Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Annals of Fear II	By : DeathNoteFangirl Category: Death Note > Yaoi-Male/Male > Mello/Matt Views: 5803 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note and I do not make any money from these writings

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Matt paused at the corner of the track and chalet.   He was out of breath, despite the downward slope, and he tried to tell himself that that was because the wind had been fiercely blowing in his face.   He stopped to cough, with one hand against the chalet wall, but took the opportunity to also glance back along the way he had come.   He was being followed.   Hal was closer than he had imagined and she smiled in welcome.    "Mello sent me."

Matt nodded.   This was Mello being possessive, though, on second thought, that didn't add up.    He took the steps slowly, feeling every movement in his thighs and arse, then realised that Hal would notice that.   Matt fixed a stony expression to his features and sped up.   By the middle landing, he was ready to jog and did so up the second tier to the top.   His legs and lungs protested, but they could go to Hell. He was there now.   He unlocked the door and walked inside the computer hub.   Mello had sent Hal because the witch bottle was out of the tree and none of them should be alone.   Mello would want to be in the hall getting all of the information that he could.    That made more sense.   Hal was a reasonable choice to send after him.    Mello trusted her and Matt had once allowed her into their home.   Matt shrugged at his conclusions and stood there taking in the scenes from all of the monitors.

Hal closed the door behind her and strolled into the kitchenette.   She removed the guns, which she had taken from Mello and Fenian earlier on.   They were pushed in a pocket apiece.   Then she waited, trying not to stare at him.   Matt watched the images change through their sequence, but the house appeared undisturbed.   He had noticed that the EMF readings were fluctuating though, which meant that all wasn't as quiet as it seemed.   He found it remarkable that a simple jar, filled with urine and spiky things, could make such a difference, but apparently it had.   Matt took out a cigarette and lit it, noting, from the edge of his vision, the faint trace of disapproval that passed across Hal's features.    He also pondered over a shadow, that was half seen on the sixth image along the third row of the second selection of camera views; so mentally made a note to check that one more closely.   He took a step forward, to peer more closely at the readings from the heat sensors in the house.   The temperature had dropped dramatically, but the air outside had also cooled down now that the sun had gone down.   His hand reached out suddenly and paused the image sequencing.   He stared at the screen.   It was definitely a shadow.

"Isn't this like a demotion for you?"   Matt asked suddenly.   From the corner of his eye, he saw Hal jump.

"Pardon?"

"You started with Near. You've worked with Mello.   Now you're stuck watching me twiddle knobs."   Matt smirked, his gaze still fast on the image, as he remotely manipulated the camera along its axis.   "At this rate, you're going to end up hanging paintings in Linda's gallery."

Hal smiled sweetly at him.   "I didn't realise that your self-esteem was so low, Matt."

"I know I'm good."   Matt zoomed in, but the shadow had gone.   He zoomed back out, but it was still gone, then, as he watched, it returned again.    Just the tiniest strip of shade against the wall, but whatever was casting it was moving.   He pulled back and surveyed the surroundings.   There was a blind spot.   He moved back to the EMF. It was no good isolating the area, as the whole house was registering, just as it had on that last night.   The dial was creeping up towards maximum.   Matt had no doubt that it would reach it and hang there until they could solve what was causing it.    The heat sensors were more sporadic though.   Some dipped, then rose, as something cold moved along corridors and through rooms. "You realise that you've probably got ten minutes at best?"

Hal blinked, "Until what?"

"Mello finishes dredging their information out of them and turns up here."

"Great.   I'm starving. I'll order food when that happens."   She waited. "Or were you thinking of something else?"

Matt shrugged and flicked ash onto the floor.   He could push camera 23 to the extent of its right hand view, then zoom in, mirroring that with camera 24 on the left hand.   With any luck, he might be able to extract enough information to work out what was happening in the blind spot.   "I thought you might want to lecture me on the evils of masochism, while informing me that you're close to having me arrested for psychological warfare."

"What you do behind closed doors is your business, Matt."   Hal blithely replied, but he glimpsed the indecision in her gaze.   "I'm already once bitten, twice shy on that issue."    She evidently didn't think he was watching her, because she moved closer to the edge of the desk.   "It might be easier for you, if you just cuddled him once in a while."

