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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
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"Wait in the car."   Hal commanded, as she rushed by after closing the gate behind them.   She had been perturbed since the Camaro had been spotted by the roadside halfway down the mountain.    She dashed past the yew tree and yelled.   "Mello!"   There was no reply.   The manor house sat, squat and dark, watching her.   "Matt!"    The Land Rover sat alone in the courtyard, untouched and unmoved since she had last been there.    A kind of susurrus whispered through the trees, like something ethereal and large travelling at speed towards her.   Hal turned around, certain that she would see something, but the woods settled at last into silence.     Hal stared, until headlights bore down upon her and she had to move out of the way.

The BMW slid into the space beside Fenian's Land Rover.   Deontic sat in the driver's seat, her hands not yet having left the steering wheel.    Her vision was filled with that dark kitchen window, seeing no candle in it.   She did not switch off the engine.   Eventually, she snapped into herself and opened the window.    "Any sign?"

"No."   Hal peered fretfully over the low stone wall, that separated the house from the chasm below.   She could still smell the ambulance crashed down there.   If she listened carefully, she could hear the stream.   All of her instincts were ringing, but she could see nothing to act upon nor react against.    She hurried back to Deontic.    "Maybe I should check the house."

"Don't," said Deontic, before she could stop herself.   She bit her lip and qualified it, "Maybe shout through the doorway."

Hal lingered, unsure of what to do and disliking that fact.   She had seen and heard enough about this place to be wary, but she couldn't shake the image of Mello locked in a basement somewhere, cowering under memories of Yugoslavia.    She cupped her hands to the glass of the kitchen window and peeped inside.   "Whoa! It looks like a twister went through there."

Deontic sighed and stepped out of the car.   She kept the engine ticking over though.   "They would have gone underneath, to check out what Fenian saw."   She shivered beneath her warm, winter coat. "I really hate this place."   Deontic spotted the motorbike tracks scuffing the entrance to the stables, so trotted over to check within.   It was only to show willing. She strongly suspected that the motorbike was up at the farmhouse, from where they had retrieved Matt's car.   "Mello's taken his...." There was movement in the depths of the stables and she shrieked.

"What?" Hal came running, just as an almighty scream filled the stables; the sound of it bouncing from the mountains and trees, echoing, it seemed, in the valley below.    Hal's blood ran cold. She stopped dead and stared.   It came again, animalistic yet human, in a banshee's howl.   "Behind me, Deontic!   Car!"   Hal's firearm was in her hand.   She darted between Deontic and the apparition.   The scream came for the third time, losing its power, and descending into anguished, keening mewls.    It was so dark, that they couldn't see what made it.    Deontic hadn't gone anywhere.   She remained, frozen behind Hal, eyes wide as they faced the creature.    "Deontic."   Hal maintained a low, authoritative tone.   "Get back into the car and lock the door."

Her genius charge nodded and scurried away.   Hal sought to keep both the shadows and her in her vision.   When Deontic draw level with the BMW, Hal slowly backed away.   The sounds were whimpering grunts, punctuated by screeching cries.   "Who's there?" She asked.   Stories of wild boar popped, unbidden, into her mind's eye.   It was a better image than the Gwrach-y-Rhibyn. She kept her finger on the trigger, watching and waiting.   Behind her, the BMW started to move, reversing from its spot, then swinging around to shed light upon the stable's doorway.   The scream came again, but light had not yet penetrated the stable's depths.   Deontic drove forward and suddenly Hal could see the source of all the noise.   "Fuck!"

Deontic was out of the car and scampering back, with her own pistol in her hand.   "What is it?"   She asked, maintaining that unnatural calm, in which they had all been tutored at Wammy's House.

"It's..." Hal began, but Deontic had already reached her and she saw for herself.    She squeaked. She stepped back to the BMW and stood before its bonnet, staring at the cobbles with her head bent.   Hal called out.   "Ok, we're all going to remain calm.   I am a police officer," It was sometimes easier to state that, in an emergency situation, rather than explain precisely what she was, "and we're all just fine."   She licked her lips.   "What's your name?"

The large man stared at her, his eyes too bright and his movements too erratic.   He looked like he'd faced down Hell. The horror of it sat stark upon his features.   He fell back upon his haunches, threw back his head and screamed again.   The sound of it went through them.    Hal remained calm, but Deontic looked shaken.   Her hand rose to cover her mouth; the other held the pistol stiff against her side, pointed at the floor.

Hal tried again.   "My name is Hal Lidner and I'm a police officer.   You are quite safe." She realised the incongruity of that statement, even as she was saying it.   But she couldn't bring herself to lower the gun.    If the man charged, then he had the bulk to potentially knock her flying.   Her priority was protecting Deontic.   "We can get help.   Do you want to tell me what's going on here?"

The man bunched his fists, but he just sat there, making moaning sounds that frankly didn't sound human.    It was Deontic who answered.   "He is one of the men who tried to rape me."

Hal blinked.   "Right."   Both were reaching conclusions, though Hal didn't doubt that Deontic went somewhat further.   Hal prompted her, "Not a coincidence?"

Deontic's head rose, her chin set firmly forward.   She turned 90 degrees and marched into the stables.    "Are you alone?" She demanded.     He saw her and ricocheted backwards, his knees up, curling as if he could push himself through the solid brick wall of the corner.   Deontic's finger trembled on the trigger, though her pistol was still pointed towards the flagstones.   She spoke coldly, "Where are the other three?"

