Categories > Anime/Manga > Death Note > Shinigami: Death of the Old World
“Darn it…what the heck is this ‘Moloch’ stuff about? What did he do?”
Ryuk’s voice was slightly distorted as it came through the viewing hole’s speakers and echoed through the tower’s control room, blending with the sounds coming from the hole trained on the Trackers. The King smiled…so they were still pronouncing his name correctly down in the human world… He must’ve made quite the impression on Geoffrey Smith’s village, to cause his correct name to sweep across the globe once again. Before his final visit, the humans had distorted it into something like ‘Molek’, the stupid creatures. Give them a few hundred years, and their feeble memories distorted everything until it was beyond recognition. Even their realm had become distorted, barely recognizable through the huge changes that had happened since Geoffrey had died, only five hundred years ago…ah, Geoffrey. Not many shinigami willingly possessed humans…the only living shinigami he could think of who’d done so were Ryuk and Rem. Other than himself, of course. He was like Ryuk in that way…back before he’d been King, possessing humans had been a hobby of his. He’d possessed a few humans before Geoffrey, but none had been nearly as useful before their deaths…and perhaps with the exception of Ryuk’s human, none of the others had been as entertaining in their deaths, either…
Truth was, he’d finished the viewing holes long before he’d gone to Shoboro for a second note…there was no need to go down to the human world to “work on transmission”. That was how he’d found Geoffrey Smith in the first place; with a newly completed viewing hole. No, he’d needed to go to the human world for an entirely different purpose…one that Geoffrey had fulfilled quite nicely. He’d been a talented swordsmith in a little village in England, the kind with a few farms and one little church. He’d lived happily with his four children and wife…well, five children, after his wife died delivering the last one. It had been then that Moloch had decided to strike. The timing was perfect….with the pain of losing his wife so fresh in his mind, he’d be even more protective of his other family members, especially the new one…it would be easy to get Geoffrey to do what he wanted. Moloch chuckled as he remembered their first meeting. It was only after he’d entered his shop and lit the forge that Geoffrey had seen the thin black notebook on the floor…oh, how the colour had rushed out of his face after he picked it up and spotted the shinigami on the rafters…!
“What…who are you?” he’d finally managed to squeak.
“Hello, Geoffrey. My name is Moloch, and that’s my notebook you have. All of those who touch my notebook can see me and hear my voice, but since you were the first to do so, you will be possessed by me until the day you die. You can use my power to kill other humans, if you wish…just write their name in the notebook. Be sure not to give it away, though…the notebook kills its previous owners once they give up ownership…” That was a lie, of course, but he couldn’t have Geoffrey giving the notebook away and losing his memories. That would defeat his purpose for coming to the human world in the first place.
“M-Moloch? He…he who…?”
“Yes, yes. Your priest got it right.” He’d been watching Geoffrey as he went to that sermon…the priest had talked about the ‘demon who grew stronger when children were sacrificed by fire.’ It just made sense to kill the humans while they were young…more lifespan gained, with less writing-and what could he say? Fire was one of the more entertaining methods of death. The entire congregation had shuddered as the priest had talked…it was hilarious. Did the humans he’d possessed before really find it that shocking?
“Now, listen closely, Geoffrey. About a mile into the woods behind your house, there’s a pile of metal from my realm. I need you to make them into knives.” Tzargantium, of course…he’d been sneaking it into the human world for a while now, as he’d watched Geoffrey, assessing his worthiness...
“W-what? Why?”
“That’s why I chose to posses you in the first place…I only work with metal after it’s been forged, and the one who does the actual shaping is very loyal to the current ruler of my realm…the one whom these weapons are being made to overthrow. You have a reasonable amount of talent, for a human. You’ll do just fine.”
“But…I…”
“Do you think the pagans wanted to sacrifice their children any more than you would, Geoffrey? My powers reach farther than you may think…make me my weapons, and you’ll cause no harm to your children…I won’t feel the need to take any more family members from you than I have already…”
“You…you’re the one who…Maggie’s…death?”
“Yes, Geoffrey…it was my fault you didn’t get the doctor in time…that is how I work, influencing humans so that their actions cause the deaths of loved ones…funny, isn’t it?” He hadn’t actually done anything to Margaret Smith-that was a lie, too. Her lifespan had just happened to run out on its own naturally, but there was no reason he couldn’t use it to his advantage. Of course, that had scared the living hell out of the poor human, and he’d set to work at once. He’d worked for a month, barely containing his fear as he churned out knives and Moloch watched from the rafters. He’d even managed Moloch’s weapon of choice when he requested it- a scythe.
