping from his hand. His drawing is gothic; mostly black, with a grey face and blood red eyes. But to many, that was the dangerous Beyond Birthday.
He had a hellish curse,
And without his angel, he lost his mind,
But now he's an angel too.
A gap. A gap for Near's memorial.
And here they are; Mello and Matt. Side by side, as ever, because even in death they will never be apart.
Mello's picture is one taken by one of his Mafia henchmen, showing Mello in his full leather glory, his scar still red and tender. He has chocolate in his hand, a gun in his crotch and a cruel sneer crossing his face, all the way from the femininely pointed chin, to the icy blue eyes beneath his blonde fringe. His drawing shows him as a child, the Wammy's Boy Near had known so well, with baggy black clothes and blonde bob, chocolate staining his teeth, apparently sitting on Beyond, who'd had a habit of calling Mello girly.
He was filled with so much hatred,
But when he died,
He happily helped the boy he hated.
Matt's photo is a mug-shot. He stands in front of the lined wall, goggles pushed up into his red hair to show his emerald green eyes. The blackboard between his gloved hands holds the name Satoshi Tajiri, but this is fake; Matt is not the creator of Pokémon. The blackboard partly covers his tan body-warmer and striped shirt, his jeans and boots lost below the camera's view. In one corner of his mouth, an un-lit cigarette is clenched, causing him to sneer, and a smear of chocolate is failing to hide in the other corner. His drawing shows him with his goggles down over his eyes, his legs crossed, and a Game-boy clasped firmly between his hands, gloves and warmer discarded. A cigarette dangles from his lips, a thin trail of smoke twirling off into the air. The only colour the artist has used is red; his hair.
He never wanted to be L.
He never wanted to be alone.
He got his wish.
Near backs away from the memorial, and leans against a small table. On that table stands a box Marlboro Smooth, a jar of strawberry jam, and a strawberry lollipop.
Near opens a window, lights a cigarette and balances it on the windowsill. Opening the jam, he takes the plastic from the lollipop and dips it into the jam.
Near opens a window, and lights Matt's vice, with a fragrance and flavour of Mello's vice. Opening Beyond's vice, he dips in Angel's vice, both flavoured like Lawliet's vice.
And so, sat on the windowsill, surrounded by his passed comrades' weaknesses, is a lonely boy in white pyjamas.
"Near?" a voice echoes down the hallway, "I've found a case you'll like…"
"I'm not in the mood for a case," Near says monotonously.
"In a town in Yorkshire, fifty miles from the sea…"
"Roger, I'm not in the mood."
"A teenage singer has been murdered, and her three friends are missing."
"Were the three friends also singers?"
"Her tongue was cut out and her cheeks cut open. She bled to death."
"Someone was jealous of her talent. So easy; even the police could work it out."
"I've already asked around. She had no major competition, and only two girls who were apparently her enemies. One called Valkyrie Bayton, but she was in an after-school detention during Holly- Holly Sange, the victim- Holly's time of death, so has a solid alibi. Ironically, she was in detention for punching Holly in the face."
"It was probably the other one."
"Yes, Laurel Silver. No alibi, but she's a well-behaved student with no reason to hurt Holly other than the fact that they didn't get along. And she certainly doesn't have a reason to hold the other three hostage."
"Both parents with stable jobs, in a stable marriage. She herself is a journalist and a writer, working towards a scholarship into an Arts Academy. Fairly intelligent, gets relatively good grades, and according to her school reports, she 'has a select group of friends' and 'works better when it suits her, i.e. if she is to be rewarded'."
"Still sounds like a pretty simple case to me."
"You'll change your mind when you see this," Roger holds out a photograph.
"What is it?"
"The victim's chest."
"I'm not a pervert, Roger."
Near looks at the photograph anyway, and his jaw drops; a rare display of emotion. The victim has skin the colour of milky coffee, now with a visible tinge of blue. Judging from the blood that has dried around the puncture, a safety pin had been pressed through the skin over her collar bone while she was still alive. A piece of paper is attached to the pin, and is laid limply across her chest. On that paper, five words have been written in blue felt tip;
Remember the toy soldiers?
ZOMG I'm an OC
The not-DN characters are GHS characters, which is a series I write for Figment. Just to clarify, they are based on my school friends, and a few invented characters thrown in for good measure.
This story was inspired by a YouTube video. Link (Remove the spaces);
www. youtube watch? v=dgYnLnErzao&feature =related
I intend to mix in both Martika and Eminem, so nobody get upset!
I had lots of fun thinking up these deaths. I think I'll write more murder stories *evil laugh*
I don't own Death Note. Or the fore-mentioned YouTube video. I do own GHS though. But only the stories, not the actual school.