Howling in unbelievable torment, a Chinese officer fell upon his sword, crying out about being unable to live without his beloved fiancé. Drenched in thick, crimson blood, an old revolutionary, gray and weary of the world, was hit by a speeding truck while crossing the street. A twenty year old scholar, bright and fighting for change in mainland China, died suddenly of a heart attack, clutching his chest tightly, and in the final throes of death, pointed feebly at the azure sky above him, whispering feverishly of the wrath of heaven.
Darkness. Consuming, obliterating, pervading darkness. The hazy gray tinge which settled over the landscape could be called light, one could suppose, but that almost seemed too generous for the realm of the Shinigami. Even the brightest areas of the cold, lifeless mire of bone and barren were most adequately characterized by the word darkness.
This realm had but one type of inhabitant; the kind that had no choice. In all shapes, and sizes, these monstrous incarnations of doom and gloom were known only as Shinigami. In the lore of the humans, (pitiful, trivial creatures who wasted their lives away, slaving in various menial tasks in the world below) these creatures were feared as gods of death. Indeed, this characterization was quite accurate. Shinigami were indeed masters over death. Yet, there was a hint of irony subtly woven across the bleak world of such powerful creatures, a light slap in the face as if to tease these immortal creatures and remind them of their few limitations.
The most pressing of these limitations being that they had a dreadfully low amount of hobbies to pass the time in their atrociously boring world.
Two Shinigami fiddled with bones along the gray plain of the realm, engaged in the favorite game of most gods of death; gambling. Compared to writing names in the notebooks (which, after a while, became quite the chore) and eating the poor fare they called food (which they didn’t need to survive), gambling was the only activity a Shinigami could count on to adequately pass the time. This, too, was a rather stale bit of fun, for the only thing they had to bet in the game of bones was more bones. Truly, in one word, dull. Horribly, unbearably dull.
The first Shinigami, a short, stout little mongrel with a bird’s exposed skull serving as his head and a tiny cloth poncho covering his body, threw down his set of bones confidently, his mouth gaping in what was probably the closest thing he could do to smiling. The second, however, looking very much like a large, bulbous toad, calmly laid down two of his own. The first barked in agitation, while the second merely nodded and picked up all of the bones which had been laid in his thick, slimy fingers. To say they had been playing by any sort of rules with any sort of objective in mind would have been inaccurate; they probably had both just decided it was time for the latter Shinigami to win.
Lying back and gazing up at the bleak, desolate sky, the skeletal god of death let loose a deep, melancholy sigh; he truly, from the fiber of his being, wished he could do something interesting. Anything to kill the boredom, really, would satisfy him. Anything except writing names in his notebook. That was hard work, writing the names of humans in the…
“…oi, did I ever tell you he lost his notebook again?”
The second Shinigami looked askance at the first; silence wasn’t often broken between Shinigami so soon after a loss as depressing as this one. He stared through enormous, yellow eyes, not blinking as he could not, and turned his head in puzzlement.
“What? You mean Ryuk?”
“Of course I mean Ryuk! Who else actually leaves this cursed place whenever he feels like it?!” The first snapped, infuriated at having to point out whom he was obviously talking about. The toad Shinigami merely shrugged his shoulders, juggling the bones in his hands and looking hard at them, as though they helped him ponder their strange acquaintance
“Hmm…so all of those strange deaths in the human world, the ones that no one here could remember causing…you mean he’s down there, playing with humans again?”
The skeletal Shinigami almost moved to strike his companion, were that not such a strenuous amount of work for him to do, before sighing once more and nodding accordingly. “What else would he be doing? You know, hell, we all know, that he’s had two Death Notes for the longest time. Even when he loses one of them, he manages to get his grubby claws on another one…”
Pausing, the first shinigami abruptly rose and beckoned with his talon-like fingers for the other to follow. His companion, intrigued by this minuscule diversion, began to waddle after him, and the two walked for sometime over the desolate landscape. Eventually, after several minutes of silent travel, the two came to a spot from which the Shinigami could overlook the human world; it was nothing all that fancy, just a bright, searing light pouring from a crack in the curtains of blackness below. The two stared down at what they could see in the world of the humans quietly, for a moment, taking minor note of life spans and names, the most important attributes of humans, of a few of the creatures. After a moment, the second decided that this observation was pointless if they weren’t going to be writing down names today. He looked towards the part of the earth where the strange deaths had been happening, and laughed a bit, remembering the last time Ryuk had gone to the human world.
“This isn’t going to bode well for the humans again, is it?”
The first skeletal shinigami cackled for a moment, understanding his meaning and receiving the same small bit of enjoyment from it, before shaking his head in affirmation. “No, no it won’t. I’m trying to remember how many of the insects died last time he went down to the humans.
Death Note: Retribution
Author's Note:Yep, I'm back; I had the itch to write, and I had to scratch it. I'm pretty rusty, so if it looks kind of rushed/messy/doesn't flow quite right, that's probably why. This is the new idea I've been running with over the last few days. Honestly, I was working on one large prologue, which is mostly complete, but decided for brevity's sake to split it into three parts. Not much goes on in this chapter; I just wanted to release something, so I took the intro and see if it garnered any interest. Next part I release will be more of the actual story. I'm just gonna write as I feel like it and release as I feel as well. If you read, please let me know what you think. If not, well, that's fine too. Either way, thanks for your time, and I hope you have a swell day/evening/night.
