Dawn of Shadows [a Death Note Fanfiction]

Prologue

It began with a storm. Why does it always seem to begin with a storm? Perhaps it appeals to a sense of the dramatic, with great booms of thunder and crackling, bright streaks of lightning that seem to reach down from heaven to touch the earth. Or maybe it was mere coincidence, although the mood of the weather did seem to complement the dark events that took place that night. Either way, it is with a storm that our tale begins, a storm both literal and figurative- for the shadows of death were dawning upon this world once more.

*. *. *. *. *.

Wings flaps, slow and steady, were almost impossible to hear, smothered as they were by the pounding of raindrops and the great booms of thunder that followed the streaks of lightning that seemed to tear the sky asunder. But these were not the wing flaps of a giant bird, or even a bat. No. Not that. This was the sound of a shinigami's wings beating as it flew through the night. And this shinigami had a mission- a mission that would have dire consequences for the people of this world. But the shinigami didn't care about consequences for these pitiful humans. It was bored, and it seemed that its only choice to relieve that boredom would be to travel to the human world. Now all that needed to be done was for it to find a suitable candidate to use the Death Note that it was now carrying. And to do that it needed to observe the humans for a while. No matter. Soon the shinigami would have its fun.

*. *. *. *. *.

Vivian Rochester lay quietly on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Depression, she supposed one would call what she was feeling, but she didn't care. She absentmindedly traced patterns on the texturized wall next to her with the tips of her slender fingers, not really knowing what she was trying to accomplish. Closing her eyes, she purposely slowed her breathing and focused on the pitter-patter of raindrops on the roof. All she was doing was putting off facing her problems, but she didn't care. These were the first moments of peace that she had had in weeks, and she was going to enjoy them. Just as long as she didn't fall asleep. If she fell asleep the dreams would come, and Vivian didn't know if she could handle her nighttime terrors at the moment.

Another bolt of lightning streaked through the sky, and at that moment the young woman's eyes shot open. Something... Something was wrong. Vivian had very strong natural instincts, and right now they were telling her that something was absolutely, terribly wrong. They were what had kept her from getting into too much trouble during her not-long-past teenage years. And somehow she knew that she would be drawn into this... Wrongness. It was inevitable, she thought dryly. Her instincts had never failed her before.

She sat up and swung her legs over the side of her bed, standing up and then making her way to her bedroom window. The young woman peered outside, although she could see no more than a few yards out with the rain pouring down as hard as it was. Taking a deep breath, she left the window. It was not time yet.

Now all she had to do was wait. It wouldn't be long, of that she was sure. Frowning slightly, she lay back down on her coverlet, not bothering to crawl underneath the blankets. Vivian didn't like waiting, but for now it looked as though she would have to.

The suspense was already building.

*. *. *. *. *.

The hooded figure walked into the bar, letting in a great gust of cold air as he opened the door, even though he quickly shut it behind him. Even though the hood was up it would be obvious to even the most casual observer that the person was male. The figure, although slender, was most definitely not that of a woman, and his build clearly gave the man's gender away.

He threw back the hood of his red jacket, revealing a handsome face that would make most women take a second look. The man looked to be in his mid-twenties, although he could have been younger. His longish, light brown hair was tousled and slightly damp from having been out in the rain, and his hazel eyes sparkled, revealing an unquestionable sense of mischief. Black plastic-framed glasses complemented the smirk that played across his lips as he walked over the the bar and grabbed a stool, spinning around on it once before facing the bartender. "The usual, mister," he said, grinning at the pudgy man on the other side of the counter.