Matt turned his head, facing her fully.   He could see courage behind that statement, which meant that Mello had said something to prompt it.   "Oh?"

"Sometimes, deep down, I see a scared, little boy hiding behind Mello's Chuck Norris exterior.   I think he hits out at you because..." She stopped, looking at him.    Matt could feel his own heartbeat pounding against his chest.   He knew that his whole demeanour was icy.   "I'm speaking out of turn."   Her hands flickered upwards in a gesture of surrender, then she walked away, back into the kitchenette. She filled up the kettle and took out some mugs, then set about making tea.   Matt stared at her turned back. His cigarette burned out between his fingers.   Eventually, Hal spoke without looking at him.   "As for the other matter, I have a dilemma.   This is the first time that Fenian has asked for help.   Not just of me, but of Watari.   I've been through the records.   He left on his 18th birthday and has only visited once since then.   That was for the initial constitution meeting.   He has not claimed a dime since.   He's not asked for a thing."   She glanced over her shoulder now and started slightly at his attention.   "So the first time ever that he asks for help, with a quite legitimate concern, what am I to do?   As representative of the whole organisation, how can I tell him no?"    Hal sighed and leaned against the counter, facing him.   "I know that this isn't going to make me popular, but will you please have a psychiatric evaluation?"   Hal waited, looking unusually nervous.   "So I can at least report that things are moving towards a solution. Otherwise, I think the order really will be given to apprehend you."

"Mello told you that he beat me up because I wouldn't give him a cuddle."   Matt stated.   It wasn't a question.   "He didn't say that there was sex involved."   Matt sneered.   "And you believed him?"   He took out his cigarettes and shook one between his lips.   His attention slipped from her. She was insignificant. Mello was just playing her for a cunt.   But Matt's palms were clammy beneath his long, leather gloves and a chill had settled in his spine.   He stared at the screen again, only partially seeing it, with his vision mostly inside.   Mello was talking about their relationship with this woman.   He lit his cigarette.

Hal commented, in the tones of one who knew that she'd said too much, but was going to carry on anyway, "He did say that sex was involved."    She took up the teaspoon, but didn't ask him how many sugars he took.   Instead, she just moved the sugar pot close to the mugs, obviously gearing up to let him add his own.   "I'm just trying to communicate that if you, I don't know, hugged and kissed him a bit more, then the violence might not be so," she trailed off, "violent."

Matt's focus shifted, as his consciousness spotted something already half seen.   A door had opened sometime between this run of the sequence and the last.   He could see precisely what was making the shadow now.   It was a rocking chair in one of the bedrooms, pitching on its rollers back and forth.    There was no-one sitting in it that he could see.   "¡Mierda!"   He whispered and called Mello on his 'phone.    As soon as his husband answered, Matt told him mildly, "It's started."

Mello didn't sound surprised, "What's happening, Matt?"

Matt narrowed his eyes.    It was Matt now, not Mail.   Fine.   Hal had hurried across from the kitchenette and was standing beside him, watching the screen.    "EMF and heat sensors going off the scale.   Cameras not picking up much, but they didn't last time.   We do have a rocking chair rocking itself though."

"Really?"   Mello sounded amused by that.   "I'll watch the recording in a bit.   Will the motion recorder pick that up?"

"Si."

"Good. I'll watch it in a bit.   Keep me informed."

Matt nodded, "Will do.   Are you running the known universe yet?"

"Eh?" Mello was moving about, causing fluctuations in the sound quality of the signal.   There was a short laugh, then, "No."

"No matter."   Matt told him, levelly.   "When you get down here, I'll console you with a hug."   He hung up, hearing Hal's intake of breath beside him.    Matt switched to his solitary console and isolated the camera feed with the chair.   It had stopped rocking so fast now, slowing with inertia, as if someone had just stood up from it and walked away.    He clipped the whole event and stashed it into a file.   All the time, half of his attention was on the mass of camera feeds looping on the main monitor.

Hal had finally finished making the tea.   She carried the mugs across and placed one in front of him.   "Was that wise?"

"Two sugars."   Matt replied.

