Archaeology (The Ology Series: Prequel)

15

((A.N.// Me: O.O Okay... this is... yeah... set in BB's past. I've done the past of L, Mello and Matt... but not BB. Only his murders. This is when he's a child... And... when he loses his dad. *sighs* Don't aw. You will see why I say that when you read this XDD

Question- Who fancies reading Near's past? I could come up with something for his parents... I've never really thought about it, but... I did say this was the Whammy boy's past. And I've done barely any Near stuff. So... yeah...

Oh oh oh thanks for the votes and comments! :D Honestly, I keep giggling XDD I really REALLY need to write your usernames down xDDDD

Mello: O.O I THOUGHT YOU SAID BB WAS SANE IN THE PAST!?

Me: *awkward laugh* Well you see...

Matt: YOU'RE CRAZY IZZY! O.O

Me: *innocent, sweet smile* I prefer the term 'awesome' :D XD ENJOY GUYS!!!!

NOTE- I actually can't remember how old I said BB was when he joined XD OH WELL XD

Warning- violence, probably cursing, dark themes, mentions of child abuse and drug addictions.

-I xx))

"Daddy..." The Victorian clock chimed 3 A.M. throughout the darkened house, bouncing off the non-plastered, empty walls. Only the chimes and the rugged breathing of a terrified man could be heard when the child's voice faded, until suddenly rapid footsteps carried through the hall. Wide blue eyes blinked through the dark blindly as the man ran from his room, fear pulsing from his posture and a scream of horror balanced on his tongue. The child spoke again, ringing out in the dark. "Daddy..."

"Go away! Leave me alone you demon!" The man bellowed over his shoulder, his pupils enlarged with drugs, exhilaration and the lack of light. Blindly he ran down the hallway and dragged his hand along the wall to give himself some resemblance of stability and control. Out of the room he ran from emerged a young boy, aged 5 or 6, with an innocent look on his face and bright crimson eyes following the retreating figure of his widowed father. His hair was jet black and uncared for, whilst his feet were mucky and bare. Malnourishment had made him thinner than a normal, loved child.

"Daddy that's not nice..." The boy cried out before a slow, murderous smile painted itself across his lips like blood. "I'm not a demon."

Stumbling, his father finally made it to the staircase. In his hurry he didn't realise. The man felt his balance leave him as gravity sunk its monstrous claws into his torso and yanked him forward, down the stairs step by step. The boy walked slowly to the stairs to watch the man he called his father fall, to watch as the man's neck cracked and fractured. The dark was no issue for his pleased red eyes. He could see clearly. The man hit the floor with a sickening thump, and the youngster grabbed the banister and made his way down. "Kristopher Birthday..."

A groan erupted from the man, too quiet for the boy to hear, which became a word. "N-No..."

The boy grabbed a vase from a table and his tone became nonchalant. "Drug addict who paid for his addiction by selling first his wife, then his son out to strangers..."

The man stopped moving, listening to his son with a creeping feeling of despair rising in his blood. Was this how his son felt all those times? Helpless? Betrayed? Alone? He tried to move, but pain twinged harshly through his body. Kristopher was trapped. The drugs wore off. He could feel every inch of pain, resembling that of his own boy's. He could feel the guilt come crashing down on him, making him immobile. Blood was matting his messy, untamed hazelnut brown hair. The young boy walked over to his father and held the vase over his head with a purely innocent smile on his face. "Do you want to know when you die, daddy?" His red eyes met his father's blue and his innocent smile became lethal. "I've seen your date since I was able to count, daddy."

"B-Beyond.." Kristopher choked out, looking up at his son with all the fear he could muster. He was slightly shaking, but could not pinpoint it to pain or the upcoming death. "I-I..."

"Night night daddy!" The boy giggled and with that, dropped the thick, china vase on his father's skull. When it only smashed and Beyond couldn't tell what damage had been done, he pouted. "Oh. That's no fun." Beyond Birthday smiled slightly and skipped upstairs, the grim reaper's breath contaminating the air. "Oh well. He'll die in two hours anyway."

And then...

Silence.

***

Kristopher lay there, dead, for two days.

The first day Beyond sat up in his room, trembling as the reek of death and slight decay crawled under his door and poisoned his air. The magnitude of what he had done wrapped around his neck like the fingers of a shinigami, attempting to choke him to death to be with his mother and father. He placed his head in his hands, feeling tears prick his eyes like needles. "Daddy's gone..." He whispered in horror and shock, "I... I killed daddy..."

Yes you did.

What a clever little boy you are.

"But I'm not clever..." Beyond whispered to the voice he could hear in his ear, "I'm all alone now."

What? No you're not. You have me, remember? The voice sounded like it had a smile, but it quickly became dark and unforgiving. Those eyes of yours should have been mine. Remember that as well, young Beyond. I should've written your name in my Death Note two years ago.

Beyond froze as he heard the threatening tone of the voice. "I..." The young boy whispered before tears filled his eyes. "Daddy... Mummy... alone... Daddy!" His body reacted at the sudden flare of stress, the trauma of attempting to kill his father and the last few years of torment causing a block to come up in front of the information to save him from the feelings. Dissociative amnesia had dug her teeth into him and would not let go until many years later, when it would not bother him.

The second day, Beyond skipped downstairs with a smile on his face. The cold laminated wood floor barely stung his toes. He came to a stop when he saw his father, before he proceeded to clean up the mess with a sharp smile. "Daddy, did you get drunk again?" Delicately he moved the pieces of broken china and placed them in a pile on the floor, ignoring the tiny cuts that started to litter his hands and the beads of blood that smeared on the china. "Daddy? Are you asleep...

...Daddy?"

***

He sat at their graves, cross legged in his smart clothes. With dismay he looked at the leather shoes that squeezed his feet uncomfortably, before he looked back at the gravestones.

Kristopher Julius Birthday.
Father, son, husband, brother, friend.
"Everything Dies. That is the law of life-the bitter unchangeable law.
-David Clement-Davies"

Elsa Quarter Birthday.
Mother, daughter, wife, friend.
"Life is but a dream for the dead.
-Gerard Way"

It was strange to him that underneath where he was sat there was the dead bodies of his parents. It was almost as if he was actually sat on their laps, waiting for a bedtime story. Waiting for them to tell him why mummy had been huge, then tiny again. Waiting. Always waiting. Elsa had been killed in a freak car crash- something that Beyond hadn't been witness to. He'd been waiting at home. His mummy had been there one day and gone the next. So had the next door neighbour's husband.

Gripping the fresh soil with his small hands, Beyond let out a small sigh. He didn't know what to do, or where he'd go. All he knew was that the sun was high in the pale sky, a burning fire of resilience, surrounded with dark clouds of terror and mystery. There was one pure white cloud, slowly escaping the mists of the unknown.

Footsteps occurred behind Beyond. He didn't turn around and kept his eyes on the words of his parent's graves. "Are you Beyond Birthday?" A calm, older man's voice asked from behind as the footsteps stopped, the gravel path underneath his feet crunching. Beyond furrowed his eyebrows.

"Yeah, what's it to you?"

"I'm Watari. I'm here to tell you about, and take you to, a little Orphanage in Winchester..."