Death Note: Parallels is a fanfiction which is currently being written by Destructivedisk. It takes place in an alternate timeline where L discovers the Death Note, rather than Light.
Chapter 1- Cake
Everyone's favorite deuratogonist, or, more fittingly for this story, protagonist, L Lawliet was sitting, no, perched in a chair. The room was almost entirely devoid of light, as was how he liked it. He was something of a philosopher, always sitting in a chair, thinking about whatever happened to cross his mind. As he took a small piece of crumbling cake and craned it up to his open mouth, he realized how little his supply of this supplement was getting to be. Well, he had plenty, but most of it just happened to not be in his hands. This would not suit him, and he quickly stepped down from his chair. Had he had a light switch, he would have then turned it on, but that hypothetical will be no further explored, as it was just that; hypothetical.
He found his way across the room with relative ease, as he knew the route to go from his chair to his door. Opening it up, he found the light to be glaring and annoying, although he dismissed it with the notion that it was but a momentary interference, and continued on his way to the refrigerator without bothering to close any curtains or do anything of the nature. He grasped the handle of it, before firmly pulling it towards his body. Inside, he found a satisfying ration of cake, before pulling out a sizable slice of it and, rather than placing it on a plate, simply held it in his hand. He transferred it up to his mouth, before taking a large bite of it, licking his lips, and then pulling it down. The quality of the slice was just on par, almost above it.
He rotated around, and began backtracking to his favorite room. The sun, although still irritating, was no longer quite as bright, and L's eyes had started adjusting. They would, however, not be given long enough to actually get used to it, and would be instead treated to the consistent darkness they usually received. With routine brings comfort.
That's when he saw it. It was a book of sorts; black cover, white, fancy letters. It was strange, really. His room was well guarded and virtually impenetrable. There was no way to get inside unnoticed, and getting it on the counter with such swiftness would be impossible. L certainly had not seen it when he entered the room, which means that it must have been situated there while he was taking out some cake, which clearly didn't make any sense. As he peered over it, he noticed two large, obnoxious words:
Chapter 2- Bugs
As would be expected from a curious creature like him, L flipped open the book. This was the first time he had touched it, and, as such, a clown-like creature who he would not yet notice was now visible to him. His name was Ryuk, and he was a Shinigami. Regardless, L began reading the front cover of the book, which began with, "The human whose name is written in this note shall die." And with this, L was rendered motionless.
The cake he was eating fell to the ground, and he staggered backwards. His eyes remained wide, his gaze pitiful, before he let out an elongated yell. He trembled terribly, and his lips quivered. What was this?
"Pleasure meeting you. I'm Ryuk." And that was the killer. He was down for the count, passing out within moments, although his eyes still did not shut.
Upon awaking, his eyes were unbearably dry, which he remedied by blinking, as would any normal person. He found himself questioning precisely why he was laying there, and why a perfectly good piece of cake was laying by his feet. Oh well, it was of no matter; he could pick it up and return to his room. As he righted himself and scooped up his cake, he once again saw the black book, and with it his memories came back to him. Some creepy clown guy named Ryuk and something about killing people. Oh yeah, that's right; it was with the book. Ouch.
He jumped back to his feet, his long fingers grasping the book. What was there to do with it? He wouldn't kill with it, as that would be unjust. It would be best to burn it.
He rotated around before realizing that he lacked a fireplace. He could certainly just rip it up, which is what he began doing.
"I wouldn't suggest that. It's pages are unlimited", stated Ryuk, to whom L raised his head at, his breathing heavy. "Ripping it up will do you no good. Burning it could work, but you'd light up yourself." Although this was a lie, Gods of Death had to ensure that owners of the Death Note used theirs. It was a rule. "Anyways, you know where I can find an apple or two? Your human apples are delicious. Got any in your freezer?"
"Wha-what are yo-you?", L stuttered, his voice shaky and weak. He backtracked slightly, but eventually came to having his back make contact with the window behind him.
"Oh, me? I'm a Shinigami, or the guy who gave you that book over there. Whatcha gonna use it for?" he asked casually, as he began to float in the sky a little bit.
He was a what? L had heard stories of such a thing, but they were just that; stories. Unreal. Fictional. Mythical. This was-this was beyond belief.
There was a window to the left of him. He could jump out of it and kill himself before the Shinigami could do it. But L was not insane, and he instead just ran for the door. He swiftly pushed it open, prior to sprinting down the hallway. Ryuk sighed, before grabbing the book and phasing through the halls and catching up with him with relative ease. He sighed, as he had anticipated that the world's greatest detective would be more interesting.
Yes, he had purposefully chosen the detective to be given the book. As he was so against crimes and such, and the Death Note corrupted by nature, he was looking forward to his transition from do-gooder to the world's greatest serial killer. But no, he had to be all against the supernatural and such. What was with these humans?
He was pacing along L, and he stated, "Ah, c'mon. You have to really hate someone out there. Wouldn't you just like to kill a person or two, make the world better for everyone?"
And that's when it hit L. There was one person out there who he truly, bitterly despised; Roger Nuvie. He hated children, and, when left in charge of the Wammy's House, he made the students miserable. He seemed to try and get away from them in order to feed his insect obsession, and left them all in a luminous room, suggesting that they "communicate" and "talk" to each other. L despised interaction.
He calmed down, slinking down against the wall, and turned his stare up to Ryuk. "All I have to do is write my name in here, and the person dies?"
"Yep. If you feel like it, you can even so much as write the cause of his death."
L flipped open the book, reading down the list of the rules. As long as it was possible to happen, it would happen; if not, the victim would simply die of a heart attack. Even better, suicide was a valid cause of death. He came to a clean page, and began writing.
Roger Ruvie was practicing his favorite past-time, which was staring at his bug collection. It was in a glass case, safe and secure, and he began to reach into the cage, only to have a feeling of overwhelming sadness wash over him. He realized how meaningless his life was, and that he wasn't going anywhere from there. He cracked the glass of the cage, before taking out a large shard of it. He then used it to make a large gash across his forehead, causing a torrent of blood and a glimpse of his brain. He crumpled to the floor, before collapsing and his blood leaking across the floor.
Bugs crawled out from the crack in his cage, and began swarming him, slowly ingesting his flesh.
Chapter 3: Thoughts
L is, above all else, a detective. He views the world from a skeptical and deductive view point, looking for both inconsistencies, contradictions, and possibilities; as such, he immediately looks for evidence that supports that any particular person would be the perpetrator of the crime. This process is made all the easier when he is already fully aware of who committed the crime, and he merely has to figure out how to support that any particular person would have done it.
At first, what the cops would suspect was relatively clear to him; suicide. That was because of the fact that Nuvie’s fingerprints would be the only fingerprints on the glass that he used to kill himself. However, as he began to further ponder the possibilities, all the while still in the hallway, he realized that there was one factor in the death that he had failed to previously account for; the bugs. Nuvie was fond of a large variety of different bugs, many of which were exotic and very, very hungry for something meaty, such as, per say, flesh. They would no doubt eat him. This would discount the possibility of it being suicide, as there would be no way for his skin to naturally deteriorate in such a short period of time, meaning that some deranged lunatic would have to had removed his skin from his body after death. Not suicide.
All of these thoughts occurred within mere seconds. He was then calmed by the fact that there would be no way to trace the death of Nuvie back to him, unless they were to somehow learn of the Death Note and trace it back to him…
Such irrational thought generally never made it past the formation process in L’s brain, and this bout of irrationality was no different. Regardless, this was of no matter to him. He could just go back to his room and have a little bit of cake to satiate his hunger for comfort…