Me: Alright, so the summary is this: Basically, it's Beyond's thoughts before he attempts suicide at the end of the L.A.B.B. Murder Cases. I edited it, but I didn't mess with a whole lot; just added a few tid bits here and there. And there might be a second chapter added. :) Though this was intended to be a one-shot.

Beyond: Oh how I love this fic.~ The work from your inner psycho..

Me: Er. I'm not a psycho. I'm perfectly normal. :) Whatever normal is...anyway. I don't own Death Note or Death Note: Another Note The Los Angeles B.B. Murder Cases, though I do have a copy of the book. :) Please enjoy, and remember to review though it's only a one-shot.

You made me do it all.

The murders. The games. This case.

It was all because of you.

As if my life wasn't haunted enough.

My shinigami eyes made my life miserable, I always being reminded of death. Always being reminded that those close to me will die. You knew of my eyes, my eternal curse.

I thought that you would be gentle with me. That you would understand.

But yet you continued to wound me. Continued to lead my heart around on a leash like I was your pathetic lap dog. Continued to call me by that wretched name. "Backup."

Oh how that name struck my every last nerve. You would see my disgusted grimace, felt the anger pouring off of me in waves, seen it in my ruby red eyes.

But you'd stil smile that innocent little smirk and all the rage would disappear.

I wanted nothing more than for you to notice me. To become a part of your hectic life. To solve every case by your side. Together we could have made the world a better place, catching criminals and seeing to it that they were punished for their sins. My heart beat only for you. Could you not see? Could you not hear it's frantic pace every time you entered the room?

After you gave me that infernal nickname, my nose was almost always in a book, turning my brain into mush to try and please you.

But no.

A was your favorite.

A was 'number one'. I saw the way you looked at her. The way she would smile so sickeningly sweet when you were around. It was more disgusting than those little cakes you liked to eat. So one night, keheehee...

I murdered little miss Number One.

Oh yes, my dear Lawliet, she was murdered by your beloved Backup.

Don't fret, my love, for she did not suffer. I made sure she was perfectly…at ease...

I studied case after case for fourteen days that involved murders staged as suicides. I picked out their every flaw. Overflowed notebook after notebook with my findings and notes.

You were all none the wiser.

You. Your ignorant teaching staff. That baffoon of a headmaster Roger. Your slave, Watari. You were all ignorant of the plans rolling through my skull.

The night the deed was done, I thought everything would be grand. I thought you would happily make me number one for my brilliance, take me by your side to help you in your quest to help the world.

But no.

You had to call me into Rodgers' office, fill me with the toxic false hope you had been feeding me for years. You had to torture me with those now lifeless eyes that bore into my soul with a seemingly bored expression. Your hollow, monotonous voice telling me A committed suicide, and I was the new number one.

That was the day my world shattered. The day I lost it all.

Tell me, L, do you still have those nightmares? Do you still remember her lifeless corpse hanging from the beautiful chandelier you yourself placed in her room? Her bloodless flesh reflecting beautifully in the moonlight? Her grey eyes clouded with death? Her rose pink lips parted in a silent scream of shock? Her fragile neck bruised, broken and bleeding from the tightness of the noose?

After everything thing I did for you! It was all in vain! All for nothing! Those nightmares, those haunting visions of your dead lover, they were the least you deserved for destroying my world!

So yes, my dear sweet Lawliet. You were the cause of my spiraling insanity. The start of my slow descent into madness.

Your little puppet Naomi is in the other 'suspected' room. I've led her by her pretty little nose through this whole case.

I'm sure by now you already realize that I'm behind this whole game. But I am grateful you've left her in the dark.

I can perform the last murder without her interrupting.

The sprinkler system in the apartment has been disabled. The gasoline ready to be poured upon the victim's body.

The victim being me, of course. Heheheheh...

Do you remember that conversation we had one day, my dear Lawliet? The one where you actually treated me like an equal?

"Criminals are stupid," you said, "because they leave evidence behind, and they stick around, thinking they'll never get caught. They're the biggest piece of evidence at the scene."

Hats off to you, Lawliet, for tipping your dear, sweet Backup off.

You'll never catch me now.

I laugh quietly to myself, now, pouring the putrid gasoline over my clothes, my skin, my hair. My eyes burn from the chemical, but I continue to laugh and pour it all over me.

The match comes next, the most valuable tool in creating my masterpiece. Despite my dripping wet hands, I manage to grab one from the box and light it, the flame making a beautiful noise and smell as it burns the stick held delicately in between my fingers.

As soon as I hear Naomi's voice over the walkie-talkie on the floor, I drop the flame, laughing when I feel the intense heat engulf my being.

Before too long all I can do is scream in agony. It hurts...more than I thought it would. I can feel my skin boiling, bubbling, the blisters forming large whelps onto my skin, rising and rising until they burst with fluids.

You like this, don't you Lawliet? Your little backup, the heir to what you stand for, for your place in the Criminal Justice system, is burning. Suffering for his sins. But I do it because of you. Because you weren't able to open up those dull eyes of yours and see the capable man in front of you.

A was nothing. She was weak. She was useless. She was nothing like you. Nothing like your job. Did you know, she wanted nothing to do with being a detective? She wanted to be an artist. An artist!

I hear Naomi burst through the door, suddenly.

She's figured it out. She's figured out I was the one killing all those people.

Good for her.

But..I haven't burned enough yet. The intense burning sensation has only just begun to dull, the flames lapping at my flesh and beginning to destroy my nerves.

I'm still alive.

I feel the cool pressure from the fire extinguisher in her hands, erasing the flames from my body. I won't lie, I welcomed the sensation as I fell to the floor in a painfully crisp heap. There's silence for a time. Then I faintly hear her footsteps approaching, her fingers gingerly touching my wrist. I want to scream from the pain.

"Ryuzaki?" I hear her mutter my alias. I try to laugh, try to insult her stupidity. But it comes out in a groan of pain. Damn my vocal chords for disobeying me.

"You're under the arrest for the murders of Backyard Bottom Slash, Quarter Queen, and Believe Bridesmaid. You do not have the right to remain silent. You do not have the right to an attorney."

Damn it.

Me: Heh, I love the last part. "Damn it." -giggles-

Beyond: It's something I would say in that position. ^.^ You know me too well.

Bakura: -reads over my shoulder- Quite interesting. This was part of a book?

Me: No. Beyond is a psychopathic genius who murdered three people in cold blood to piss off the world's greatest detective. Though he does light himself on fire, this is just speculation of what was going through his head before he did it and after. I think I just might do a second chapter for what happens after. :)

Bakura: Well then, I take back everything I said about you, Beyond ol' pal. -pats his back-

Beyond: -bows- ^.^ Thank you, thank you.

Me: Anyway, review if you want. I'm almost 100% certain I won't get a review for this until the second chapter is added. Which I'm going to work on right after I upload this. :)