Erase The Name

BY : NothingsXSorrow
Category: Death Note > General
Dragon prints: 848
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or its characters, nor do I profit from these writings

Paul screamed. A blood curdling scream that echoed off the walls of the make shift interrogation room. He was tied to a chair, two underlings helping to keep it upright as he struggled against the rope binds. At his feet a pair bloodied pliers lay discarded, two fingers laying a few inches away.

"I asked, do you still have the product?"

Mello stood in front of him, a knife in one hand, ear in the other, which he quickly tossed away. His blue eyes blazing with disgust he wiped the blade clean on a rag, gaze flickering to the nasty gashes that ran down Paul's face and chest.

"Next time I have to ask, I slice lower." he threatened, brow quirked as his gaze traveled to other man's crotch.

"Yes." He spat, blood bubbling from a split lip as he spoke.

Mello patted him on the head. "Good. Now tell me you have all of it."

Paul sobbed, chest heaving as he tried to speak. "Fuck. Fuck"

Mello pounced on him, blade pressed against his throat. "Do. You. Have. All. Of. It?"

Paul shook his head, eyes closing as he pleaded sloppily "Can pay for it. Please." His breath catches in his throat and then rattles out along with a dribble of spit mixed with blood.

The blond placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning down to whisper close to his still intact ear. "Okay, okay. Just tell me where the rest is."

The man nodded slowly, informing him in a low gasping voice where he had stashed it. Mello flipped out his phone, relaying the information. "Yeah, call me when its in your possession."

Returning the phone to his back pocket he motioned for the other two to leave them. As the heavy door slammed behind them, Mello shrugged off the leather jacket, tossing it over the back of a broken chair as he talked.

"Who did you sell to?"

"Gjergj. Gjergj Vata."

"The Albanian? Hmm, I thought he only dealt in the flesh trade. Interesting." Mello circled around him slowly, pausing to rest a hand on his shoulder.

"Personal usage or was he planning on spreading the goods?"

"F-f-fuck if I know. He bought two kilos."

"That is not personal usage, dick head." He growled, "Any thing else he said he was looking to dabble in?"

"No-no. He said shit - just the drugs."

Mello leaned over his shoulder, knife traveling to Paul's crotch as he spoke. "Are you lying?"

Paul sobbed, spit and blood trailing down his chin as struggled. "Swear that was all he wanted."

His phone rang, walking away he answered it. "Speak" He said curtly. He remained silent, never exchanging words with the caller, just listening. Hanging up, he smirked.

"Ever have pussy, Paul?" He asked, almost casually now as Mello leaned against the arm of the chair Paul was chained to. He smiled as the other just nodded his head, and flicked away some blood that was slowly working it's way down Paul's cheek.

"You ever see the piece of ass I get a go at? Skye, sweet little thing. Few years younger than I?" Another nod of his head.

"Ya know, I could be getting laid right now. Getting my rocks off in that tight sweet pussy of hers." he removed his gun from the back of pants, setting it on the table that had been pushed to one corner "But nooo, instead I have to be here. Interrogating a piece of shit fucker like you."

Mello leaned in close, "You ever wonder what it would be like to have that puny dick of yours buried in her? Her legs wrapped around your waist as she moans like some common harlot for more?"

Paul nodded again, slower this time, pausing in the action as he felt the tip of the knife against his stomach then drawing slowly upwards. "So you have fantasied about my whore? Tell me Paul, how long have you been running with us?"

"Two years...!" A strangled scream as the knife dug into his flesh, Mello leaned closer, pressing harder on the hilt.

"Long enough to know that I don't share, not even whores." His voice as close as a lovers. Cupping his hand behind Paul's head, he yanks his head backwards, hard. He shifts his grip on the blade and his face contorts into an ugly sneer of rage. He thrusts repeatedly into the side of the chest, blade grating against ribs, blood soaking them both. With a final thrust and twist of the blade, the body shudders one last time with frothy mixture of spit and blood spat into the blonds face with his last breath.

Skye spent the majority of afternoon and evening lounging on the couch reading, feet propped on a coffee table that had seen better days. She was still in Mello's private quarters, when he had returned late last night for his boots and jacket having asked her wait for him here. The room was sparse, but still functional and comfortable with its furnishings.

Mello's rank had assured that he was taken care of, the size of the room being large enough to fit not only a queen sized bed, single dresser and small refrigerator, but also a small beat up couch and coffee table. The private bathroom was an added bonus, and allowed the luxury of a quick warm shower after a sloppy fuck.

She looked up as the door banged open, Mello throwing his jacket down beside her as he slid the dead bolt in place, locking it. Dried blood was streaked in his hair, crimson smears along his face showed evidence of prior washing while flakes of it speckled his arms and neck.

"Here" he said, depositing a bottle of vodka and fishing out a small packet of white power and tossing it onto the table beside it before moving into the bathroom to clean up.

"Pay day?" She asked, dumping some of the contents of the packet onto the table, separating the powder into thin lines with a razor blade.

The creaking sound of pipes coming to life as the shower was turned on. After a quick shower he joined her on the floor in front of the table, towel wrapped around his waist. His eyes traveled the length of her body, admiring the fact that she was only dressed only in a pair of lace back panties and a red tank, the black lace trim of a matching bra peeking from the neck line.

"Thank you." He grinned, accepting the straw from her extended hand and bent over. After snorting a line he reclined back, hand fishing through the inner pocket of his jacket producing a baggie of assorted pills.

"Gonna be a good night, babe. Got a bonus and Rod gave me the weekend off." He winked, opening the baggie and dividing up the pills into piles next the coke. Taking a pale blue tablet and placing it on the tip of his tongue he leaned over, kissing her as he transferred the pill to her mouth, tongues tangling as he pushed her back, fingers slipping beneath the elastic of her panties.

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