A/N: So I've been sick (still am - 5 days and counting :/) and my motivation to write chapters for my other stories has been really really low. This idea has been with me for a while so I decided to do something with my time and plan it. There are 57 one-shots planned (rate of upload to be determined). Rated M for violence (especially for this chapter). There will be happy ones and sad ones, this one is pretty morbid - so a warning I suppose. Also will contain spoilers for Death Note: Another Note - The Los Angeles BB Murder Case (haven't read it? I recommend it!). I wasn't able to add it into the summary but as it said, this is a story of lots of one-shots - some relevant, some not - that would form a story of some sort if put in order. Enjoy! x

L is for... - 2. Lacerate

v. tear or deeply cut

In Pasadena, L.A., there was a condo of the number 404. It had three bedrooms and in one, a woman started gaining consciousness. Normally her flatmates would also be waking up, but they were out of town and at some work convention that had details she didn't bother remembering. Conveniently she stayed by herself, instead of living with someone else for a couple of days. She was a college student who didn't have a job but was working towards a science degree. One more year to go and her course would be finished. All of that didn't matter anymore, because this wasn't the first time she had woken up this day and it was only eight in the morning.

Her eyes fluttered open but she quickly shut them tight. Luckily she was on her stomach so her lapse in control went unnoticed. The events that happened a few hours earlier, when she first woke up, were still clear in her mind. His face, the bag and the arm were flickering through her mind like a slide show. The only way to stop the images would be to open her eyes, but she couldn't afford to do that, not yet. He could still be in here, waiting.

She wished to be drugged again. Keeping her breathing low as if she were still unconscious, her ears concentrated on trying to hear any sounds that were around her. For a few minutes there was just silence, no footsteps or breathing, no sign of anyone being in the room with her. Did he have his fun and leave? She didn't feel pain anywhere, only her mind was still fuzzy because of the drug he gave her. She was about to move when she heard it, the faint clicking of her thumb turn lock. He was here, in her room.

"I know you've woken up Dee." His statement was made true when she shivered as his fingers stroked her back. He made a strange croaky laugh at her reaction. "Kya ha ha ha ha." She had never heard anyone laugh like it before, it sounded unnatural and cruel.

He had touched her skin, the skin of her back. It was then she noticed her attire consisted of only her underwear. Where did her clothes go? The awareness of the cold air made her shivering continuous. Being on top of her blankets didn't help either. Surprised that neither of her limbs were tied to anything, she turned around to face him. The dark circles underneath his eyes showed lack of sleep, or maybe it was just make up, a mask to hide his real self. This person she had never gotten to know. He sat himself on the bed next to her, bringing his knees to his chest, chewing on a thumbnail. She moved to the other end of the bed, too scared to move off of it.

"Why aren't you screaming?" He looked over at her, his eyes briefly looking at a spot above her head, but she knew nothing was there.

"I don't know." Taking one large gulp of breath, she opened her mouth to release a scream.

It was short lived when the noise that came out was muffled. At first he covered her mouth with his hand, shaking his head and clicking his tongue disapprovingly before producing a long thick piece of white cloth. Replacing his hand, he wrapped it around her, tying it at the back tightly so that it cut into the corners of her lips. She never liked pain and even the small stinging she felt, had tears gathering in her eyes. He made a move to wipe some escaping droplets but she leaned backwards. He used the distraction to tie her ankles together with another piece of the cloth he had with him. Bringing her to a stand, he pulled until she was at the foot of the bed, her back facing it. Pushing on her shoulders she fell to her knees, eye-level with his groin. Her eyes widened considerably at the thought of what he was going to make her do.

"I only want to surpass L, I am no psychopath."

L? The name seemed familiar to her but she couldn't remember where she had heard it. She decided to forget about it and just be pleased he wasn't going to rape her. Maybe this was just some sick fantasy of his instead? He walked away and picked up an object, she hadn't noticed it lying on the ground. When realising what it was, she truly started screaming, trying to be heard, but any noise she made was still muffled. Fear immobilised her as he walked back over and placed the whip-like weapon with many barbed tips at the end, near her knees.

"You don't have long to live Dead Diamond. Your life span is slowly running out."

The sound of her real name leaving his lips shocked her. She had only ever given him her nickname. He turned her around and began tying each wrist to a separate bedpost at the end of the bed, with more cloth he seemed to pull out of thin air. She wasn't paying attention as her eyes found the straw voodoo doll, nailed to the wall facing her door. It was placed just above the low headboard, around waist height. The man, who was now taking care in tying up her hair, was a murderer. The killer from what HNN news was calling the Wara Ningyo Murders. Other media would say he was the culprit of the L.A. Serial Locked Room Killings.

