Haha, yeah... I started writing my own plot bunny, though admittedly quite a few things have been tweaked as ideas began occurring to me. In fact, pretty much the only things that have stayed the same are the facts that this will eventually be Light/L, and that Light is a vampire. Yeah... still kinda dark, classic vampire, again with things tweaked to suit the story. But you'll see more of that later on.

There will be several OCs in this story - they won't be hugely important for the most part, and there will be NO maincharacterxOC pairings, 'cause that tends to annoy me. Just thought I'd warn you now.

Death Note=not mine ;P

Prologue: Rebirth.

Black. A colour commonly associated with mourning, particularly in western culture; for that reason, Light had never really wanted black at his funeral. He had always thought it far too depressing; besides, he had joked, why should he like dark colours? They were his opposite, his nemesis! Such a bright boy, Soichiro thought sadly. He would have hated this, the sea of black that could drag you in and hold you in its jaws, like a rabid beast. Light would've much preferred creams and beiges.

Then again, what did it matter now? His only son was dead, and Soichiro was damn well going to mourn properly before finding and catching the bastard who had the gall to do this to another human being – to his son!

What a tragedy, the neighbours whispered. Their only son... he was so intelligent, handsome too. The good ones always die young. They didn't understand – how could they? His son had been murdered and left in some alleyway to rot.

The woman who had found him – Kuri, Soichiro thought her name was – was very understanding about the whole thing, and had even attended the funeral. A strange one, but then, Soichiro supposed that tripping over a dead body whilst on your way home was enough to send anyone round the bend. A tall woman of obvious European descent, her Japanese was flawless, and he couldn't fault her manners, no matter how unusual her appearance. Enormous white eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses; long hair dyed silver fell in sleek waves down her back; the various rune-like tattoos and gothic clothing all came together to form a very... unique image. Kuri wasn't the sort of woman that Soichiro would forget in a hurry.

Of course, when he had heard that his department would be investigating the murder, Soichiro had insisted that he be put on the team of investigators working on the case. The higher-ups thought that it would be inappropriate for someone with such a strong personal link to the victim to be working on the team, but Soichiro had insisted. He wanted to be the one to personally send the son of a bitch to prison for life; or preferably, the electric chair. Either way was fine with him. Damn it, he would shoot the man himself, given half a chance!

The crime scene had been classic detective-novel material – completely clean of all evidence besides the body itself. Cause of death: two parallel cuts on Light's throat. Too rough and messy to be a knife, yet still clean enough to rule out most other murder weapons that would usually be suspected in a case like this; Light had bled to death, yet very little blood had been found at the scene, suggesting the body had been moved. No witnesses had come forward, and Soichiro could think of plenty of people with a motive – after all, Light was the son of a police chief, and well on his way to becoming a great policeman himself. There were plenty of criminals who would benefit from his death.

The ceremony was closed casket, for which Soichiro was grateful. He didn't want his wife and daughter's last memories of Light to be of him lying pale and still, never to open his golden-brown eyes and laugh again. Soichiro had seen his son's body – despite the horrific rips in his throat, Light managed to look like a porcelain doll. Sculpted and beautiful, yet so, so cold. His eyes had been shut and his face was surprisingly peaceful, which suggested that he had not been conscious when he was killed (for which Soichiro was grateful) though no traces of any drug had been found in his system. Admittedly, there had been very little blood left to test, but if there had been any drugs in him, they would've shown up on the tests, right?

One by one, Light's family and friends stepped forward to pay their respects – Soichiro had known that Light was popular, but for so many to be here? It was unbelievable, particularly the number of sobbing girls. Soichiro knew that Light had grown into a handsome and charming young man, but this was bordering on ridiculous. Just how many admirers had his son gained in high school?

Even the girl, Kuri, laid a bunch of roses atop the coffin – some of them white, some of them black, all held together with a length of crimson ribbon. Soichiro supposed he could forgive the girl her choice – judging by the colour of her eyes, she was blind, so her colour choice was excusable, and besides, she couldn't have known that Light didn't like roses.

