A Death Note Carol

In the Present

"Oh God," thought Light. "It must be a spirit. Why must they be so strange? Can they not just arrive normally at my door? Still, at least I shant be afraid this time." Boldly he strode downstairs ignoring the vague smell of smoke. Maybe he shouldn't have, as the smoke alarm in the kitchen switched on; its shrill shriek abusing Lights ears. He preferred his name being called eerily than this.

Runing into the kitchen he saw that every electrical appliance was on; the microwave spun, pinged, then spun some more, the taps were on, the light bulb flashed, the oven and grill billowed black smoke, the clock hands spun inanely around the clock face, the toaster was flinging two burnt toast into the air, the washer and dryer were both busily washing and drying nothing. All the smaller appliances, such as the egg timer and cake mixer, rolled about on the floor, ruining the laminated tiles.

'Mother won't be happy…'

It was as if the kitchen had gone insane.

He watched bewildered as the vacuum cleaner calmly hoovered its way, unaided, into the kitchen and out into the sitting room.

As it left he snapped out of his stupor and rushed to turn off the appliances. They began to frizzle and bang, electric blue lights shooting up out of every appliance.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!" A voice screeched out, louder and more annoying than the smoke alarm. Light had fell to the floor like a bomb had hit and before he was about to get up, two arms grabbed him. "WHY??" Cried a familiar face, spitting slightly into Lights.

"M-Matsuda??"

Light was dropped unceremoniously as Matsuda began to spin inanely around the room. "NOT MATSUDA!" Cried the Being, evidently happy once more.

"I.

AM.

PR.

PRE.

PRESENT!!!"

Light died a little inside. At least Past, whilst not likeable, had some kind of dignity, a little like Rem. This guy was obviously a brainless imbecile like Ryuuk.

"No, not like Ryuuk!" He cried, running over to Light too fast for any human. It was disturbing to see. Sort of like when a stationary spider suddenly speeds across the floor within seconds. "He stole my marbles! THE FIEND!!"

Wiping more spittle from his face, Light tried not scowl. Important information was available here. "You know Ryuuk? Do the spirits mingle with Death Gods?"

"I do!" He puffed out his chest. "Kick their asses at cards…" Suddenly he put his hand to his ear like Peter Pan. "Time to go!" He ordered. "NOW!" Grabbing Lights arm, he smashed out of the kitchen window and sped at high speeds through the street. Light knew his legs were dangling in the air, he could feel them flying through the air, a sensation he had only felt before on roller coasters; that helpless feeling of your body being flung around by something bigger and more powerful, and you were just there for the ride.

The lights began to go by too fast and for a moment Light closed his eyes. He opened them as they began to slow down. There, in front of him, was the famous clock tower Big Ben, all lit up with Christmas lights and shinning like a beacon in the city of London.

"How-" he began but let it go.

This was the work of the supernatural.

What was more important was why they where there. Light did not know anyone in England. Though his life was intertwined with everyone else's , correct?

So whoever they were going to see was bound to be important. Light did not want another shock like Naomi's child. Everyone, he decided, was note worthy. Everyone was important enough to concentrate on. And this was easier said than done, as Light had discovered through Sayu that his observational skills were not as immense as he had assumed. No wonder L was always able to see through him; L really did have those qualities. Light scowled again. Whatever L could do, Light could do the same if not better.

They were now in the country side. The sky was a pale blue with dusky pink streaks flowing through it. The seemingly everlasting fields, marked off by hedgerows, were monochrome with snow and the odd, bare vegetation.

It was very beautiful.

And very, very cold.

"EARLY MORNING'S ARE ALWAYS COLD IN BRITAIN!! EVEN IN SUMMER, HAHAHA!!" Screamed Present, causing a flock of crows to flee from their branches into the sky, cawing in offence. He had probably woken them up, the fool.

Boyish sniggers were heard behind them. "This seems familiar," thought Light dryly as he turned to see two young boys, a blond and a red-head, walking buoyantly up the frozen pathway.

"Ok, so you need to go to church with me now," the blond was saying.

"What? I don't care about your God!" Laughed the red-head.

"He doesn't care about you, witch, no matter what the goody Christians say." The blond bit back, no malice in his voice. "However as I spent all night in a fucking field celebrating the fact that last night was a bit longer than most nights," He waved a thick candle stick he had been holding around melodramatically. "I think you owe me."

"Of course I'll go with you." Smiled the red-head. Now he was closer Light could see they were in the middle of puberty. Both had the awkward gangly limbs and less than perfect skin.

However, it was clear that they were both very striking.

Sort of like how L was, with his pale skin and dark hair. "He is ugly," thought Light quickly. The reluctantly, "but he has that special quirkiness that I will never posses. Not that I care. But it is something that can be appreciated." The boys walked passed he and Present and they began to follow them. "And I appreciate beauty. Even that sort of…odd beauty."

