Categories > Anime/Manga > Death Note

Ravens and Writing Desks

by Umbran_Winter 0 reviews

His plan was flawless. There was nothing that he hadn’t anticipated, hadn’t predicted. L was supposed to die. He was supposed to kill him, no, Rem was. There was only one TRUE Kira… not five…

Category: Death Note - Rating: R - Genres: Humor,Sci-fi - Warnings: [!!] [V] - Published: 2008-02-21 - Updated: 2008-02-21 - 2405 words

Hey, not much I can say to this ‘cept it was created, written and posted on a whim. I’ll give you the summary and stuff and if people like the story I’ll keep posting.

Summary: His plan was flawless. There was nothing that he hadn’t anticipated, hadn’t predicted. L was supposed to die. He was supposed to kill him, no, Rem was. There was only one TRUE Kira… not five…

Genre: Humor, Action, Horror

Rated: R

Warnings: Violence, Language, Gore, Frivolous Nonsense, etc…

(Also note that this story is cleverly disguised as something serious when in reality it will turn into nothing more than a nonsensical train wreck filled to the brim with stupidity and EXTREME OOCness….. Just don’t kill me when the personalities of very serious characters are demolished rather purposefully…)

Prologue- Into the Rabbit’s Hole

The clock above his desk had grown into a morphing white noise as the old man, with his unkempt snow-colored hair and deep set pine green eyes, stared exhaustedly at the uniformed police officer sitting across from him, biting his lip nervously. For ten minutes, neither man had been able to speak or break the vice-like tension that had entered the air. The matter at hand had been too much of a shock for them to discuss it now, but it had to be done.

Finally, the officer shifted and cleared his throat.

“As you know, Mr. Scott, I’m here to follow up on the events that took place last week… Could you explain what happened?” The cop spoke with a slight stutter, obviously still remaining in the wide window of immaturity that most people his age would’ve outgrown already. He hadn’t been doing work like this for long. Mr. Scott’s pine colored orbs grew livelier as the silence was broken, the lines in his face deepening into what might’ve been a look of remorse.

“Officer Harris, everyone knows what happened.” Mr. Scott responded finally, his old face stern. Harris cleared his throat and his eyes flitted to elsewhere in the room. The sound of the aged analog clock that seemed to be in every room of every school made itself heard again, loud and menacing.

“I know… but it’s procedure—“ His tone was almost pleading. The old man said nothing at first.

“You’d think in such a small town… we’d never have to deal with school shootings or deaths, but it’s happened. Everyone knows about it, but I guess I should talk about it again.” Officer Harris remained silent “The shooter, a Mr. Chris Doran came to the school last week at around 9:15 AM on the 17th… He had a gun with him and forced thirty other students into the gymnasium. He was a fairly good boy and, as far as I know, he’d done nothing to even remotely warn us of such an action. I never thought he’d do such a thing.”

“How did he die?”

“Well, he made a show of harassing two students in particular. When he went to grab one… the other grabbed an aluminum bat that had been left out with a good deal of other sports equipment for the P.E. class that was supposed to be there that morning. She beat him to death with it, without any hesitation whatsoever.” Mr. Scott sighed, a tremor running through the long release of breath. He had been one of only two faculty members that had seen the carnage before it had been cleaned away. “It’s strange though… he fired three times, right into the crowd of hostages… but no one else died.”

The aged headmaster rubbed his temples quietly, trying to erase the image from his mind as the young police officer grimaced in silence. It dragged on, the tension and the awkwardness of such a violent topic. Both were tired and the media had drained them, for once pulling away from the subject of a killer that could end lives with just a name.

“I was told to get the names of those involved. I need to question them as well so that we can close this up.”

An odd look crossed Mr. Scott’s face as if he were looking at pieces to a puzzle that didn’t quite fit together or belong to that particular puzzle at all.

“Their names are Elizabeth Flamburg and Morrigan Andrews.”


She had hair that had once been black, but so many times had she changed its color that it had become horribly unnatural in appearance and fried. Her dark sepia eyes scanned the algebraic equations in the battered notebook before her as she completed the problems quickly, not caring if her answers were right or wrong.

To someone who had never met her before, she looked as if she were working hard. To someone who had spoken with her at least a few times in their lifetimes would see quite clearly that she was writing something else. She was picturing something else entirely in her mind.

“Kira has been caught. Am I correct?” She mumbled quietly, suddenly, jotting down a number that was too large to be the correct answer to the equation. There was a pause, the only sound being her level breathing and scratch of her writing utensil on the water-stained paper, and then she spoke again.

“Not exactly, huh? … Kira will control Rem soon. Am I correct?” Another pause and she closed her notebook, her pentagram necklace and belly-button piercing jingling in sync as she turned in her swivel chair to give the empty space behind her in the small bedroom an irritated stare. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?”

The room around her was silent. Irately, she snapped the waistband of the childishly patterned boxers that she wore over her real undergarments. A glare marred her expressionless face, giving her an indescribable look of instability.

“Pogo, how am I supposed to—“ She froze as the phone rang on the nightstand of the untidy bed that she had not occupied in quite a long time. It rang again and she rose, straightening one of the straps on her sports bra, an article of clothing that made her appear more flat-chested than she already was.

Reaching out with a hand that’s nails had been bitten and painted too many times to be healthy; she picked up the phone, cutting the third ring short.


The befuddlement that had been on Agnes Scott’s face had slipped into an expression of mild disdain. Harris didn’t speak, even as he seemed to notice that the older man looked as if he were trying to piece together those mismatched pieces that he had found himself with.

