Chapter 3- "Ryuk"
#3 of Furry Death Note
The clock read 4:27am when the doorbell rang. Light sprang upright in bed, suddenly more aware of his surroundings than last night. The few cracks on the wall near the ceiling, the slight pitter patter of rain on the roof. And the smell of sweat that penetrated the air. Did I take a shower last night? Light asked himself. He didn't think so. Last night was very blurry. Light had something clutched to his chest.
The Death Note.
Another doorbell. Light shot out of bed and quickly scrambled around to find the perfect place to hide the Note. He settled for under his bed then crept downstairs. There were a million reasons the bell could be ringing this early in the morning. Did Father forget his keys? Maybe somebody is just lost. Ding-dong-ditch? That's still a thing, right?
The young cheetah slowly pushed open the front door to his apartment, crept down the spiral stairs to the bookstore towards the front. Outside in the rain were two police officers; red and blue flashing into the store, illuminating their expressions. Instead of the angered, hunting look that men in blue usually gave, the looks from these guys -- gals, Light noticed when he inched closer to the glass door -- they seemed sympathetic.
Light unlocked the front door then opened it. The first officer, a vixen with red fur, slowly walked up to Light when he shrunk back inside. "Light McAlister?" she asked calmly. "My name is Officer Deborah. This is my partner, Officer White." She gestured to the white wolf next to her. Neither of them made any move to grab Light and drag him out of the store.
White came up next to her partner. "We just wanted you to come with us-"
"Why? I didn't do anything," Light pleaded. His fingers shook in their grip on the door. He secretly grabbed ahold of the lock, ready to make a run for it. Guilt started to shred his chest into pieces.
"We know this," Deborah said. "But we wanted to come tell you something and we're afraid you might not like what you hear."
Oh. Light took a few deep breaths and opened the door all the way then stepped out. If he really is gone. They'll let me come back to get my stuff, right? "What's wrong?" he asked, acting like he had no clue. Light was never good at keeping a poker face, but his life -- and sanity -- required it.
"It's about your father," White said. Light knew that tone. It was the tone all police officers used whenever they had to deliver some bad news. And Light had a feeling he knew where this was going. So, he let the wolfess talk. "He was found at a collision near the Interstate where that bar, Ricky's Shots, is at."
"A trucker lost control of the wheel and plowed into the parking lot. Your father was the only casualty." She said it as if that would make it any better.
Light grabbed ahold of the doorframe, his head spiraling. This would have been the moment where Light would break down and the cops would have to comfort him, telling him everything will be okay. Instead, Light just nodded. The thud in his chest from being told bad news never came. He was thrilled; almost wanted to celebrate right then and there. But then they would ask too many questions, ones he didn't want to answer.
"Do I have to go with you?" he asked patiently.
White and Deborah looked at each other then back at Light. "No," Deborah said, her tail flickering to the side. "You don't. We talked to a relative of yours across town. She will come to pick you up in the morning."
Relative? Light had no idea what the vixen was talking about. Until a name came up from his subconscious. Natalie McAlister. His aunt. He forgot that she lived not too far away, just outside the border of the city.
"Are you going to be okay, Light?" Officer White asked.
Light looked at each woman in the eyes. Both had a look of concern etched on their facial features. Oh right, I'm supposed to be crying on the ground denying everything right now. What happened was he gave them both a courtesy nod and said, "I'll be fine. Thank you for telling me, officers."
Deborah patted him on the shoulder. Both canines walked back to their police car and drove off into the night. Light quickly shut and locked the door and climbed back upstairs.
As he trudged through his apartment, glancing at the television and recliner, the former of the two turned off. Light picked up the remote and flicked on the news. Sure enough, there was a picture of the accident. A large semi laid in the middle of a parking lot, with six or seven surrounding cars smashed, large shrapnel of metal were flung all over the lot.
The line of text that scrolled at the bottom of the screen read: "No new news on the accident. One casualty recorded. One injury reported. Thousands of dollars of damage. Driver of truck claimed to be blinded by bright flash which caused him to swerve."
All Light could think when he saw the accident was: I did this. I did this. I did this.
He flicked off the TV, ran into his room, buried himself under the covers. He felt the bulk of the Note under the mattress. Light reached between the mattress and box spring, pulled the Note out and held it close to him. The young cheetah had no clue what to think. This Note just changed my life. This Note killed two people today. He did not need any further convincing that the Note was real.
Light felt the huge responsibility that the Note offered like a weight on his heart and fuzz in his brain. He now had the ability to kill anybody in the world, if he had their face and name. Light had seen plenty of movies; he knows the clichés and how if someone else had immense power like this, they would go on an evil tirade.
