Jane Grey

Chapter 58: 12/02/1554

12th of February 1554. Jane Grey was executed in the Tower of London at the age of eighteen. Here I was at the age of nineteen on the twenty-sixth of January in some random storehouse in Japan, but was I going to die?

Light had run off as best he could with a bullet wound and none of the people working against him had chased after him, we all knew that death would reach him before justice would. I did my best though, I pushed away all help from my siblings to treat my wounds and stumbled to the general direction that I saw him go. It was more difficult than I had imagined but I managed to follow the sounds of his pleads and begging for mercy. And there he was in all of his pathetic forms waiting for his inevitable end on the steps in the middle of nowhere - he wasn't going to die in a blaze of glory, and he certainly wasn't going to be martyred in the name of justice.

"I didn't want you to die alone. So I guess you'll have to settle for me as company," I cheekily smiled and sat beside him, putting his head in my lap and stroking his hair. My breathing was growing shallow as I bled more and more but I was no where near as bad as Light.
"I love you so much Jane..." he whispered, clutching at my skirt as if that was going to save him.
"I love you too Light. I only wish it didn't end up this way," his own breathing was getting shallower and in my conscience I could tell a shinigami was near. I had so much I wanted to say to him and yet there was so little time. I gently lifted his face to look at me, I kissed his forehead, "Perhaps in another life, my love..." and when I looked up the familiar face of Ryuk greeted me. Shrugging off my fluffy jacket, I made a makeshift pillow and moved my love's weak and dying body to lay and rest there, "He's all yours Ryuk..." I said sombrely. The shinigami nodded in acknowledgement and gestured me to the direction of my brother and sister at the other end.

Using the railing, I pulled myself up to my feet with one hand on the most prominent wound and continued to stagger over to them. Harper put her arms around me, consoling my sadness where tears couldn't compute, and Harrison stroked my hair. By this time I was growing increasingly dizzy and faint, the lack of blood beginning to get to me now.
"I guess this is where our story ends, Moreauxs," Spectre gave a sombre smile. The three of us looked at each other, bracing ourselves for death, "Don't worry kiddo, I'll make sure your work gets published."

He pulled out his own death note, it was dusty and the pages were yellow with age - just goes to show the extent of who'd be able to kill us. Spectre wrote down one name, then ran a hand through Harrison's curly mop of hair, "You've done so well little Harrison. You can rest now," and with that my brother took a seat against a wall, taking his last breath with a content smile on his face. My sister and I choked, but remained as composed as possible; this wasn't easy for Spectre and neither was it for us, yet we must remain strong for our people. I took in my brother's appearance one last time, his curly brown hair falling over his face like a perm, the scars and cuts all over his face overshadowing the freckles that dusted his nose. Those ochre eyes that would never open again. Those lips that won't ever tease me again...

Spectre wrote another name and then twirled a strand of Harper's hair to which she choked back a sob. "You've had a painful life, dear Lower Lords. Go join your love in peace," she sat beside Harrison, resting her head on his shoulder, and eventually her whole body relaxed in ease and no more signs of life would show. Those curly ringlets wouldn't bounce anymore as she walked. That lip ring was to simply rust on her corpse and the copious amounts of tattoos on her body would never be admired again by another. I felt myself grow anxious.

Spectre wrote one more name, I was never allowed to see what was in the old note but I assumed it to be my own. His skeletal hand rested on my head, like patting a dog, and he smiled. So here comes the question, did I die? Perhaps. It is entirely possible that this was a story I made up in the hospital. Maybe I'm still in that cellar from a year and a half ago and there was no L or Watari to save me. Maybe there wasn't any shinigami.

But as I sit on the other side of my brother, head resting on his shoulder like Harper, I felt content with my life. I had committed many errors in this life and find it improbable to think that maybe I am free from sin. However, we didn't die in pain. Jane loved her boyfriend, her siblings. she was blessed with amazing coworkers...and yet my business isn't finished yet. But did Jane Moreaux, die by the hands of a shinigami? Or did she die of blood loss? I guess we'll never know.

But did I, Spectre the Shinigami, retell the story of my final and favourite family properly? Well, I deserted my kind in order to protect this family so I wouldn't say I was entirely inaccurate. I'll allow you to believe that Jane didn't die, that maybe she went on to find the love of her life and have children and grow an amazing career - but we all know she didn't go looking for love of children. She sought fulfilment by other means and if death was that mean? If she felt herself have finished her story and that it did not need anything else, then I'd gladly grant it.

Defendi Morte, my dear Moreaux's.