NPC Inbox: Fear

[lingeringfear]

[Fear's inbox message is simply a crackling of static, with vague thumps here and there. It goes on for about thirty seconds before cutting short, like the sound was snapped off.]

Comments

text.

[lingeringfear]

I generally have people give me their fear. Come to my temple, stand next to the altar, and relive a memory of when you were afraid. For that, I'll give you what you need.

text ~> action.

[torrefied]

They're not for me. They're for someone else.

[Matt got killed on account of getting mixed up with Mello, and now he's here. Going through the trouble of procuring cigarettes for him is the least Mello can do to atone for this particular failure.

There isn't much that frightens him, but the memory he chooses to call up once he's inside Fear's temple, standing at his altar is a fairly recent one, and it's one of the strongest that sticks out in his mind. The impulse to pull the hood of his jacket over his head and hide underneath it is strong - irrational, he thinks, trying to brush it aside, but he is able to pinpoint exactly why he feels this way. It's a security measure, and if this is going to work, Mello knows he needs to strip away anything that will dampen the feeling of fear he is attempting to invoke for this trade.

He inhales a deep breath, closes his eyes, and remembers that night in November, in Los Angeles. Head bowed, gloved fingers gripping the edge of the altar, he remembers the sounds of Rod's men screaming as they died, their voices echoing throughout the warehouse. He remembers the sound of gunfire, the panic of knowing he'd been caught, that his plan wasn't perfect after all, failed, again, the racing of his heart as he ran to the control room to detonate the first wave of explosives. He remembers Soichiro Yagami approaching, taking off his helmet, speaking sternly to him while Mello laughed, thinking he had this situation still within his grasp.

He remembers the other man looking on him with those damned shinigami's eyes, spelling out and then speaking his name, his secret name, and he remembers feeling like his heart had already stopped, even though it was only for a moment. His name and his face, the two things needed to kill him with the Death Note Yagami held in his hands, scribbling down Mihael and holding the pen poised to finish with Keehl.

Mello's hands are shaking by the time he finishes remembering detonating the rest of the explosives, not knowing if he would survive the blast. But he did survive - burned, in pain, set back to square one, no resources, no strategy, just the will to survive and overcome propelling him onward to New York. He opens his eyes, takes a step back from the altar, and inhales a deep breath, willing his heartbeat to slow to its normal pace again.]

Was that sufficient?

[He doesn't know if Fear's listening, or even anywhere in the vicinity. But gods are supposed to know what goes on in their houses, if myths are to be believed, and it's too quiet. After what he's just made himself remember, maybe Mello's just speaking to hear the sound of his own voice.]

text

[lingeringfear]

It was. Thank you.

[Several moments later, Mello will find the cigarettes he requested, laying on the altar of Fear's temple. It's only fair, after all.]