Hal nodded and took his mug away.   She soon returned with it and put it down on the desk.   "Did you hear what I said earlier about the Fenian issue?"     Hal peered at him from a few feet away, half leaning on the desk.   Matt didn't answer her.   The question was beneath contempt.    Who gave a shit what Fenian thought or felt?    Matt took a drag on his cigarette.   The rocking chair was still now.   Matt calculated the distances between it and the windows, but dismissed immediately the idea that a draught could have moved it so much.   Possible seismic activity?    He moved to check the BGS website, though he doubted it.   There was no other evidence of an earthquake around that house.   Hal wasn't finished.   "Matt, you were the one who wanted Watari to be a more caring environment.   You set the ball rolling to help the children and the alumni alike.    It was your constitution that was the foundation for the one that we are so close to consolidating now."

Matt scanned through the data on the BGS website.   Nothing in the area. They were clear.   "Who's holding up the constitution now? I thought it was done."

"Luigi."

Matt couldn't help the withering look he cast at the screen.   "Grandstanding."

"Maybe, but so are you."   Hal swallowed.   Matt realised that the woman was extremely nervous.   It was interesting to see.   He didn't think Hal could be fazed by anything nor anyone.   "We are at a crossroads here.   Fenian has lodged an official complaint.   If it is not acted upon, it sets a precedent.   It tells the alumni loud and clear that there is one rule for the higher echelon and another for those at the bottom."

"Fenian's not at the bottom." Matt's mind threw up the last, and permanently frozen, Wammy's House ranking.   "Chrissie is the lowest ranking survivor.   Taking out those who got themselves killed, Fenian would now be sixth."

"If I do act upon it, then I predict that Mello is going to raise Holy Hell."

"Mello is good at that." Matt conceded.

"And so are you."   Hal countered with a smile.   Her tone remained very reasonable.   "Either way, it could destroy the constitution before it's had a chance to work.   All I'm asking is that you have a psychiatric evaluation and agree to answer the charg..." She stopped mid-word and amended it to, "complaint against you."

Matt was saved from answering by the arrival of Mello.    Hal straightened, bowing her head to hide her frustration.   She, therefore, missed the sharp glance, full of daggers and venom, which Mello threw into her direction.   Mello strode to Matt's side, barking out, "What are we...?"

Matt cut him off with a bear hug.    He affected a warmly supportive tone, "How did it go up there, anđeo?   Did they pick on you?"

Mello was not in the mood.   His arm snaked around Matt's back and pulled down the high, furred neck of his gilet.   Mello's fingers curled around the stainless steel collar.   Sheer brute force and the threat of being throttled brought Matt back and turned him to face the monitors again.   There was a dangerous edge to Mello's voice.   "Run me through what you are getting here."

"That rocking chair was rocking.   No seismic activity in the area and I can't see how air currents could have done it."   Matt felt Mello's finger start gently stroking the back of Matt's neck.   "I've also noticed that the door to the empty room is open, though I think we left it like that.   We didn't leave the attic door nor the roof door open though.   They're both wide open now.    That would contribute to the lowering of the temperature in the house and probably a certain amount of wind pressure too, but the angle is all wrong for moving that rocking chair."

"How tediously 'Woman in Black'."   Mello glared at the screen.   "Show it, Mail."   Matt tried to step forward, but Mello held onto his collar for a few seconds too long.   Then let him go.   Matt glanced at him, trying to read the mixed messages.   Mello was staring at the large screen, watching the sequenced camera feeds go by.   He spoke lightly, but there was a granite harshness underlying his words, "You're dismissed, Hal."

"Mello."   Hal began.

"If you've already retrieved my firearm, I will take it now. Then you may leave."

Matt pulled up the footage and they watched it in silence.    Hal hadn't moved.   Matt glanced at Mello.   "Do you want to see the open doors?"

"No. Show me what's happening down in that priest hole."    Mello took out the remaining two, broken squares of his chocolate bar and threw his head back to empty them into his mouth.   Straightening again, he cast a fiery glance at Hal. "You appear to be still here."

Hal didn't seem quite so intimidated anymore.   Matt wondered if this was her default stance under pressure, an icy, calm efficiency. "I'm amazed that you hadn't already reclaimed your firearm, Mello."

"It's not mine."   Mello replied.   "It's Matt's."

