Blood and Sugar

Chapter XII: Ashes

And in the end I had to fall, always find my place among the ashes.

I walked through the halls of Whammy's house for the first time at the age of eighteen. I was fresh out of high school, and my parents' home, and dating possibly the strangest man I had ever met. I remember talking to the curious children, most of them were autistic, or just very eccentric. I remember a twelve year-old boy named Mello. A rebellious pre-teen with scathing anger issues. But he was drawn to me, always wanting to share with me his feelings, his ideas.

I returned at the age of twenty-two, and he was sixteen. It was then I stopped thinking of Mello as a confused little boy, but a strong young man. I could tell he felt for me, but I couldn't let him into mind like that. He was a minor, and I was a young woman fresh out of college with a steady boyfriend of four years. And then a year and half later, I ran to him, desperate, bruised, weak.

I had seen Near once or twice, but never spoke to him. But now that L was out of the way, Near was desperate, it seemed, to own me. Despite his head games, despite his cruelty, I was starting to develop feelings for him. I hated myself for it. Whatever good he had some for me was for his benefit, mostly. I feared there would come a day, when I couldn't say no, when I would lose control, and I would let him have me. I sometimes had fantasies about what it would be like to sleep with him. He was young, but had a strong sexual power over me. He was twisted, he haunted me with his words. He tormented me, scaring me, but inspiring an almost insatiable lust in me. I wanted him. I wanted to feel his touch on my bare skin. I wanted it. I hated and loved the way he toyed with me so childishly.

I didn't love him though. I pretty much hated him. But hate seemed to fuel my lust. It made it even more wrong. More forbidden. But Mello. I did love him. He protected me, he respected me, and basically treated me like a princess. He wasn't Mello to me anymore. He wasn't that little boy. He was Mihael. He was a fire that burned inside of me. He was passion.

And as we lay in silent bliss, I know you remember me.

I stood in front of the altar, nearly trembling. I wasn't even wearing a wedding dress. It was just a simple deep red dress. Beside me, stood Mihael. In a black dress shirt and pants. Nothing fancy. Just the two of us, and Matt, because we needed a witness. All the words the pastor was saying didn't really register, except the ones that made it final. "...Then by the power invested in me, I now prononce you man and wife."

January 20th. Barely over a week until I was supposed to meet with Near, Raito, and the Japanese taskforce. I had little time left to investigate Raito and Takada. But this time, after calling all of the hotels under the guise of also being on the taskforce, one finally took the bait and revealed that he and Takada were going to be meeting at that hotel at eleven PM. I hadn't yet revealed to Mihael the nature of my investigations, worried he would try to stop me. I was in the car with Matt, four days into my marriage. Matt insisted upon calling me "Mrs. Mello." We arrived at the hotel. It was ritzy, in an almost tacky fashion. We pulled into an indiscreet part of the parking lot, darkened by the presence of decorative trees, blocking the lights. Matt handed me the bag of disguise items.
"Maid outfit," Matt said, pulling out a stolen uniform from the hotel. "Check."
"Blonde wig." He pulled out a platinum blonde wig with long bangs. "Check."
"Fake titties." He took out a pair of silicon bra implants. I prompted for them, because I was noticably flat-chested, and wanted to disguise all my defining attributes. "Check-a-rooni."
"The lovely lacy undergarment for the titties to go in." He pulled out a D-cup bra that dwarfed mine. "Check. That's everything."
"Okay," I said. "Get out for a second, I'll change real quick."
"Oh come on, Morgan. We're practically like sliblings," he said with a big smile on his face.
"Out, pervert."
"Fine," Matt sulked. He got out of the car and moped, back against the window.

I stripped off my clothes, put on the large bra. I felt slightly self-conscious, but I got over it and slipped in the fillers. I put on the Maid's outfit. It was a little small for my size ten frame, clinging to my curves and my fake boobs almost burst out. I tied up my hair, and put the blonde wig on. For the finishing touch, I coated my lips with cherry-red lipstick. I stepped out of the car, and inspected myself in the reflection in the window.
"I think I can feel my IQ dropping," I said.
"Now that I see it," Matt said. "I think I like your old boobs better." I glared at him sharply.
"You're never going to let me see your jahoobs, are you?" he sulked.
"Not on your life, sport." I grabbed a pair of black heels from the seat and slipped them on. "I really feel like a bimbo," I said.
"Well, you really look like one," Matt retorted.
"Shut up," I snapped. "I'll be back later."

