Worlds Apart (Death Note)

Thirteen - No Heaven, No Hell

THIRTEEN

No Heaven, No Hell

I awaken in a fright, perspiring much more than I should, with no more water in my possession. I sit up and run a hand over my face, as I get a hold of myself.

When I look around the room, I find the shinigami staring back at me, his back as if resting against one of the walls, his long legs stretched out before him. Since his wings are retracted -- as they spread out only when he needs them -- only a few of their feathers are currently visible, as they reach up from his back, from behind his shoulders, and I tell myself that I would most certainly never dare to pull on those.

I look to his eyes for information, and then remember that they will likely not supply it. I feel that his advertised withdrawn state will be most unnerving at the worst of times, when he is there, but in no way there for me. Yes, I do expect more bad times. How can I not, in this bleak, forbidding world?

After wakefulness recovers its complete grip on me, I am nevertheless left with a god of death in the room, and his presence leaves me momentarily off balance. However, since he is but one more odd aspect of my journey in this unusual world, in this strange land where humans do not behave as I am used to -- except for the caregivers at the hospital and the ones who are chasing after me -- I remind myself that, once one is down the rabbit hole, one cannot be shocked at the creatures that one meets there. Surprised yes, but not shocked. Not overwhelmed. Enough already.

“You had a nightmare, which means that you do have a conscience after all.”

Ryuk’s words annoy me. “You never even have to rationalize, when you kill,” I therefore take a stab.

“Never,” he, however, evenly replies. “It’s not always more interesting, when death note owners don’t have a conscience.”

“You mean your human entertainers.”

“Humans are very interesting. ‘Entertainment’ makes it sound easy, simple. And boring, actually.” Pause. “You’re still pale. Quite the dream, uh?”

I look away.

I indeed had a dark dream about using the death note, about killing all those men, about daring to put my life -- the life of one -- above so many others, due to instincts wishing for survival above all else. Such empty, inhuman instincts. As I am now forced to process this dream with all the powers of my awakened mind, I struggle to back away and soon manage to take a swipe at my conscience, which I believed I had firmly appeased, at least passed such tricks. I know, of course, that my nightmare was its attempt to recapture its absolute power over me in order that its influence guide my every move once again.

There’s no need: I won’t use the death note again, I repeat to myself, and to my conscience. I managed to get a hold of myself after I used it, but I know that if I were to use it again, it would be more difficult to do, not easier. It wouldn’t get easier. And I didn’t effortlessly get over what I did. Ryuk should know that. He heard. He saw.

“Can you spawn nightmares, in a sleeping human?” My lips interrupt my thoughts with. “If not, can you enter them? Either create them for your entertainment, or enter in order to mess with a human’s head, for fun?”

Silence meets my questions, and his eyes and face remind me that he does not have to answer any of my questions, that he has warned me that he would not.

“Well, can you?” I nevertheless repeat.

“There was a fictional-vampire craze on Earth, not long before the catastrophe hit, so I was asked that question before.”