The rain was gentle; more of a light shower than anything else, and Soichiro could feel the droplets slowly saturating his hair. He sighed, glancing up at the dismal grey sky, a light breeze playing across his face and drying tears he didn't realise had fallen.

Soichiro accepted the many condolences given by friends and family as graciously as he knew how, a supporting hand on his wife's shoulder, an arm wrapped around Sayu's frail frame, holding her tight as she sobbed over her big brother. He knew that this was hard on them – just as hard as it was on him, if not harder. He hadn't been home often, his work hadn't allowed it, and though he loved his son more than anything, he hadn't been nearly as close to him as his wife and daughter had. He regretted that now.

Parents weren't supposed to outlive their children, it wasn't right. It went against nature. They were supposed to watch their children grow to be fine adults, not watch their coffin being lowered into the cold, hard ground.

Soichiro didn't notice that the funeral had ended. He didn't notice the swarms of people dressed from head-to-toe in black leaving the cemetery. He hardly even noticed his feet carrying him forwards until he reached the edge of the grave. Staring down into the pit, Soichiro fixed his eyes on the few flowers that rested atop the hardwood coffin.

"I will find the bastard who did this to you, Light, and I promise that I will bring them to justice, if it is the last thing I do," Soichiro vowed softly.

Inside the coffin, Light Yagami's lips twitched upwards into the faintest hint of a smile.

Wicked wasn't entirely sure why she had chosen Light Yagami – all she knew was that she had seen the perfect opportunity and had taken it before this fascinating human could slip away. An attractive boy, he carried himself with a grace and poise that Wicked had never before seen in a human; he was already more of a vampire than some vampires she knew.

It was more than just that, though. Wicked saw something in the child's eyes that showed promise that she hadn't seen for a long time. Cool and calculating, they surveyed the world around them in a way that was almost detached, and Wicked could practically smell the intelligence and contempt that rolled from him in waves. Still, beneath the calm exterior, Wicked could sense the burning passion that lingered just underneath the surface – this boy would throw himself into whatever he did, and he would excel at it, because that was the way humans like him acted.

Not to mention his smell – oh God, his smell. Pleasantly bitter, like pine needles, or good coffee, or... Wicked was slightly disappointed that even after all of these millennia, she couldn't come up with a better comparison, but there really was no way to describe the scent of the boy... Light Yagami, according to the blood-red characters hanging above his head. Wicked knew that this human was something different, something special. This human was interesting.

In Wicked's eyes, 'interesting' was one of the greatest compliments that could be given. After so many long years of life, she was bored almost constantly. To find something besides hunting and manipulating humans that captured her interest – well, that was rare.

Light had struggled bravely, and though his mortal strength was pitiful, Wicked admired the boy's determination. It was clear from the instant Wicked dragged him into a small alleyway nearby that the human didn't stand a hope in hell of winning, yet he fought anyway. The struggles hadn't ceased as she wrapped her arms around the young human, and Wicked decided that she liked this one – he was feisty, he had spirit.

The boy's pulse fluttered against Wicked's mouth, and she felt herself grin against the smooth skin. Light had frozen as soon as Wicked had touched her lips against Light's throat, and Wicked could almost see the thoughts flashing through the boy's mind. Violation, rape, helphelphelp. Yet the boy didn't scream, his pride didn't allow it, though Wicked could smell the fear that sang in his veins.

"Don't struggle, Light Yagami," Wicked warned, before she couldn't hold back any longer. She felt a barrier in her mind give way as conscious thought became primal instinct, and teeth that had been perfectly straight until a few seconds previous now sharpened into what could only be described as fangs. She could see the reflection of her eyes in Light's terrified gaze, and saw that they burned a startling red.

