Chapter 1.1: L

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Hi everyone! I know I may have said somewhere that I was going to wait for 20 reads and 2 votes before updating this story, but frankly, it's taking too long and I'm anxious to share this story and get some feedback. So here we are! Part 1 of the first chapter. I think I might just wait for the 20 reads before updating, but the votes can wait until people actually start liking the story. ^__^

Please stick with me! It might be a bit hard to follow at first.

Kimmy (AKA DarthKemberli)

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 - CHAPTER 1.1: L -

My heart raced.

The elevator came to a smooth stop, and the doors sighed open. I followed my uncle out into the hall. It was richly-carpeted, evidence of the hotel's high-class status. I stepped gingerly. My uncle, looking not out of place in his neatly ironed suit, strode forward purposefully. Neither of us spoke, both of us immersed in our anticipating thoughts about the man we were about to meet.

L.

L, the enigmatic mind behind that illuminated computer screen. L, the razor-sharp reasoning that had revealed so much about Kira.

L, the world's greatest detective.

Finally, when the most trustworthy officers in the Japanese Police Force had been narrowed down to the six of us - Aizawa, Ukita, Matsuda, Mogi, my uncle, and myself - L had conceded to my uncle's request that he come join us in person. He had given us the name of the hotel he was staying at, and where we would meet. So here I was with my uncle, Yagami Souichirou, advancing through the hotel's expensive halls to beome the first persons in history to meet L face-to-face.

My uncle stopped in a small concierge between three halls.

"L's room is just down that hall," he told me in a lowered voice. "Now we wait for the others."

I nodded. L had requested that we come up to his room in pairs of two, leaving 30 minutes between each group arriving. So it would be another hour before we finally knocked on L's door.

Yagami-san took a seat in one of the plush chairs. I walked over to the window, which was simply a large pane of glass that replaced the wall. I looked out at the night sky. The stars twinkled over the Tokyo cityscape. I began thinking about Kira, and automatically I fell into that half-trance which accompanied my musings over a killer's psyche. As always, I found myself exploring his thoughts, running through his actions. I tried to understand his motives. The entire world knew what his motives were, but trying to understand them...

That was much harder. And that was where I came in.

I had a gift for understanding a killer's intentions. Without fail, I could understand the motives underlying his reasons for murder, and with that information, the police could catch him. In every serious serial killer case that my uncle had presented me with, I had found the killer without fail.

What made me uncomfortable, however, was how I did it. First I would study the case files, looking at every picture and reading every detail, no matter how minute. Then I would shut off my contact with the real world and immerse myself into my mind. From there I would gather all the data I had absorbed from the case files, and construct an image of the killer's mind in my own. Using the killer's mindset, I would explore each murder, and the reasons for the murder would come to me like a light. It was almost psychic, how accurate it was, and it frightened me. I wondered, time and again, if my ability to understand a killer's mind was because I had the makings of a killer myself. Guilt filled me, and I cut off my train of thought.

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