The Silent Place
folder
Death Note › Yaoi-Male/Male › Mello/Matt
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
13
Views:
1,470
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Death Note › Yaoi-Male/Male › Mello/Matt
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
13
Views:
1,470
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Death Note or make any money from writing this.
Chapter Three: Slum
AN: please dont hurt me for the length of this... heh.
Suggested Listening: Touching and Kissing by Cinema Bizzare
Chapter Three: Slum
~9 years and some odd months ago~
The blonde crushed the chocolate in his hands and glared menacingly at anyone and anything that passed him in the hallways. A year. Already one fucking year since he'd been there and he was still nothing more than their plaything, a whore, and not one step closer to finding Matt.
His glare deepened at the obvious leers from the men he passed. Lecherous fuckers....
The looks they gave him made his skin crawl and his stomach churn uneasily. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to sit and eat an entire meal without being sick. It didn't help that they found it amusing to serve foods that held liking to a certain part of the male anatomy.
The wrapper in his hand crinkled again as his fist was pulled even tighter.
His steps quickened until he heard voices speaking slightly raised inside of a not quite closed doorway. He glanced down each end of the hallway and saw no one; he pressed close to the door and was able to just make out what was being said.
"Why do you feel the need to keep him in his current position, he's done more than enough to rise in the ranks." the first voice belonged to the Don, a slightly cruel and aging man with a raspy voice.
"I will give you that he's smart, and could probably rise far. But maybe that's the problem. Give him some slack and he'll take over. I say you keep him around the same position he's at. He's smart, but not smart enough to realize that you won't let him go any further." the second voice, the one that made Mello's blood boil, belong to Anderson Carlyle.
He was a generally unpleasant man with slicked back hair who walked in such a way that suggested he owned the place, that he was better and believed he carried more power than the Don himself.
Everyone hated him for one reason or another. But this... Mello couldn't forgive this.
He didn't wait to hear the rest of the conversation. He didn't care to hear it. His fingers curled around the rosary that swung from his neck as he walked. "That bastard!" he seethed quietly. Anderson was the reason he hadn't rose in the ranks at all.
Anderson was the reason most of the fucking mafia was still allowed to have their slimy disgusting hands all over him.
Anderson was the reason he wasn't getting any closer to his goals.
Anderson had to go.
Never before had such a cold rage filled Mello. Never before had he literally wanted to kill someone with his bare hands. That man was allowed to come and go as he pleased while Mello himself had to be escorted everywhere as though he were a criminal amidst the criminals.
Anderson was the reason he was woken up at least once a night for a quick fuck. And what was worse, Anderson was partially correct about something.
But it wasn't that he wasn't smart enough to notice, he'd been too naive. But never again. His fingers clenched the beads and the chocolate tighter still and he grit his teeth. From then on he would assume that any promises would be broken, that any reassurances were false.
He had never completely trusted the Don; he would have been an idiot not to. But the small amount of trust that had accumulated was shattered, and Mello knew that it would never rebuild. But he wasn't sorry. Not in the slightest.
He made his way to his room and locked the door behind him. He needed to plan.
He paced the room thrice over before an idea came to him. Recently there had been talk of a rat, a traitor, in their midst. Of leaks in their information network.
If he could somehow point them in Anderson's direction, make him out to be the rat...
That bastard would get what he deserved, and Mello would enjoy every second of it.
If anyone had seen Mello's grin at that moment, and the manic look in his eyes, they would have been terrified.
-End Slum-
AN: Oh... some of Mello mafia past is revealed. I bet everyone has been dying for more details since WSF, right? Well I have more little snippets planned for the fic, so you may just get to find out some interesting things.....
Question..... does anyone feel even remotely sorry for Anderson?
Suggested Listening: Touching and Kissing by Cinema Bizzare
Chapter Three: Slum
~9 years and some odd months ago~
The blonde crushed the chocolate in his hands and glared menacingly at anyone and anything that passed him in the hallways. A year. Already one fucking year since he'd been there and he was still nothing more than their plaything, a whore, and not one step closer to finding Matt.
His glare deepened at the obvious leers from the men he passed. Lecherous fuckers....
The looks they gave him made his skin crawl and his stomach churn uneasily. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to sit and eat an entire meal without being sick. It didn't help that they found it amusing to serve foods that held liking to a certain part of the male anatomy.
The wrapper in his hand crinkled again as his fist was pulled even tighter.
His steps quickened until he heard voices speaking slightly raised inside of a not quite closed doorway. He glanced down each end of the hallway and saw no one; he pressed close to the door and was able to just make out what was being said.
"Why do you feel the need to keep him in his current position, he's done more than enough to rise in the ranks." the first voice belonged to the Don, a slightly cruel and aging man with a raspy voice.
"I will give you that he's smart, and could probably rise far. But maybe that's the problem. Give him some slack and he'll take over. I say you keep him around the same position he's at. He's smart, but not smart enough to realize that you won't let him go any further." the second voice, the one that made Mello's blood boil, belong to Anderson Carlyle.
He was a generally unpleasant man with slicked back hair who walked in such a way that suggested he owned the place, that he was better and believed he carried more power than the Don himself.
Everyone hated him for one reason or another. But this... Mello couldn't forgive this.
He didn't wait to hear the rest of the conversation. He didn't care to hear it. His fingers curled around the rosary that swung from his neck as he walked. "That bastard!" he seethed quietly. Anderson was the reason he hadn't rose in the ranks at all.
Anderson was the reason most of the fucking mafia was still allowed to have their slimy disgusting hands all over him.
Anderson was the reason he wasn't getting any closer to his goals.
Anderson had to go.
Never before had such a cold rage filled Mello. Never before had he literally wanted to kill someone with his bare hands. That man was allowed to come and go as he pleased while Mello himself had to be escorted everywhere as though he were a criminal amidst the criminals.
Anderson was the reason he was woken up at least once a night for a quick fuck. And what was worse, Anderson was partially correct about something.
But it wasn't that he wasn't smart enough to notice, he'd been too naive. But never again. His fingers clenched the beads and the chocolate tighter still and he grit his teeth. From then on he would assume that any promises would be broken, that any reassurances were false.
He had never completely trusted the Don; he would have been an idiot not to. But the small amount of trust that had accumulated was shattered, and Mello knew that it would never rebuild. But he wasn't sorry. Not in the slightest.
He made his way to his room and locked the door behind him. He needed to plan.
He paced the room thrice over before an idea came to him. Recently there had been talk of a rat, a traitor, in their midst. Of leaks in their information network.
If he could somehow point them in Anderson's direction, make him out to be the rat...
That bastard would get what he deserved, and Mello would enjoy every second of it.
If anyone had seen Mello's grin at that moment, and the manic look in his eyes, they would have been terrified.
-End Slum-
AN: Oh... some of Mello mafia past is revealed. I bet everyone has been dying for more details since WSF, right? Well I have more little snippets planned for the fic, so you may just get to find out some interesting things.....
Question..... does anyone feel even remotely sorry for Anderson?