"Your God is alright," the red-head was continuing. "Can't say I like all his followers though."

"Me neither. No one does. It's what is so hard about being Christian." The blond sighed, again with an unnecessary drama and volume. "And your Divine Mothers aren't too bad either…" He wrapped his arm around the red-head in a slightly awkward, yet touching manner. The red head looked at him smirking. The blond did not look at him, apparently a little embarrassed.

"Happy Yuletide, bastard spell-casting, human sacrificing Pagan."

"Happy Christmas, gay-hating, Jew killing bible basher. Just so you know, we pagans haven't sacrificed anyone for some time. The idea that we did is still conjecture."

"Tell that to the frozen bodies in Denmark bogs. Anyway, when was the last time I killed a Jew?"

"Well, you want to kill N…"

"True. Is he Jewish?"

"No idea. As you wanted to kill him, I figured so."

The boys sniggered as a tall house came into view. Leaping over a small wooden fence they snuck into what looked like a back door in to a kitchen. It was what you would expect of an old country house kitchen. It was large and tall. The tiles on the floor and wall were the warm colours of red and orange. It smelt delicious, a traditional roast cooked slowly in the massive oven. Peering inside Light could tell it was meant to feed a lot of people. He could hear the voices of numerous children. Was it for them? What was this place?

Leaning back up he realised that Present was being very quiet and, looking around, he realised the spirit was gone. Light opened his mouth in shock. He had just…left him??!! Uncertain, Light followed the boys. What else could he do, invisible and…somewhere… in England?

They walked into a huge hallway, where children ran to and fro. Rather harried adults in sensible clothes (the type care workers and teachers wear) watched them anxiously, but made no move to calm the rioting kids down. It was only when Light looked carefully (everyone was important, that he saw that not all the children looked happy or even comfortable. In various corners children sat, curled up, big eyes watching warily. Like, like L…Through the halls he walked behind the bickering boys, seeing more and more anxious, and, even more disturbingly, disassociated children staring blankly at nothing, toys held in limp, uncaring hands.

With this sight, he began to recognise the exuberance of many of the children as almost forced. As if to say, "look at me! I'm all better now! I'm happy! Honestly, I'm happy!"

"At least these two have each other," thought Light, the old sadness he felt when watching Sayu and Luka gathering into his stomach again. The angry red-eyed thought tried to stab the darkness away, but Light wouldn't let it. There was no harm in feeling sadness on those who deserved it. Indeed, watching the pair Light wondered why he never had had a friend like that. Sure he had friends and family, but he had never connected with someone so fully. He had never thought too much on it. After all, he did not really need friendship, or so he always told himself. Yet, he took so much time in his appearance! He tried so hard to make everyone like him! Why? It was nothing to do with him being successful. Not really. He had his brilliance which spoke for itself. Look at L. He was as sociable as a pissed off alley cat. Yet he was the top three greatest detectives in the world. He would probably go down in history. Light smiled a little at the thought before-

As a demon, when your through making your new world.

His smile faded. He felt strangely sad with it gone. Little did he know that the small, short lived smile was the first real one he had had since he was a small child. He would not let L be remembered as a devil in his new world. Rather…as someone who was misguided. He will remain forever as someone to be remembered as making a mistake that should not be repeated.

For some reason, Light felt dissatisfied with this. But…unless he thought of a way to convince L to submit to Kira (a shudder went down his spine as the words ran through his head) then L had to die. He had to…

"What are you staring at you little freak!" Spat the blond with a violence Light would not have realised him capable of.

Shaken out his musings he looked the boys. The red-head was looking silently disapprovingly at the blond, who was himself glowering at a smaller, very strange looking child.

Had the blond not been yelling at the small creature, Light would have mistaken him for a spirit. His cloths, hair and skin were all white. The there were the eyes, heavy eyelashes decorated the large grey orbs. They were like L's only a little lighter. But what Light really noticed about them was that, despite the deceptively passive face, his eyes looked like they had just experienced heart break.

"Number Two, come here at once!" A didactic voice barked out. Looking caught, the blond moodily walked over to a rather stern, elderly gentleman in a suit.

"oooohhh!" Cooed a familiar, excitable voice. "Number Two is in trouble AGAIN!"

"Where did you go?" Cried Light rounding on the annoying creature.

He looked a little scared and bewildered reminding Light of a child who is about to spew a ridiculous lie. "Well, being Present I sort of have to be everywhere at once. There's so much to see!!! Just now a hippo just ATE a crocodile!!! I had to see it! I don't get much warning for when something cool is going to happen."

"But, you're not actually in Matsuda, your using his image from my mind as a projection or a tool, to communicate with me. So surely you as Present can go anywhere?"

A slight pause.

Present was giving him a look blanker than any the real Matsuda had ever gave. It was as blank as a crude child's drawing. Suddenly, Present broke out into a big indulgent smile.