"Do you want me to order food for you, when I order some for myself?"

"No."

Hal nodded slowly, not taking her eyes off Mello. "Have I upset you?"

Matt had brought the priest hole cameras up, side by side, on the small screen.   It was as empty and scrubbed as it had been that afternoon.    Mello peered closely at the screen anyway.   Matt moved to isolate the EMF and heat sensor feeds from that room.   "Both sensors at maximum."

"Give me some audio."   Mello commanded.   Matt nodded and walked behind Mello.   During the brief instant that he was out of Mello's direct sight, Matt surreptitiously gestured for Hal to leave.   She grit her teeth, uttered a long sigh and headed for the door.   Matt reached the deck and activated sound for the priest hole.   Painful white noise filled the speakers at full blast.   "Mail! Fuck's sake!"   Matt turned the volume down, as Hal closed the door behind her.   Mello listened intently for a full minute.     "Do what you can to clean up that sound.   Find out what's causing it."    Mello stalked across the floor and opened wide the chalet door.   He stepped outside and hurried down the stairwell, then back up and along the concrete balcony.   He was soon back, closing the door behind him.   He crossed to the window now and leaned over the desk to peer outside.   Satisfied, Mello turned to his husband. "What did she say to you?"

"About?"

"To cause the sarcasm around hugging me."

Matt busied himself recording the white noise, so he could strip it down.   He had had time to think about this and, however annoying the source, it was an insight into Mello's mind right now.   It could be valuable, when his husband was being an arsehole.   "Last night, you asked me to cuddle you.   I apologise if it came across as sarcasm."

Mello stared.   "How fucking stupid do you think I am?"   He threw the crushed ball of silver foil across the room and left his gloved fist clenched afterward.   "You're lying."

Matt's heart leapt against his rip cage.   Mello was in a funny mood and sometimes it was best to remember that the man had been in the Mafia.   Matt ran through his options.   He could get down on his knees now and win through sheer submission; or he could confront him, as a man whose spouse had obviously been discussing their relationship with someone else.   Outside, the wind carried laughter and a high-pitched, Welsh voice.   It was probably Century and Siân coming down the hill.    Matt looked back at Mello.   There was a third option.   "Mihael, you're scaring the fucking shit out of me right now."

"What?" Mello jolted where he stood. "Why?"

"Because in the past 24 hours, you've lashed out with your fists and your tongue and..."

"You could have stopped that!" Mello countered, fiercely.   "Don't you lay this on me."

Matt nodded slowly, "Yes, I could have and I didn't."   He withstood Mello's eyes flashing with emotion. "Because I wanted it at the time. But now I'm hurting and you're in a nasty mood."   Matt pulled the goggles onto the top of his head and gazed across, unadorned, at his husband.   "Has it not occurred to you that I want the hug?"

Mello stood glaring, with his analysis of the situation running transparently across his features.   Then his shoulders sagged, as the tension left them.   Mello paced forward, his arms open and gathered Matt up into a tight embrace.   "I'm sorry, guapo."   There were kisses now, all over Matt's forehead and the side of his face.   "They just got me wound up and..." He paused. "In truth, I don't know whether you're playing me like a harp or if you really do..."

"Mello."   Matt began, but got no further before music was screaming through the speakers from an apparently empty house.   They both jumped.   "Wow! It never picked that up before!"

Mello blinked, "It's not the song that they were playing before."

"Dunno." Matt dragged his goggles back over his eyes with one hand. His other arm was still firmly around Mello's waist.   Matt checked, with a look, that this was recording.   It was.   "Bit indistinct."

"Sssh, I'm listening."   There were the sonorous bass notes, plucking out a heartbeat that seemed to reach deeper with each bar.   Something about it jarred the senses, rendering it not entirely comfortable to hear.    It was both of them; the bass guitar and the double bass almost in tandem, but one a quieter echo of the other.   Mello leaned closer to the speaker, straining for the sound.   Matt reached across and turned up the volume, but the static was still crackling over it.   There were the drums, heavy on the bass and keeping up a steady rat-a-tat on the hi-hat.   The backbeat wasn't holding.   It was as if bassist and drummer were underpinning two different songs.   The result should have been a flighty mess, but it wasn't.   It just felt desolate.   The electric guitar was subtle. The strings were tuned to each other, but not to the standard octave. It was disconcerting, especially as the guitarist appeared to switch randomly from rhythm to lead guitar and back again. It was difficult to see what was holding the melody together.   Maja's vocal sounded more like scaled screaming; her soprano soaring up and over, then crashing down to contra-alto. All of this while, on the screen, the priest hole looked innocently empty and so did the room above it.    "Mail," Mello whispered, "show me the parlour downstairs."