Mankind is but a plaything of the gods of death. The only thing more fearsome than death to a human is death caused by gods; gods, unstoppable forces from above, who toy with humans as play things. For gods, it is known, man cannot hope to touch.
Darkness. Consuming, obliterating, pervading darkness. The hazy gray tinge which settled over the landscape could be called light, one could suppose, but that almost seemed too generous for the realm of the Shinigami. Even the brightest areas of the cold, lifeless mire of bone and barren were most adequately characterized by the word darkness.
This realm had but one type of inhabitant; the kind that had no choice. In all shapes, and sizes, these monstrous incarnations of doom and gloom were known only as Shinigami. In the lore of the humans, (pitiful, trivial creatures who wasted their lives away, slaving in various menial tasks in the world below) these creatures were feared as gods of death. Indeed, this characterization was quite accurate. Shinigami were indeed masters over death. Yet, there was a hint of irony subtly woven across the bleak world of such powerful creatures, a light slap in the face as if to tease these immortal creatures and remind them of their few limitations.
The most pressing of these limitations being that they had a dreadfully low amount of hobbies to pass the time in their atrociously boring world.
Two Shinigami fiddled with bones along the gray plain of the realm, engaged in the favorite game of most gods of death; gambling. Compared to writing names in the notebooks (which, after a while, became quite the chore) and eating the poor fare they called food (which they didn’t need to survive), gambling was the only activity a Shinigami could count on to adequately pass the time. This, too, was a rather stale bit of fun, for the only thing they had to bet in the game of bones was more bones. Truly, in one word, dull. Horribly, unbearably dull.
The first Shinigami, a short, stout little mongrel with a bird’s exposed skull serving as his head and a tiny cloth poncho covering his body, threw down his set of bones confidently, his mouth gaping in what was probably the closest thing he could do to smiling. The second, however, looking very much like a large, bulbous toad, calmly laid down two of his own. The first barked in agitation, while the second merely nodded and picked up all of the bones which had been laid in his thick, slimy fingers. To say they had been playing by any sort of rules with any sort of objective in mind would have been inaccurate; they probably had both just decided it was time for the latter Shinigami to win.
Lying back and gazing up at the bleak, desolate sky, the skeletal god of death let loose a deep, melancholy sigh; he truly, from the fiber of his being, wished he could do something interesting. Anything to kill the boredom, really, would satisfy him. Anything except writing names in his notebook. That was hard work, writing the names of humans in the…
“…oi, did I ever tell you he lost his notebook again?”
The second Shinigami looked askance at the first; silence wasn’t often broken between Shinigami so soon after a loss as depressing as this one. He stared through enormous, yellow eyes, not blinking as he could not, and turned his head in puzzlement.
“What? You mean Ryuk?”
“Of course I mean Ryuk! Who else actually leaves this cursed place whenever he feels like it?!” The first snapped, infuriated at having to point out whom he was obviously talking about. The toad Shinigami merely shrugged his shoulders, juggling the bones in his hands and looking hard at them, as though they helped him ponder their strange acquaintance
“Hmm…so all of those strange deaths in the human world, the ones that no one here could remember causing…you mean he’s down there, playing with humans again?”
The skeletal Shinigami almost moved to strike his companion, were that not such a strenuous amount of work for him to do, before sighing once more and nodding accordingly. “What else would he be doing? You know, hell, we all know, that he’s had two Death Notes for the longest time. Even when he loses one of them, he manages to get his grubby claws on another one…”
Pausing, the first shinigami abruptly rose and beckoned with his talon-like fingers for the other to follow. His companion, intrigued by this minuscule diversion, began to waddle after him, and the two walked for sometime over the desolate landscape. Eventually, after several minutes of silent travel, the two came to a spot from which the Shinigami could overlook the human world; it was nothing all that fancy, just a bright, searing light pouring from a crack in the curtains of blackness below. The two stared down at what they could see in the world of the humans quietly, for a moment, taking minor note of life spans and names, the most important attributes of humans, of a few of the creatures. After a moment, the second decided that this observation was pointless if they weren’t going to be writing down names today. He looked towards the part of the earth where the strange deaths had been happening, and laughed a bit, remembering the last time Ryuk had gone to the human world.
“This isn’t going to bode well for the humans again, is it?”
The first skeletal shinigami cackled for a moment, understanding his meaning and receiving the same small bit of enjoyment from it, before shaking his head in affirmation. “No, no it won’t. I’m trying to remember how many of the insects died last time he went down to the humans.
Ryuk so does love making mischief; I wonder how many humans will become corpses by the time he’s had his fun this time.”
Death Note: Retribution
Author's Note:Yep, I'm back; I had the itch to write, and I had to scratch it. I'm pretty rusty, so if it looks kind of rushed/messy/doesn't flow quite right, that's probably why. This is the new idea I've been running with over the last few days. Honestly, I was working on one large prologue, which is mostly complete, but decided for brevity's sake to split it into three parts. Not much goes on in this chapter; I just wanted to release something, so I took the intro and see if it garnered any interest. Next part I release will be more of the actual story. I'm just gonna write as I feel like it and release as I feel as well. If you read, please let me know what you think. If not, well, that's fine too. Either way, thanks for your time, and I hope you have a swell day/evening/night.
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