Realization (L Lawliet)

Sixteen

One week later...

     Mello was content with his life, in fact, he had never been happier. Matt was also happy, now that he knew that L seemed to have lightened up a little. After all, their inboxes had been spammed by L sending them memes. Half of them were memes about memes.

     Mello was walking down the street, headed to the market to replenish his and Matt's stock of junk food. He was listening to some of L's rock bands through his earbuds, flinching at the unexpected bass drop on one of the songs. That would take some getting used to.

    It was one of those rare days in which the sun showed itself through the clouds. It was one of those rare days where everybody seemed to be a little happier, a little friendlier. The sun had that effect on England.

     Mello turned on a street to take a shortcut that would take about ten minutes off his trip. Even though people told him to stay off that street, nothing had happened to him so far, and he doubted that anything would happen.

     However, his good mood faded quickly as he walked down the run-down street. The air seemed to grow cold, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something was here. And it wasn't a good something.

    Mello turned around, but seeing nothing. He exhaled, feeling a little relieved, but not letting his guard down. After all, he had been warned that he was a target. He was young, smart, and relatively attractive. That was the formula for creeps all over the world.

    Before he could turn back around and focus on his way, he felt a gloved hand reach from behind and cover his mouth, muffling his instinctive scream.

     Mello acted entirely on instinct, trying to face his enemy, trying to punch him, but the enemy was at such an angle, Mello couldn't reach him.

     Mello began to feel light-headed, since he was unable to breathe. He saw black dots dancing in his vision as he slowly faded from consciousness.

      Mello's hearing was the first sense to come back to him. Then he could feel everything. And that was a horrible thing.

     He had the worst headache he remembered. It would seem to go away, but only to come back ten times worse.

     He felt cold, and he could feel something like a cushion underneath him.

    He groaned, finally forcing his eyes open.

    The first thing he saw was a wall covered with beige paint. He could tell the room he was in was dimly lit. He couldn't tell much more from his position, so he tried to roll over, expecting to be handcuffed, but he wasn't. Strange...

     He heard someone clear their voice.

    He turned, seeing a guy standing there. He couldn't tell his identity, since he was wearing a hood low on his face and sunglasses. But he could tell it was a guy, and most likely not a creep, just someone who needed Mello's help, but obviously Mello wouldn't agree to it.

     "Nice to see you've finally woken up. Nice to have oxygen again, right?" The guy said.

     Mello couldn't speak. He wanted to, he needed to, but he couldn't will himself to move his lips. He shivered, feeling cold air on his exposed skin...which seemed to be a lot more surface area than what he was originally wearing.

Mello looked at himself and realized that he was lying in a bed, covered by a white sheet. By the looks of it, that sheet was his only form of modesty. Okay, maybe that guy is a creep. His hand went to his neck, feeling nothing but skin. His jaw fell open, anger rising inside of him.