Matt nodded and scrolled through the camera feeds to find the room in which they had spent two nights. The furniture was all pushed back, but they had done that. The mattress still lay on the floor.   The ash was fluttering in the grate.   They watched it.   Matt made to move, so he could check his other data, but Mello held tightly onto him.   "I was going to..."

"No." Mello looked ill.   "Mail, I think we're listening to 'The Banshee'."

Matt felt the blood drain from his own face.   He felt the cold rush straight through his body to his feet.   He had never heard it. He had had it on his hard-drive for two months with a password protection on it.    He stared at the speaker, then at Mello.   "There's no actual lyrics."

Mello gripped his rosary in one hand, while the other crushed Matt against him.   "That's the report I had."   He made no attempt to switch off the audio, though his expression looked stricken.   Matt rushed to do so. The sudden silence was deafening.   "A weird song without lyrics, just a woman screaming."

"Who from?"

"My associates."    Even Mello's lips were white; his eyes skittered across the equipment like a spooked deer, before resting finally on Matt's face.   "I could be wrong."

"You're not."   Matt spoke, his mouth arid.   "But we know this shit.   We fight it."

Mello shook his head.   "It's in us. Like a virus on our psyche."   He had rarely seemed at such a loss.   "Shit, Mail, what do we do?"

"Erm."   Matt felt chilled to the core.   "You don't know?"

"I'm thinking! I'm thinking!"    Mello clutched at the back of Matt's gilet, his fist clenched in a rib of fur.   "Shit! Shit! Shit!"

Matt took a couple of deep breaths.   This was mind over matter.   They were cursing themselves.    Yet why did it feel like the world was closing in on them?    "Mihael, calm the fuck down."

Mello gave out a terrified whisper, "Mail! I can't remember the Gospodin Molitve!"

"The what?"   Matt stared at Mello.   He had seen the man panic before, but only once like this.    Mello was going insane!   Fear rode through Matt's sensibility.   He fought for that dead calm that had seen him through so many situations before.   It didn't come.   "Mello, please."

"Oče naš..." Mello began, but disbelief was stark in his expression. "What the fuck is next?"

"Stop thinking. Just say it. It's an engram."   Matt suggested, his heart pounding painfully.   "You're overthinking!"

Mello surveyed him with wild, frightened eyes, "Mail, we're fucked.    O Boga, we're fucked!"

Matt shook his head, though he felt sick.    "Is it a Catholic thing?"    He dived onto his laptop, half-toppling Mello in his zest to reach it.    "I'll look it up, I'll..."    Matt stared at the browser, but couldn't think what to search.   It was like thinking through treacle, his mind sluggish and missing obvious links.   But minimalised at the bottom of the screen was another window.   It was the Watari network and it was still open on the last page he had used.    There was the old English font, a single 'F' just waiting to be clicked to initiate a call.    Fenian was a Catholic.    Matt stared at it, in a dizzying mixture of horror and hope, but it was Mello who pressed the key.

It rang out for a long time.   Matt tried to rationalise this.   The signal was hitting a satellite and down to Watari.   It was rushing through the matrix to Fenian's call code and out into the ether.   Another satellite and, if Fenian didn't have his laptop open, it would be his 'phone.    Watari calling, maybe, or simply 'I'.    Just when Matt's knees, feeling turned to water beneath him, were about to give out in fear that he wouldn't answer, it happened.   The 'F' filled the screen and the wary Irish lilt could be made out through the electronic shielding.    "What?"

Mello's voice shook, "SOS.   Computer room. SOS."   Then, against all pride, he gasped out a sob, "Liam, please help us."

There was a stunned silence at the other end, then a softly spoken, "I'm on my way."
- 14
- 15
- 16
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Annals of Fear II