I walked into the hotel from the back door. I nervously waited for someone to introgate on why I was there, but nobody said anything. I walked through the laundary room, grabbing a houskeeping cart, and I went on my merry way. Raito was on the top floor, and had booked the room for two hours. I casually went from floor to floor, acting as though I was very busy and had something important to do. I attracted no attention, except for people staring at my fake bust. Finally, at a quarter to one, I rode the elevator to the top floor. Raito was in room 537. I walked past many numbers. 501, a minute later, 514. I seemed to have reached Raito's room just in time, Because he was standing in the doorway, straightening his tie. I saw Lidner and Takada walking down to the elevator. Raito asked me something in Japanese.
"I'm sorry," I said, in a submissive tone. "I-I just moved here. I don't speak much Japanese."
Raito rolled his eyes coldly. "You know what to do with items, right?"
"Y-yes," I stammered.
"Then get to it, idiot," he yelled.
I rushed inside the room, as though terrfied. I was terrified. I was afraid that any second, he would pin me down, and assault me. I nearly started trembling.

And then, I looked on the table. There were notes written in different handwriting. They were Japanese, so I couldn't read them. But they must have been important, they must have been the items he was referring to. I picked them up; there were eleven in total. I folded the together, and stuck them on my hip under the elastic of my undergarments. I quickly rearranged the room, replacing the notepads, pens, everything. Within 90 seconds, I was done. And then.
I felt them.
Hands.
Firmly on my shoulders.
Breath on my ear.
I turned around.
And he had the look.
I crashed to the floor with one good shove, my wig falling aside.
"You," he breathed. "You're supposed to be dead. I should have figured Near would lie."
He walked to the door, shut it, and locked it.
"I am going to kill you," he said coldly. He started unfastening his belt. "But first, I am going to show the world what happens when you mess with Kira." He pulled his belt off.
I screamed with the white hot pain as he started to beat me with the leather belt. I could feel blood running down my back, the fabric ripped and air stinging my wounds. At last he threw the belt aside, panting, beads of sweat forming on his brow. I was blinded with pain and fear. I tried to crawl for the door, weak and trembling, on the verge of vomiting. My darkest fears were playing out, in real life. I could only cry and beg and make whatever attempts to get away. Weight crashed onto my back. I screamed. He gagged me with his hand, but I screamed anyway, until my throat was raw. He rubbed his erection against me through our clothes, but soon it didn't seem to be enough. He got up, and started unbuttoning his pants.
"Take off your clothes," he demanded. He turned away for one split second.
I seized the oppurtunity. Not to escape, but keep my torture from being in vain. I pulled the notes from my underwear, and quickly stashed them under a nearby chair, out of sight. And then, with the best of my ability, I got up, and stripped naked like I was told.

He pushed me onto my back, and took a piece of washcloth and shoved it in my mouth. I closed my eyes. I had to block out the sight of it. All I could feel was hands on my thighs. I could hear the sound of a zipper. And then he slammed into me. I screamed as loud as I could. Screaming was the only thing I could do to block out the pain, even if no one could hear. Within a few minutes, it was over, but it felt like so long. The worst moments of our lives seem to last forever. Because having that psycho mass murder beat and rape me for fun was the worst moment of my life.
"Pathetic," Raito spat at me. "Just a crumpled heap of wasted humanity."
It was over with one swift kick to my lower stomach. I immediately spat up a little blood. Even if I managed to dodge the deathnote, I knew it would be unlikely I could survive such injuries. He forced me to dress, spitting up blood all over my clothes. Raito grabbed my ankles and began to drag me down the silent hallway. I was completely unable to even crawl. Just putting my clothes on had drained all my energy. But I had won. Raito looked away, his fatal mistake. I had the notes.

I faded in and out of consciousness. I was in an elevator, and then outside. I was laying in a pile of bushes, completely hidden by the trees and lack of light. My body would not be found until morning. For hours, I lay there. Until something in me decided to fight. I managed to get up, and start ambling. I will not die, I said to myself.
I will not die.
I will not die.
I WILL NOT DIE!

I was in a groggy and dizzy state, but I managed to spot that muscle car, parked there. I collapsed onto the freezing cold pavement, listening for a moment at the sounds of what was undoubtedly Matt's sneakers.
"I won, Matt," I said.
And I lost all consciousness.