"Come on, Liiiight-kun, lets follow!"

Chasing after Number Two and the angry man, Light took one look back at the red head and the ghost child. The ghostly child was looking at the floor, his jaw stubbornly set, his eyes smarting over the abuse he received from Number Two. The red head was looking between the ghost child and Number Two, but did not seem particularly concerned for either.

Light smiled slightly. He understood that emotion, or rather, that thought process. The red-head was calmly analysing the situation, deciding which child o stay with, to defend. Unlike Light, he would have acted overtly torn between the two, the red-head calmly made his decision and stayed with the ghostly boy. Light could not help but respect the honesty that boy possessed.

Looking forward towards Number Two and the older man Light could not help but wonder just when he became so dishonest. When was the last time in his life when he was completely and utterly truthful?

Opening his office door, the man let Number Two and inadvertently the two spectres inside. 'Isabel' was being played loudly from a record player. Sitting behind his desk, the man closed his eyes and lost himself in the music, now and then shaking his head in time with the vocals.

"Sir," began Number Two, but the man lifted his finger to silence the boy. As the song reached its crescendo, the man mouthing along (eyes still closed,) the blond watched visibly irked.

Looking around, Light could see a couple of posters on the wall of Il Divo. On the desk there was a picture of the elderly man with Il Divo grinning around him. It was even signed:

A Roger, il nostro più devoti stalker maschile continuare ad acquistare le nostre cose

"So, he's name is Roger and he has an teenage girl type crush on Il Divo… How does this relate to me??"

"Now Number Two." Began Roger.

"Please don't call me that!" Barked the blond. "Call me M-"

"I have no time for your shenanigans!!" Screamed Roger.

"You had time to si-"

"SHHHHH!!! A lesson was there my boy. A lesson." He intoned, leaning forward over his desk. "Do you know what that lesson was?"

"No sir," replied Number Two wearily.

"Which is why you are Number Two." Nodded Roger, causing Number Two glower at him with murderous intent.

"It was to annoy you my boy. That irritation you felt at me disregarding your presence is how I feel whenever you disregard my basic rules. Just to be pleasant to one another. Is that so much to ask?" He stood and walked over to a side which held a dozen clear plastic boxes containing various tarantula's and foreign insect. "I never wanted to look after children." He muttered. "It was music and bugs for me." He turned and looked at Number Two.

"My dream," he announced, "was to-"

"Own a shop selling music and bugs," Number Two intoned in unisons with the older man. "I know Sir…"

"But we don't always get what we want, Number Two." Roger dropped some pellets into the tarantula's cages. "And you must be nice to Number One."

Number Two winced at the last two words.

"You're both like instruments. You are a flute…no…more like a trombone. And Number One is a flute."

"Why can't I be a -!!"

"Individually, not that interesting, but together…" Roger looked into the distance. "Together you'd make beautiful music."

"Please don't say things like th-"

"Besides, Number Two, you're a Christian!" Continued Roger. "What would Jesus do?"

Number Two sighed heavily. "He would be nice…"

"He would have thrown in a foot rub too," Roger pressed. "No punishment today, as, for once, Number One was not physically injured, but you are to help Father McGowan with the Mass preparations tonight."

"Yes sir."

"LAAAAMME!!" Booed Present, making Light jump slightly. He was beginning to wonder if he hadn't just been thrown into a pantomime. Nonetheless they followed Number Two out of the room, 'The Adagio' by Il Divo now being blasted out full force.

"Light Kuun!" Present wailed suddenly, somewhat disturbingly reminding Light of when Misa lost the last vestiges of self respect and begged him for sex. "I hear noise and laughter. Lets find." Grabbing Lights arm again they shot off before he could protest.

They entered (in a whirlwind rush) into a large living room area. Children of all ages milled about finding seats and getting comfortable. Light was secretly quite pleased to see some of the scared children he saw earlier looking anxiously curious and even a little happy. In the middle of the medley a woman stood yelling general seating orders. Light blinked a few times. Did he know her from somewhere?

From behind him, the red head and ghostly boy from earlier entered into the room. The ghost boy reminded Light so much of Luka…he wondered if they had experienced similar trauma's. "Seriously," the red-head was saying in a laid back manner, "he called me a

bastard spell-casting, human sacrificing Pagan. He's like that with people he…is interested in. If he disliked you he would ignore you."

The ghost boy sat down, twirling a curly white lock around a thin finger. "I do not care if Number Two has any feelings of comradeship towards my person."

"No," muttered the red-head with a slight smile. "Of course not."

Light resisted a smirk (out of habit, it wasn't like anyone could see him. And Present had disappeared again. "Maybe he's gone off to watch a giraffe eat a dove," Light thought scathingly.)

"Right, now we are seated," smiled the woman, her English heavily accented. "Who wants their special L present?"

Everyone in the room reacted with smiles, except for Light.

"So here is the link…"

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