Geoffrey never did use the death note, however…he was a rarity, that one. A human who truly had no one that he wanted to kill…was repulsed by the idea of killing anything. The kind other humans called ‘decent’ and ‘upstanding.’ It had come as no surprise, then, when he’d finally started to crack…eventually; he’d grabbed the notebook from its hiding place under the floorboards of the shop and ran to his priest with it.
“Father…,” he’d wailed, finally breaking down into tears. “I am possessed…possessed by the demon Moloch…he is forcing me to make weapons for him…he’ll kill my children…”
“Calm down…calm down, my son…what happened? What do you mean by ‘possessed’? Many people feel threatened when demons appear to them in dreams, but they cannot truly harm you when they appear in this manner...”
Geoffrey had stopped crying then; he’d just looked at the priest in a sadly resigned way. “It’s no dream, father. The demon is standing behind me right now. It follows me everywhere. You can see it…” Geoffrey had held up the notebook, then… “if you touch this…”
The priest had looked sceptical, of course, but he’d touched it…then screamed when he saw Moloch standing behind Geoffrey’s chair.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Moloch had said in reply.
The priest had tried the “power of Christ compels you” and holy water bit then…of course, it hadn’t worked.
“Geoffrey,” the old man had wheezed, “this is indeed a demon…and a powerful one…we need the help of the Vatican. I’ll leave with you first thing tomorrow. We will be gone for several weeks…you’d best pack, and prepare your children for your absence…” If Moloch couldn’t have seen the priest’s remaining six months over his head, he would’ve thought he’d keel over from a heart attack at any second.
Geoffrey had done just that. He’d gone home, packed, and told his oldest son and apprentice, Richard, that he’d be in charge of the smithy while he was ‘escorting the Father on a journey’. He’d given him one last run through of where the tools were, demonstrated how to light the forge one last time, and sent him back to the house…then he’d stood there for hours, in the dark and silence.
Moloch had broken the silence first. “You know, Geoffrey…you can’t make my weapons for me if you’re going away.”
“I’ll make nothing more for you, demon. Who is the ruler of your realm…the devil?”
Moloch had chuckled. “No.”
“Then it’s as I thought…you don’t just mean hell when you talk of your realm…it’s the entire realm beyond this earth…you hope to overthrow the Lord himself.”
Moloch had thought his sides would split with laughter…oh, humans were just precious. Geoffrey, however, seemed to take this as confirmation of his theory.
“I’ll help you no further…I’ll taint my soul no further than I have already by helping you. It doesn’t matter if you kill me…my soul is what counts. So long as my soul and the souls of my children remain pure, you cannot truly harm us…”
He’d gone silent again then, and went back to standing motionlessly. Moloch had waited a bit, seeing if he’d crack, fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness, beg him to spare his life and the lives of his children…nope. The stupid human seemed resolute.
“As you wish,” Moloch had said.
“Be gone, demon.”
The human relaxed and smiled for the first time in a month as Moloch had left the smithy…silly thing. He probably thought he’d ‘banished the demon’, so to speak…in any case, he’d gone to the priest the next morning with the good news, and they’d cancelled their trip. It was true that that was the last time he ever saw Moloch, but about everything else, he was sorely mistaken.
Richard Smith
Joyce Smith
Thomas Smith
Margaret Smith
John Smith
October 14th, 1527, 9p.m. Burn to death after their father fails to put out the forge properly, causing the smithy and family home to burn to the ground.
Geoffrey Smith
October 16th, 1527, 3a.m. Suicide.
Moloch had brought the weapons up to the shinigami realm as he waited to see if the humans died the way he’d written in this death note. They did, every single one of them. He’d returned one final time after stowing the last knife away, to find the charred remains of Geoffrey’s house and workshop and five new markers in the village cemetery. He’d also made it to the river just in time…he’d smiled and waved at Geoffrey before he’d jumped in. Poor, silly human…he’d picked a useless time to die, if he wanted to stop Moloch’s plan by refusing to help. He’d already made more than enough weapons than necessary. Weapons that had come in very handy, over the time that had been both the best and worst of his life…the establishment of his Kingship…
The King had taken the largest jar out of the cupboard and brought it with him up to the control room. He picked it up and looked sadly at it, then looked back at the screen of the viewing hole…Ryuk and Rem were flying again, after their futile search for the meaning of “Moloch.” Of course they wouldn’t find anything specific…the humans who knew the specifics tended to die before they could tell, and there was nothing left after that but the rumours, becoming vague and distorted with time. Once Geoffrey, his family, and the old priest had died, the villagers were only able to speculate. It had been the same when Ryuk possessed his human…he’d watched the entire time from this very control room, other than the brief moment he’d taken to capture Rem. Those who knew the truth about the ‘Kira’ legend would die in less than fifty years, and only the rumours, so far off from the truth, would remain…
He took his eyes off Ryuk and Rem and looked back at the jar.