“They hated each other all the way through elementary school, and their dislike of each other even escalated to violence on occasions when they made it here. After… after Doran was killed… You can’t keep them away from each other.” The clock became an actual entity in the room, its role as white noise suddenly forgotten. “It was Miss Andrews that had beat Chris Doran to death and Miss Flamburg that he had harassed.

“That girl walked from the gymnasium, covered in blood, and she acted as if she’d done nothing more than run a few laps. Elizabeth was just as composed… I saw her getting something out of the vending machine while the paramedics carted the body away. Her fingers weren’t even shaking.”


Wide sky-blue eyes stared nervously at the pixilated images of a speeding red car on her computer screen. Pressed to her ear with a hand shaking slightly with excitement was a phone that was still white in color. It was new, she had only just gotten one put in her room. A shaking breath, her heart obviously pounding, she closed the window and spoke.

“I’m getting rid of the software… It’d be a r-really stupid idea to k-keep this stuff on my computer…” She stuttered a little, but still managed to keep the nervousness out of her business-like manner. Behind her, on the bed that she had just recently made ready for herself to occupy, the blankets shifted as if the weight of a body had been added.

“So, was that Shinigami that Mokuhi spoke with telling the truth?” Came another female’s voice, steady but just as excited. The blue-eyed girl ran a hand through her coppery brown hair and sighed again, her attention shifting to the compressed space on the bed, as if someone had spoken to her. Her jaw tightened and she drew her legs up in a dismal attempt to sit cross-legged in her beaten old swivel chair.

“How should I know? I didn’t actually speak with it! I couldn’t even see the damned thing!!” She had managed to remove the anxious stutter, but had filled the vacancy by raising her voice to an almost paranoid level. When she took a massive breath to begin an even louder segment of dialogue, the girl on the other end of the phone interrupted her.

“LIZZY! Chill out, okay? I was just asking. If you keep freaking out like that I’m gonna start freaking out.” Silence for a moment, which the copper-haired girl used to glance questioningly at the impression that suddenly disappeared from the plain colored comforter of her bed. “We’re just going to have to take Mokuhi’s word for it. She couldn’t keep a secret to save her life anyway.”

Lizzy nodded, but then realized that the other girl would not be able to tell.

“Okay Morrigan.” She murmured. “I’ll calm down.”

“Good. Now, do you remember what Thomas told us to do?”


“You think that that ENTIRE incident was staged? I’m sorry, Mr. Scott, you’re an intelligent man, but you and I both know tha—“ Officer Harris was cut short when the pine-eyed educator silenced him with a look of fury that only someone who had dealt with petulant children their entire lives could manage.

“Did I ever say that I know it was staged? No.” Agnes’s voice was deathly quiet, causing Harris to sink back into his chair a bit. When he was sure that the young man was not so willing to interrupt him or hint at the possibility senility, he continued. “Yes, I am old, Officer Harris, but I am not senile or paranoid. I have dealt with a good deal of people in my lifetime and I know when there is something horribly wrong at work.”

Harris looked down at his hands. Choosing to, not for the first time during his visit, remain as silent as the grave, he let the principle continue.


Elizabeth nodded again, this time not really caring if Morrigan could not see. Next to her, a picture that she had kept only for decoration shifted slightly before rising up from the piece of furniture that it had rested on and began to travel across her fairly neat room. She paid it no mind.

“Delete the harvest-virus but never get rid of the disc and slick the hard drive every morning after use so it can’t be traced… I have the files it got for us. Two for you and two for me. I’m gonna clean my hard drive out in a few hours so that no one’ll know we hacked into the registry.” To confirm her statement, more to herself, she picked up a stack of CD cases that were extremely plain in appearance and clutched them to her chest, as if they were a life-line. A light chuckle came from Morrigan’s end of the phone.

“Good.” Her voice said with a smile in it’s tone. “See? No one’ll catch us. Now all we need to do is wait for the right time and then we can get to work. I’m sure confusing the shit out of the Superiority Complex Titans in Japan will be fun. It won’t be so bad.”

Lizzy smiled, no, smirked, as she set the CDs down and began to unlace her boots. The tension had left her shoulders.

“Yea, you’re right Morrigan. I guess I did panic a bit… I’ll try and stay calm from now on.”

“I don’t think that you can.”

“I said -try-, Morrigan. That doesn’t mean that I’m vowing that I’ll never freak out again.” Elizabeth groused at her new friend’s mock concern, tossing one boot aside and beginning to unlace the other. “Listen, it’s late and I still need to run to Dunkin’ Donuts before Mokuhi has a cow. I’ll give you the files at lunch tomorrow, okay?”


“It’s very late… If you still have questions come see me tomorrow morning before school hours begin.” His tone dismissed anything that the young officer might’ve said to continue the conversation as he now opted for massaging the area between his eyes instead of his temples. Harris put his uniform hat back on, making his wardrobe more complete. He gave a slight nod to the old faculty member as he rose and made his way to the door briskly. He obviously didn’t really have any desire to continue.

“Liam?” Mr. Scott suddenly inquired. The cop turned to look at the principle. The old man was still massaging the area between his snow-colored brows, his pine colored eyes closed.

“Yes, Mr. Scott, sir?”

“The year you graduated was a good year. I should have retired then.” The statement was sudden, but at the same time as dismissing as the one that had come not even a minute before. With nothing to say in response, Liam Harris left.


“Roger. See you then. AND DON’T BE LATE!”

“I won’t!!” Acutely aware that she’d hear a small chorus of cackles in response to her indignant outburst, both from the other end of the phone and from somewhere in the five feet radius around her, she hung up the phone, preferring instead to deal with the voice, the eyes and the demented grin that was always close behind her.

T~ B ~C
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