"How do you... ungh," Light trailed off as Wicked began to feed. That was normal for a human. Light's head fell back, allowing for easier access to his throat – that, too, was normal. What was not normal was the sudden rush of thoughts, memories and emotions that flooded through her with Light's blood. This mental bond was stronger than any Wicked had experienced before, and it only served to strengthen the knowledge that this boy was not the average human. His potential psychic abilities were astounding – the vampire could hardly believe her luck. This could be fun.

Light was almost certain that it was impossible for his luck to get any worse. After having such a terrible day at school – his classes seemed to get more tedious with each passing day – not to mention his social life – he had been asked on no less than three dates in the past two hours alone – and cram school – as though regular school wasn't torture enough. Quite honestly, Light wanted nothing more than to curl up and go to sleep with a nice hot water bottle. Instead, he was being dragged into a deserted alley by some crazed albino gothic chick.

Really, this was exactly what he needed; even in his thoughts he sounded sarcastic and cynical – bitter. At just seventeen, Light Yagami had all but given up on humanity as a whole. This incident was, so far, only serving to strengthen his beliefs.

Still, that didn't stop him from attempting to bring the bitch to within an inch of her life – the operative word being 'attempting'. This woman must have been an awful lot stronger than her (rather willowy) appearance suggested. Two slender arms wrapped around his torso, and Light struggled even harder – this wasn't looking good at all. Lips touched his neck with a surprising tenderness that did nothing whatsoever to reassure him. Just because this girl wasn't hurting him, it didn't mean that Light wanted this.

"Don't struggle, Light Yagami," a melodic voice breathed in his ear – the girl sounded like a flipping angel. That, however, wasn't what worried Light the most. How did this woman know his name? Had she been following him? No, Light was almost certain that he would've noticed if someone was following him. So, had the girl found his files? They were public enough, as Light damn well knew – he had hacked into police files enough times to know that it was almost as easy as checking his email.

"How do you... ungh," Light groaned as he felt something sharp puncture the skin of his neck, and some distant part of him was ashamed at the pathetic groan that seemed to be the only thing he was capable of saying. His head fell backwards as something that could only be described as pure pleasure flooded his system. This was wrong, so wrong, yet Light had never felt anything like this, and he wanted it to go on and on, he wished that this feeling could last forever because surely nothing could ever possibly compare...

Then it was over. The last remnants of the unbelievable pleasure ebbed slowly from Light's veins, and he dimly heard the voice talking again – though not to him, it seemed. More like the woman was muttering to herself. Light tried to turn his head, to open his eyes and see what was going on, but it was as though he was bound by invisible ropes and couldn't move. He couldn't open his eyes, he couldn't breathe, even his heart felt as though it was slowing down, each beat more painful and strained than the last.

"Relax, Light Yagami. You're perfectly fine – or at least, you will be. I know that this must be difficult for you, and I know that you can't move, but allow me to assure you that that's perfectly normal; there's absolutely nothing to worry about."

Nothing to worry about? Light though furiously. I'm dying over here, and you're telling me that it's completely normal and there's nothing to worry about?

"Please, listen to me; I know exactly what you're thinking, but believe me, it's exactly the same for all of us. You'll regain full control of your body in about... Well, somewhere between two days and a week, it varies from person to person."

What the hell? 'All of us'? Who is this girl? What is this girl? What does that make me?

"I must apologise; I am terribly sorry for your confusion, Light Yagami. I'll admit, I haven't approached this very well, have I? You may call me Wicked, and I am a vampire."

So? What do you guys think? Should I add any more chapters? (I already have another two typed up, but I don't want to suddenly lose all of my enthusiasm and disappoint you guys) Also, though this isn't quite as applicable in this chapter, I really know very little about Japan, the language and the culture, so if I make any mistakes, don't hesitate to let me know, okay? Oh, before I forget, Kuri=Wicked in Estonian according to google translate. I dunno, just seemed like the sort of thingshe'd do, using her own name in another language as an alias.

Plus, those of you who read Three Days, and therefore have already met Wicked, she wasn't a vampire in that story. I just kinda liked her character, so decided to carry her across.