“I’m truly sorry it has to be this way…I have no choice but to kill him now, after all this…,” he told it.
Ryuk’s voice was slightly distorted as it came through the viewing hole’s speakers and echoed through the tower’s control room, blending with the sounds coming from the hole trained on the Trackers. The King smiled…so they were still pronouncing his name correctly down in the human world… He must’ve made quite the impression on Geoffrey Smith’s village, to cause his correct name to sweep across the globe once again. Before his final visit, the humans had distorted it into something like ‘Molek’, the stupid creatures. Give them a few hundred years, and their feeble memories distorted everything until it was beyond recognition. Even their realm had become distorted, barely recognizable through the huge changes that had happened since Geoffrey had died, only five hundred years ago…ah, Geoffrey. Not many shinigami willingly possessed humans…the only living shinigami he could think of who’d done so were Ryuk and Rem. Other than himself, of course. He was like Ryuk in that way…back before he’d been King, possessing humans had been a hobby of his. He’d possessed a few humans before Geoffrey, but none had been nearly as useful before their deaths…and perhaps with the exception of Ryuk’s human, none of the others had been as entertaining in their deaths, either…
Truth was, he’d finished the viewing holes long before he’d gone to Shoboro for a second note…there was no need to go down to the human world to “work on transmission”. That was how he’d found Geoffrey Smith in the first place; with a newly completed viewing hole. No, he’d needed to go to the human world for an entirely different purpose…one that Geoffrey had fulfilled quite nicely. He’d been a talented swordsmith in a little village in England, the kind with a few farms and one little church. He’d lived happily with his four children and wife…well, five children, after his wife died delivering the last one. It had been then that Moloch had decided to strike. The timing was perfect….with the pain of losing his wife so fresh in his mind, he’d be even more protective of his other family members, especially the new one…it would be easy to get Geoffrey to do what he wanted. Moloch chuckled as he remembered their first meeting. It was only after he’d entered his shop and lit the forge that Geoffrey had seen the thin black notebook on the floor…oh, how the colour had rushed out of his face after he picked it up and spotted the shinigami on the rafters…!
“What…who are you?” he’d finally managed to squeak.
“Hello, Geoffrey. My name is Moloch, and that’s my notebook you have. All of those who touch my notebook can see me and hear my voice, but since you were the first to do so, you will be possessed by me until the day you die. You can use my power to kill other humans, if you wish…just write their name in the notebook. Be sure not to give it away, though…the notebook kills its previous owners once they give up ownership…” That was a lie, of course, but he couldn’t have Geoffrey giving the notebook away and losing his memories. That would defeat his purpose for coming to the human world in the first place.
“M-Moloch? He…he who…?”
“Yes, yes. Your priest got it right.” He’d been watching Geoffrey as he went to that sermon…the priest had talked about the ‘demon who grew stronger when children were sacrificed by fire.’ It just made sense to kill the humans while they were young…more lifespan gained, with less writing-and what could he say? Fire was one of the more entertaining methods of death. The entire congregation had shuddered as the priest had talked…it was hilarious. Did the humans he’d possessed before really find it that shocking?
“Now, listen closely, Geoffrey. About a mile into the woods behind your house, there’s a pile of metal from my realm. I need you to make them into knives.” Tzargantium, of course…he’d been sneaking it into the human world for a while now, as he’d watched Geoffrey, assessing his worthiness...
“W-what? Why?”
“That’s why I chose to posses you in the first place…I only work with metal after it’s been forged, and the one who does the actual shaping is very loyal to the current ruler of my realm…the one whom these weapons are being made to overthrow. You have a reasonable amount of talent, for a human. You’ll do just fine.”
“But…I…”
“Do you think the pagans wanted to sacrifice their children any more than you would, Geoffrey? My powers reach farther than you may think…make me my weapons, and you’ll cause no harm to your children…I won’t feel the need to take any more family members from you than I have already…”
“You…you’re the one who…Maggie’s…death?”
“Yes, Geoffrey…it was my fault you didn’t get the doctor in time…that is how I work, influencing humans so that their actions cause the deaths of loved ones…funny, isn’t it?” He hadn’t actually done anything to Margaret Smith-that was a lie, too. Her lifespan had just happened to run out on its own naturally, but there was no reason he couldn’t use it to his advantage. Of course, that had scared the living hell out of the poor human, and he’d set to work at once. He’d worked for a month, barely containing his fear as he churned out knives and Moloch watched from the rafters. He’d even managed Moloch’s weapon of choice when he requested it- a scythe.
Geoffrey never did use the death note, however…he was a rarity, that one. A human who truly had no one that he wanted to kill…was repulsed by the idea of killing anything. The kind other humans called ‘decent’ and ‘upstanding.’ It had come as no surprise, then, when he’d finally started to crack…eventually; he’d grabbed the notebook from its hiding place under the floorboards of the shop and ran to his priest with it.
