Chapter Text
Kira is the worst criminal the world has never known.
Ironically, he only kills criminals, or those who are criminals in his eyes, aka, people that try to stop him. He does kill actual criminals.
He acts like a vigilante, a beam of light in a cold and dark world. Emphasis on “acts like.”
Kira has remained anonymous, and his method of massacre is unknown. After tireless investigation, world-famous detective, L, pinpointed the suspects to nine people.
He then devised a more modern way of determining the culprit.
Some of these people are very close to him. Apparently, not close enough.
Everybody could be Kira, and nobody is safe from sin.
DIVINE JUDGEMENT
THE FOLLOWING PROGRAM IS INTENDED FOR A MATURE AUDIENCE.
THERE MAY BE CONTENTS OF:
GRAPHIC DEATH, BLOOD, GORE, AND VIOLENCE.
VIEWER DISCRETION IS HIGHLY ADVISED.
The first thing Light Yagami feels is cold. The second thing Light Yagami feels is pain. This is typical for somebody who's fallen on the floor in their sleep.
It takes a few seconds to come back to consciousness and remember that he's a person, but he does it.
“What the hell…?” he mutters, his body only half-awake. His drowsy eyes look around the room he’s in. Its grey walls are severely lacking in decorum and any kind of emotion other than total apathy. Right next to the wall behind him, there's an oversized shelf using a red blanket to disguise itself as a bed. The wall on his left has a rusty sink with a cloudy mirror. Light is certain that no aspect of this room has been washed in the last year. The only thing that isn't depressing to look at is a glowing slot machine in front of him.
He stands up and feels a very unfamiliar fabric on his skin. It's far from comfortable, and he knows by now that when clothes are uncomfortable, they're to be worn for very special occasions. One could argue that signing a contract while at gunpoint is a very special occasion, but that already happened.
“It’s what landed me here,” he thought.
Light turns to the mirror and examines his newest discovery: an astonishingly regal outfit. Every end of his coat is adorned with intricate gold patterns, his shoes are perfectly shined, and his pure white cravat (the neck ruffle thing) puffs out with confidence. Even better, the entire outfit is a deep, bloody red, and it just screams ‘power’. It fits Light Yagami perfectly.
He can't help himself from striking one or two poses in the mirror before remembering the decrepit shithole he’s currently in.
He doesn't walk, but slightly struts to the tiny flashing bulbs on the slot machine. For the most part, it was your average slot machine. However, the wheels alternate between the words ‘PRINCE’ and ‘LETHAL’, an illustration of a crown, and an illustration of a gun. Light could guess that the unique designs had to do with his formal wear.
The sign above the wheels reads
YOUR ROLE:
The sign above that reads
CONGRATS
WELCOME TO THE SHOW
Well, yippee skip.
He looks at the lever on the slot machine. Out of boredom, he pulls it. The wheels spin until everything blurs together and it looks like nothing was moving at all. They stop after a few seconds, because of course, it was moving. The first wheel lands on ‘LETHAL’, the second one lands on a gun, and the third lands on ‘PRINCE.’
“YOU WON ‘LETHAL PRINCE’!” an automated voice suddenly announces. The machine proceeds to spit out a shotgun.
“What do I need a weapon for?” Light wonders while picking it up anyway, but before he can wonder why his kidnappers would give him an advantage in the first place, the slot machine swings outward, revealing a secret passage.
“A secret door…” he thinks redundantly as he puts the gun in the back of his pants and hides it with his jacket. “What is this place?”
Despite his many questions, he cautiously walks into the darkness. Where else can he go but forward?
His walking leads him to a long red carpet and a big message on the wall.
GOOD LUCK
Light rolls his eyes. As if he ever relied on luck.