Death Note FanFiction

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Fan fiction-Death Note-Italics are thoughts I do not own Death Note! Prologue (Wammy’s House) “What’s your name?” The kindly looking old man, Wammy, asked. My truthful response is simple. “I don’t have one.” My monotonous voice soft. Wammy furrowed his brow, and rubbed his chin. “Would you like one?” He smiled. I knew that he knew how I would answer. “Yes. I would like a name.” My voice is slightly more energetic but still monotonous. I heard a sound by the door. I turned and saw a boy with dark bags under his eyes, and messy black hair standing there. I turned around, but kept this boy in my peripheral vision, and spoke to Wammy. “Call me…H.” Years later... I watched my computer in satisfaction. Gina Nelson, a notorious female serial killer, had been caught. My burner cell phone rang. I hate having one, but it was necessary sometimes. Probably a call from the Director of the FBI. I answered it, and I was right. “Yes, Director?” I was bored now. I had solved the case, (They were lost before.) and the criminal had been apprehended. “I just want to congratulate you on a job well done. Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” That was it, the exchange was over. I hung up, and threw the cell phone somewhere, not caring where. I was incredibly hungry, (like I always am) so I put on shoes, grabbed some money, and walked out the door of my small, rented, nondescript apartment. I was headed towards a small market I knew, owned by a family. It has the best produce I’ve ever bought. The strawberries in particular were ripe, juicy, sweet and succulent. I love food, and I was on my way to by some. The door was open, and I had one foot out the door when my burner cell phone rang. Briiing! Briing! I was going to ignore it, but when I heard the ... ... middle of paper ... ...o way to trace a cell phone when it’s tuned off correct?” I opened the photo on my computer and accessed (cough- hacked-cough) the camera systems in Tokyo. Then I input her photo into the facial recognition software I had on my computer. “Where did she live in Tokyo?” I ask Watari , the noises of my typing filled the room. “573 Guré Avenue.” Watari responds dutifully. “What are you going to do?” Matsuda asked, wringing his hands nervously. “I am running Naomi Misora’s face through facial recognition and using security footage from yesterday to trace her whereabouts. It might take a while to sort through all the footage, but I should come up with something.” It had been two hours since I had activated the search algorithm into the facial recognition program. There was a pinging sound coming from my computer. Works Cited Death Note Lord Of the Rings

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