He was terrified. He stared at her with the whites of his eyes showing all around his pupils.    Spittle fell from one side of his lips.   His whole body quivered.   He had no words, just that bestial groaning rising into a wail.   His head was twisted back, as far as it would go, while the rest of his body sought the sanctuary of his corner.    Hal stared, unsettled by her suspicion that Mello had somehow caused this.   "Deontic, he's not worth whatever you're thinking."   She paused, acknowledging that there was unlikely to be justice for the Wammy's House alumna, in the way that all other Western women could pursue.   "We need to take him in.    I'll do it, in the Land Rover."

"Oh?" Deontic asked, her tone laced with irony.   "And where are we taking him, Hal?"

Hal couldn't answer that.   She started to, but she couldn't.    Her mind passed inexorably into calling Near.   She had a satellite 'phone in the back of Deontic's car.   It might work.   She answered softly, "I don't know."    Near could take him.   He could throw him into a cell next door to Neuron, but that would be rendition and the man had rights.   However screwed up that made the system, the sniveling asshole had his rights.   "An asylum?   He looks like he's lost his mind."

"And say what?" Deontic countered, mildly. "We found this lunatic in a barn and we'd very much like you to pump him full of sedatives?"    She shook her head and mouthed, "Bullshit."   Then she stared again at her ruined assailant and spat out the words, "Have you seen him?    Blond hair, scar, probably eating chocolate."

   She surveyed him with raw, morbid curiosity. "What did he do to you?"

The man's response was to scream, long, loud and grating; his inner demons given voice and the volume to express themselves.   His fingernails were leaving minute bloodstains on the painted wall.    He clawed, too inarticulate to beg for mercy.   Hal sighed, "Dee, he's too far gone."

Deontic nodded.   "'As instinct on the flood for home,'" She scathingly intoned, "'From which all exiled landscapes come.'"   Then raised her gun.

"No!" Hal yelled, darting forward, surprising herself when she reached her in time and disarmed her way too easily.    "Not worth it, Deontic. Really not worth it."   She stood, surveying the young woman and not knowing what to tell her.   "He's scum."

Deontic pushed her glasses back up onto the bridge of her nose.    She sounded unscathed, asking matter-of-factly, "Where is the justice, for those who deliver justice?"     Then she stepped out, past Hal and through the open stable doorway.   "Mello knows. Mello always knew."   She turned at the threshold.   "I finally just got why he joined the Mafia."   She laughed, a mirthless sound. "Finally."

"Deontic."   Hal replied, feeling ineffective.   "I'll call Near.   He'll...."

"No."   Deontic shook her head.   "Leave Near out of this."   She stared into space.   "Poor Near."    Then disappeared out of view.

"Shit." said Hal, not quite knowing what to do.    In every regard, Deontic was her superior officer here.    "Ok, sir, I'm going to come towards you.   You are not under arrest. I mean you no harm."    Hal paced cautiously towards him.     The man howled, pummelling the wall with his fists.   "Everything is just hunky-dory.    I'm going to take you back to Aberystwyth."    She was nearly there, her hand snaking towards her concealed holster, upon which sat the handcuffs.   "Let us all remain calm here." He started head-butting the brickwork, knocking large wounds into his forehead.   Blood splattered, in sickening arrays, onto the white brickwork.     "Sir, if you could just...."   Then he fell, out cold in his corner, his face a bubbling mass of blood.    "Right."   Hal progressed as warily as before, but he'd knocked himself clean out.   "And finally my luck changes."   She had him hand-cuffed before he could wake.    Which left her with the further problem of how to man-handle him into the Land Rover.    She dashed out, calling, "Deontic!"

It took a couple of seconds for Deontic to appear.    She seemed distant, even when she walked up close. "There's another one. Dead. Over the wall."

"You are kidding me!" Hal gasped.

Deontic could have been commenting about the weather or a walk in the park, her tone was so breezy, "Mello said that he'd deal with it.   Mello did this."

"The dead man?   He's another one who...."

"Yes." Deontic gave another humourless laugh.   "One more ghost for this accursed place.   I wonder if the other two are indoors.   I couldn't find them."

Hal stared at her.    She breathed.   She spoke, decisively and firmly, "Jump-start Fenian's Land Rover and leave it running."   Hal's speech caught, as she considered the man inside the stables.   She wondered if she could drag him.   She wondered if he was awake yet.   The police should be called There had been a fatality.   She wondered if Mello had done it.   "Jeez."   Deontic was doing as she was told.   The light was leaving the stables with the car.   Was this even covered in the Constitution?   Hal stalked back into the pitch blackness of the stables.   "Sir, I am approaching you again.    I am going to escort you to my vehicle."    There was no response nor was there that mewling in the shadows.   "Great, you're still out cold."    She was out of ideas about how to move him.    There had always been people to deal with this side of things.    Hal hated the insidious feeling that she was preparing to cover up a crime.     She waited, in unfamiliar indecisiveness, until she heard a second motor running.   The Land Rover had sparked into life.    "Deontic!"   Hal stomped out, bellowing over the sound of the engines, "I'm calling Near."

"No."   Deontic jumped down from the Land Rover's driver's seat.   She held a blanket and a tow rope in her hand.   "You are not." She strode, determination emblazoning her eyes, past Hal.   "And while you are warden of Wammy's House, you will never call Near again, except when it concerns him as an alumnus of the institution.   Welcome into the madness."

Hal watched her step into the stables. "Shit."   She breathed.   It didn't feel like the time to remind Deontic that Hal was also Watari. She worked for Near, above and beyond the concerns of Wammy's House.    Hal followed her into the darkness, with her mind awash with injustices and brick walls.

Author's Note: This story is being discussed here: http://mrsjeevas.joharrington.co.uk/forum/viewforum.php?f=11
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Annals of Fear II