“Father…,” he’d wailed, finally breaking down into tears. “I am possessed…possessed by the demon Moloch…he is forcing me to make weapons for him…he’ll kill my children…”
“Calm down…calm down, my son…what happened? What do you mean by ‘possessed’? Many people feel threatened when demons appear to them in dreams, but they cannot truly harm you when they appear in this manner...”
Geoffrey had stopped crying then; he’d just looked at the priest in a sadly resigned way. “It’s no dream, father. The demon is standing behind me right now. It follows me everywhere. You can see it…” Geoffrey had held up the notebook, then… “if you touch this…”
The priest had looked sceptical, of course, but he’d touched it…then screamed when he saw Moloch standing behind Geoffrey’s chair.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Moloch had said in reply.
The priest had tried the “power of Christ compels you” and holy water bit then…of course, it hadn’t worked.
“Geoffrey,” the old man had wheezed, “this is indeed a demon…and a powerful one…we need the help of the Vatican. I’ll leave with you first thing tomorrow. We will be gone for several weeks…you’d best pack, and prepare your children for your absence…” If Moloch couldn’t have seen the priest’s remaining six months over his head, he would’ve thought he’d keel over from a heart attack at any second.
Geoffrey had done just that. He’d gone home, packed, and told his oldest son and apprentice, Richard, that he’d be in charge of the smithy while he was ‘escorting the Father on a journey’. He’d given him one last run through of where the tools were, demonstrated how to light the forge one last time, and sent him back to the house…then he’d stood there for hours, in the dark and silence.
Moloch had broken the silence first. “You know, Geoffrey…you can’t make my weapons for me if you’re going away.”
“I’ll make nothing more for you, demon. Who is the ruler of your realm…the devil?”
Moloch had chuckled. “No.”
“Then it’s as I thought…you don’t just mean hell when you talk of your realm…it’s the entire realm beyond this earth…you hope to overthrow the Lord himself.”
Moloch had thought his sides would split with laughter…oh, humans were just precious. Geoffrey, however, seemed to take this as confirmation of his theory.
“I’ll help you no further…I’ll taint my soul no further than I have already by helping you. It doesn’t matter if you kill me…my soul is what counts. So long as my soul and the souls of my children remain pure, you cannot truly harm us…”
He’d gone silent again then, and went back to standing motionlessly. Moloch had waited a bit, seeing if he’d crack, fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness, beg him to spare his life and the lives of his children…nope. The stupid human seemed resolute.
“As you wish,” Moloch had said.
“Be gone, demon.”
The human relaxed and smiled for the first time in a month as Moloch had left the smithy…silly thing. He probably thought he’d ‘banished the demon’, so to speak…in any case, he’d gone to the priest the next morning with the good news, and they’d cancelled their trip. It was true that that was the last time he ever saw Moloch, but about everything else, he was sorely mistaken.
Richard Smith
Joyce Smith
Thomas Smith
Margaret Smith
John Smith
October 14th, 1527, 9p.m. Burn to death after their father fails to put out the forge properly, causing the smithy and family home to burn to the ground.
Geoffrey Smith
October 16th, 1527, 3a.m. Suicide.
Moloch had brought the weapons up to the shinigami realm as he waited to see if the humans died the way he’d written in this death note. They did, every single one of them. He’d returned one final time after stowing the last knife away, to find the charred remains of Geoffrey’s house and workshop and five new markers in the village cemetery. He’d also made it to the river just in time…he’d smiled and waved at Geoffrey before he’d jumped in. Poor, silly human…he’d picked a useless time to die, if he wanted to stop Moloch’s plan by refusing to help. He’d already made more than enough weapons than necessary. Weapons that had come in very handy, over the time that had been both the best and worst of his life…the establishment of his Kingship…
The King had taken the largest jar out of the cupboard and brought it with him up to the control room. He picked it up and looked sadly at it, then looked back at the screen of the viewing hole…Ryuk and Rem were flying again, after their futile search for the meaning of “Moloch.” Of course they wouldn’t find anything specific…the humans who knew the specifics tended to die before they could tell, and there was nothing left after that but the rumours, becoming vague and distorted with time. Once Geoffrey, his family, and the old priest had died, the villagers were only able to speculate. It had been the same when Ryuk possessed his human…he’d watched the entire time from this very control room, other than the brief moment he’d taken to capture Rem. Those who knew the truth about the ‘Kira’ legend would die in less than fifty years, and only the rumours, so far off from the truth, would remain…
He took his eyes off Ryuk and Rem and looked back at the jar.
“I’m truly sorry it has to be this way…I have no choice but to kill him now, after all this…,” he told it.
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