Her back was fully exposed to him, with the exception of her bra strap, when he was finished. She heard him pick up the weapon, swinging it in the air a few times away from her. Every time the whip made a sound, she flinched. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was about to happen and she dreaded it. The pain was sudden and excruciating to begin with, only to get worse with each hit. She was screaming, pleading and crying but he wasn't listening, too intent on the job he was doing. Pulling at the bedposts, she tried to get out of the way but the whip-tips made use of her movement and just brought more pain. Is this what his other three victims felt like when he was doing ghastly things to them?

"I drugged them also." He explained during each swing of the whip, answering her silent question. "They were out cold when I killed them. I want you to be different." If she wasn't in so much pain, she would've rolled her eyes at the tone he used. "We will be dying together, in less than an hour. I want you to feel the pain that I am about to feel."

She whimpered and felt the barbed tips dig into the skin on her back, ripping at the flesh with each flick and then hanging loosely before he had another go. He must've practiced with the weapon a lot because the only area he hit was between the base of her neck and lower back. The blood flowed downwards, stinging the fresh wounds even more, dripping onto the back of her legs and staining her panties. Her attempts to get free from the restraints weaken her and she was breathing heavily. It made the blood pump through her body at a faster rate and leaving the broken skin just as quickly. She started feeling faint and dizzy, welcoming the last few hits so she could finally pass out with blood loss and pain. He stopped while panting at the exertion he was putting into each swing, knowing she was close to her limit.

She tried to scream at him again, thinking up of every insult in her vocabulary, but her throat burned and was sore. Tears were freely streaming down her checks, probably leaving tear mark stains. So badly she wanted to fall unconscious, or even just have him kill her. Anything would be better than the situation she was in now, with the murderer behind her. He had moved away from her, done with his torture. He was surprised at how long she had lasted, almost an hour. Time had meant nothing to her and the pain made it seem like an eternity had passed.

There was silence and it unnerved her, she didn't bother looking around and kept her forehead resting on the bed. Now that the whip had stopped wounding her, the intense pain subsided and there was just a very hurtful sting. She was scared of what was going to happen next, not really wanting to die. Maybe he had come to his senses? The screwing of a top sounded in one of the corners of the room behind her, the smell of petrol invading her nostril. Was there anything else in his bag that he still had to show her?

"It is my turn now. Goodbye."

What did he mean when he said it? Was he just going to leave her tied here? Liquid gurgled out of a bottle. Finally bringing up the courage to look she saw him drenching himself in the gasoline. Nope, she did not want to see this and turned to look at the straw doll. A clicking alerted her and for a brief second she thought he had unlocked the door, until she felt the heat. Every second passed slowly and she felt him move around her as the heat changed directions. He stopped at the corner furthest away from the door and her eyes flickered to his form, but she wished they hadn't.

His arms were flailing around and his eyes were staring at her. She knew he was experiencing immense pain. It was probably more painful than the wounds he inflicted on her. Looking around she saw puddles of gas and hoped that he would stay where he was and not burn down the room with her in it. A commotion was heard outside the room and a female shouting was out his name, banging on the door. How did she know he was here? She started screaming, trying to make the female aware there was another occupant in the room. A warning the lady gave them was not heeded and the gunshots that were fired burst the doorknob and lock off.

Her struggling stopped as the lady entered, covering her face to the heat. Hopes were dashed as she left the room, only to return with a fire extinguisher. The foam that left the nozzle covered everything and made her cry out. Although it was supposed to extinguish fire, it burned her cuts. She heard the talking of another woman, who left with the instructions to call all of the emergency departments. The lady that came was an FBI agent and she was thankful that it was now over.

Her binds were taken care of and she was moved to lie down on the bed, on her stomach. She refused the clothes offered, her back hurt too much and she didn't want to stain them with blood. When the white foam disappeared, she looked over to the man who tortured her. His whole body was charred and his clothes were burnt and almost missing. Red and black, it was all she could see. At first she thought he was dead, until he started speaking incoherently to the lady. The nightmare was over she could finally relax, but her eyes wouldn't close. Forcing them did nothing, so she contented herself with looking at the interaction between the FBI agent and the murderer.

"Rue Ryuzaki. I arrest you…"

As handcuffs were put on his wrists and a medical team entered the room she was able to smile. She was still in pain but she was alive. Dead Diamond did not die today as was predicted by Beyond Birthday. The FBI agent's actions saved her and increased her life span in the process. He recognised this as he saw her one last time before being carried out of the room on a stretcher. No words left his lips, which was probably because he was burnt. He would never forget this day because it signified L's victory.

A/N: "Rue Ryuzaki. I arrest you…" - direct quote (is not all of it) from Death Note: Another Note - The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases. All rights go to NISIOISIN and also original concept of Death Note belongs to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata.