Tvqxeqlapcfr
Active member
It was odd, to say the least. Five hundred seventy-two deaths in seven days. Each one occurring exactly at or close to midnight. Heart attacks, falls, suicides, shootings, all kinds of gory crime scenes. But there was more. Each one was found holding a black rose or near a vase of black roses sprinkled in blood. At least two were found with notes near them. One, a woman named Sharon Calick, was found, gutted by a serial killer, with a note next to her, detailing the details of her actions leading up to her death. The other, what the press called the Congressional Down Fall, was a series of heart attacks in which 300 people, each Congressional seat holder and their body guards, died, one by one. There was a murder note next to a vase of thirteen roses, leading to the investigation that he was leading. The investigation of a murderer who called himself "Forte".
They all knew what was going to eventually happen. That man who called himself "L" would get involved, and the case would soon be over. But it seemed L was waiting; gathering information. He had not yet contacted any organizations. Just at that moment, the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Inspector! Thank God! Get down here, damn it! It's L!"
The inspector dropped the phone, got his briefcase, and ran down the steps to the boardroom. The inspector was a CIA agent. He had been working with the agency for ten years, and planned to work there for many more. He entered the room, and saw a static-filled screen with a calligraphic L on the screen.
"Inspector Lawliet Tailor... How nice of you to join us. Please, shut the door in your wake." The voice was obviously masked, as it always was when any agents worked with L.
"It appears that we are all here... I'm not going to beat around the bush. In the past seven days, there have been a total of five hundred and seventy-two murders. The files in front of you contain the details to the case. Feel free to read through them at your leisure, but they must not leave this room and must be incinerated when you are finished with them. Do you understand?"
"Yes, L. Do you have any leads on the murderer?"
"Yes. Based on his actions thus far, we believe that he is based out of the Upper East Side. After all, that was where the first relative murders took place. If not, he is often in that area."
"Anything else?"
"No."
Silence hung in the room. The great L, who had stumped the police so many times before, had only been able to tell them what they already knew. Either that, or he was withholding information from them.
"If that is all, I must return to my investigation. L, out."
"Ren?"
The shinigami walked through the halls of the privately-owned building. The entire fifty-story building was owned by a man whom the shinigami had been bound to the human world by; a man named Ren. The building was lined with black Plexiglas, and each window reflected the outside. On the roof, there was a large jet and a helicopter. The shinigami wondered if Ren had even been in most of the building's rooms, the building itself taking up an entire square block. It had pools, game rooms, computer rooms, labs, and secure vaults that, if forced open, incinerated everything that was inside them. Ren was what you could call "paranoid". Even the buildings terraces were protected.
The shinigami finally found Ren in one of the labs. He had been writing something in the death note, whispering to himself when the shinigami walked in.
"Ren?"
Ren turned, and looked at the shinigami. "What?"
"How long... have you been here?"
"Long enough. Let's go." Ren took the note book, and put it into a secret pocket which he had specially tailored into his coat for that exact purpose.
"Who's next?" he asked the shinigami with a smirk.
Yes, I finally got around to it... Meh.
They all knew what was going to eventually happen. That man who called himself "L" would get involved, and the case would soon be over. But it seemed L was waiting; gathering information. He had not yet contacted any organizations. Just at that moment, the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Inspector! Thank God! Get down here, damn it! It's L!"
The inspector dropped the phone, got his briefcase, and ran down the steps to the boardroom. The inspector was a CIA agent. He had been working with the agency for ten years, and planned to work there for many more. He entered the room, and saw a static-filled screen with a calligraphic L on the screen.
"Inspector Lawliet Tailor... How nice of you to join us. Please, shut the door in your wake." The voice was obviously masked, as it always was when any agents worked with L.
"It appears that we are all here... I'm not going to beat around the bush. In the past seven days, there have been a total of five hundred and seventy-two murders. The files in front of you contain the details to the case. Feel free to read through them at your leisure, but they must not leave this room and must be incinerated when you are finished with them. Do you understand?"
"Yes, L. Do you have any leads on the murderer?"
"Yes. Based on his actions thus far, we believe that he is based out of the Upper East Side. After all, that was where the first relative murders took place. If not, he is often in that area."
"Anything else?"
"No."
Silence hung in the room. The great L, who had stumped the police so many times before, had only been able to tell them what they already knew. Either that, or he was withholding information from them.
"If that is all, I must return to my investigation. L, out."
_______________________
"Ren?"
The shinigami walked through the halls of the privately-owned building. The entire fifty-story building was owned by a man whom the shinigami had been bound to the human world by; a man named Ren. The building was lined with black Plexiglas, and each window reflected the outside. On the roof, there was a large jet and a helicopter. The shinigami wondered if Ren had even been in most of the building's rooms, the building itself taking up an entire square block. It had pools, game rooms, computer rooms, labs, and secure vaults that, if forced open, incinerated everything that was inside them. Ren was what you could call "paranoid". Even the buildings terraces were protected.
The shinigami finally found Ren in one of the labs. He had been writing something in the death note, whispering to himself when the shinigami walked in.
"Ren?"
Ren turned, and looked at the shinigami. "What?"
"How long... have you been here?"
"Long enough. Let's go." Ren took the note book, and put it into a secret pocket which he had specially tailored into his coat for that exact purpose.
"Who's next?" he asked the shinigami with a smirk.
_______________________
Yes, I finally got around to it... Meh.
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