But this wasn't a movie. Light had been tortured, bruised, kicked around, yelled at, and bullied his whole life by his own father. And now Father was dead. Never again would Nate McAlister lay a finger on Light. He was safe. It made him swell with joy.
For now, the young feline closed his eyes, trying to capture a few more moments of rest before the morning, when aunt Natalie would come to claim him. Tomorrow would be the beginning of a new era in Light's life. A chance to start his life anew.
One thought repeated in his subconscious, nagging at him until the moment he slipped into a deep dark sleep.
Why should I be the only one?
***
The cheetah slept sweet and sound. His arm hung over the side of the bed with the Note loosely clasped in his paw. A breeze came in through the door, one that tickled the cheetah's whiskers in his slumber. The Note fell to the ground, the front flipping open and the pages rifling in the wind. The breeze eventually settled on one of the black pages, one that the cheetah failed to read.
Rule 12: If someone uses the Note, a god of death usually appears in front of him/her within 39 days after he/she uses the Note.
***
7am on a Saturday. This was the time for sleeping in, relaxing on the perfect two-day break from school. But in Light McAlister's case, it meant getting up early to start moving out of your store to your Aunt Natalie's place on the edge of town.
The alarm clock buzzed loud enough to ring Light's ear drums. The young cheetah lazily reached out to shut off the alarm. The Note was still clutched to his chest. He was afraid to let it go or else he'd think that everything last night was all a dream. Light sat up to stretch and immediately hit his head on something solid. He winced and rubbed his forehead. He looked to see what it was.
Two feet above him was the ceiling.
Light looked down. Everything in the room was floating in the air. Books hovered around the room. His backpack was resting on the ceiling. His desk, clock, a few cards, and even his blanket was slowly moving in the air as if there was no gravity.
Light scrambled out of bed and backed against the door. The scariest thing was the large symbol on the wall. An upside-down star in a circle. Light tried to wipe it off, but wherever it came from, it was permanent. As he reached for the doorknob, the Death Note flew out of his hands directly in front of him, flipping through the pages until it settled on the last entry. Nathan McAlister- If exits the Ricky's Shots while intoxicated, Nathan dies in a wreck when a semi-truck crashes into the parking lot.
Light's paw found the knob and yanked open the door. For a second, his heart skipped two beats when he sees a person standing there. The cheetah yells and fell to the ground, scooting back to the wall. His bed was right above him. Please let the anti-gravity thing stay. The person, now that Light had a better look at him, looked like a snow leopard wearing all black. Black shirt, dark jeans with holes ripped in them, big black boots, black hair. What put Light off was the long, numerous number of spikes coming out of his back.
The stranger peered down at him with bright, sinister yellow eyes. "Are you going to cower like a baby kitten or should I come back later?" Light did not expect the voice that came from this figure. It was deep and a little slow, like someone trying to reel someone else in for a date.
Light crawled out from under his bed, legs and paws shaking. "Who... what...?"
"Who am I? What am I?" The leopard finished for him. Light only nodded. "I am a Shinigami. But you may call me Ryuk." The figure in black stepped into the room and shut the door.
Shinigami? The word rattled around Light's brain for a moment. He knew of the word, but could not put his finger on it. "A god of death?" Light asked. The figure -- Ryuk -- nodded. The Death Note floated in front of his face. Light grabbed it midair. "You were the one who game me this." It wasn't a question. Ryuk nodded again. Does this guy not like talking? "Why?"
"The last Keeper of the Note chose to give it up by hiding it in a tree stump for seven days," Ryuk explained. "Literally, IN the tree stump. She was one fun spirit, I'll give you that."
"Keeper? You mean other people have had this thing before?" Light asked. On one hand, it felt good knowing he wasn't the only one to use the Note to kill someone. But at the same time, what did the other person accomplish? How many users came before him? Ryuk did not answer. "So why give it to me of all people?" Light pressed.
The leopard shrugged. "I've never given it to a victim of domestic abuse. I'm surprised on how fast you've used it. Most Keepers of the past won't even look at it for the first 24-hours. But you were very quick to put not one name down, but two. And one of them was your own blood. Very interesting, indeed."
"What if I don't want to use it anymore?" Light asked. He knew that with power, people would eventually go mad. Light needed a backup plan in case that should happen to him.
Ryuk rolled his eyes as if the answer was obvious. "All you'd have to do is keep the Note away from you. At the seventh day, you'll lose ownership and I'll find somebody else to have it."
Light hugged the Note to his body. He needed time to decide whether to keep the Note, but he certainly did not want to give it away easily. What if somebody else had this power; one who could potentially use it only for great evil? If Light were to give up the Note, he wanted it to be to someone whom he'd knew would use it responsibly.
"Then it's settled," Ryuk said. Then with a little snarl, "This is going to be fun."
He snapped his fingers. Light slipped into the dark.