Title: Distorted Image

Summary: The horror stories circulated, but Mello was never one to believe in ghosts... That is, until he encounters an elusive redheaded boy.

Disclaimer: I don't own DN, and this idea is hardly original.

Author's Note: Sorry for the hiatus. Halloween is near and this is finally updated (even if it is a fairly uneventful chapter). Let's do this!

...

Time became an ever expanding chasm of tension. Mello was battling a barrage of feelings and Mail was just happy to be so bastardically mortalized.

Taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair, the blonde tried to collect his thoughts. "I'm sorry, Mail. I just feel-"

"You're letting your emotions get the best of you," Mail interrupted quickly, taking Mello's hand and beginning to drag him out of the bathroom. "Let's just spend the rest of the school day in your last class, and then you can go home. Then you won't ever have to see me again if you don't want to."

"But Mail, I want to-" before he could even finish the thought, the redhead was opening a door and pushing him into his Literature and Mythology class.

The lights were dim and a movie was playing on the projector.

No one seemed to acknowledge the entrance of two late students as they took refuge in side by side seats in the back left corner of the room, remaining respectfully silent as the movie played.

In honor of Halloween, it was a horror film.

Red filled the room of a small art studio. A grisly howl bellowed from the tainted mound of flesh and guts that writhed on the floor.

"Run," hissed a tall dark figure, pair of bloody scissors in hand. "I'll give you sixty seconds to run, and then I'm going to shove these scissors into your filthy whore body."

Wailing and unable to form words, the victim managed to flip onto his stomach, shaky arms striving to drag himself across the floor; his horrific success left entrails and a loose kidney behind. The sickening 'scrch' of a cadaver's dead weight scraping wood was the main source of sound before laughter overtook the otherwise stale atmosphere.

"Run, DeadBoy, run!"

The scenes that flashed before Mello's eyes had quickly eased the trauma that had consumed him moments prior. Skeptic or not, he was always a fan of gruesome and gorey effects. Violence had a way of taming his inner beast, and he found himself relaxed in his seat, eyes glued to the spray of blood produced by a set of shears.

Mail sat next to him, eyes wide with wonder and arm raised- fingers outstretched with the desire to help the pathetic victim on screen. He stirred in his seat, his nerves all jumbled. "H-He's going to die? Who's the killer? What's going on?" He tried to keep his voice respectfully low, but he needed to know these things; he needed the blonde's attention. "Catch me up on the storyline, Mello."

With a sigh of agitation, Mello leaned over, eyes never leaving the screen as he tried to answer the questions thrown his way. "This is the remake of the original 1980's Bled Alive. Written and directed by Quillish Wammy, the story itself is a rendition of the Matty DeadBoy stories. Basically, this couple are ready to have a kid, right? Well, the woman goes into labor prematurely, and they never make it to the hospital. The child is born at home in a cabin- but it's stillborn. Dead. The would-be mother is unable to comprehend the loss of her child. The would-be father decides that the best thing he could do is get rid of the dead infant. He grabs a bag and a shovel, shoves the dead baby in the bag, and he leaves his wife at home. The man goes deep into the woods with the bagged baby and shovel. He digs a nice deep hole and drops the bag inside, but... before he buries it, he hears the sound of a baby crying -and he sees movement in the bag. He quickly retrieves it and rips the bag open, surprised and relieved to find that the child is very much alive-"

"Mellooo!" Mail interrupts with a whine. "Don't tell me the whole story! I might wanna watch it later. -Just... summarize it."

Mello huffed but complied. "Okay. The baby wasn't really okay. Rather, sinister forces possessed the baby's corpse, but the father had no way of knowing that. -He took the baby home and laid it next to his wife before going to take a shower... and when he came back, his wife was dead. -He later buries his wife and raises the kid alone, but he can never bring himself to love the child because deep down, he knows something is wrong. Years pass and the child -keep in mind that this child is going to become Matty DeadBoy- starts killing small animals, breaking things around the house, and all kinds of weird shit. The father retaliates by beating him, and with each beating, he becomes more vicious. And one day, he takes it too far... but his possessed child refuses to completely die. And even in death, he walks the earth, striving for something unknown."

Mail listened intently, fascinated. However, when Mello's explanation concluded, he scrunched up his face in distaste, quickly standing up and crossing his arms, making a scene. "That's stupid," he says suddenly.

By then, the movie was just ending with a cliché cliffhanger, and the entire class' attention was on the conversing duo.

"This story is loaded with historical inaccuracies!" Mail puffed out his chest and jabbed a thumb toward himself. "I can tell you how it really happened..."

The lights were still off, save for the flashing projector whose gears rattled uselessly once the film role was removed. In a way, it set the tone.

Mail climbed up on a desk and dropped to a comfortable squat, eyes rolling over the curious faces of his spectators. He lowered his voice to a soft and disturbing tone. "It happened ages ago- not too long ago, but long enough for details to become muddled and warped. -On a full-moon night, the autumn leaves blew from their boughs and wild dogs howled in celebration of a bountiful harvest. -Y'see, back then, humans were learning to tame and domesticate them for herding, and when good fortune -such as a good harvest- was upon them, they offered treats to the wild dogs; they believed it was their duty to share their blessings whenever possible. -But that's hardly the point." Having strayed off topic, the redhead blushed and cleared his throat, lowering his tone further and squinting his eyes for eerie effect. "That autumn night, a child was born into a world that was not ready to accept him. His parents unwed, his mother too young- you know how it goes. -Ashamed, his mother and father hid his existence from the world."

It was now Mello's turn to listen to a story. He closed his eyes in favor of visualizing the story in his own head.

The rest of the class was captivated, wide-eyed and waiting for more.

Mail stretched his arms out in a gesture of grandeur. "The entirety of the child's world consisted of a single room. His mother fed him rations of their food, and his father avoided him like a plague. Some days, the boy saw neither parent. He grew up lonely but found solace in a strange book- He'd found it under a loose floor board and was determined to learn to read. Of course, intelligent as he was, in time he was successful in teaching himself. And he was introduced to what he believed to be witchcraft- Try as he might talk to his mother, she would not hear of the magic that grew to be an obsession.-"

"This doesn't sound like a Matty DeadBoy story. He's supposed to be an abused child who gets butchered by his father," a pouting female interjected.

"No, it's like the movie," said another teen. "He's supposed to be possessed."

Mail waited for a moment, letting the class debate and argue before speaking again. "Hey! This is my story. Now listen." The class fell into a stupor of silence and anticipation, then Mail continued. "The boy wasn't aware that the practices he began were part of a sub-Chao ritual. He spilled his own blood and chanted mantras he had no way of translating- Little did he know, he unleashed something devilish. A drought occurred. The crops began to dry out and die. Sickness fell upon the masses. The wild dogs fell into a pattern of aggression. Spouses began cheating shamelessly on one another. Children became rebellious and disobedient. -This was all new. Back then, such things were unheard of.- Of course, that was just the beginning. The evil force rooted itself in the boy's father, and the man began to beat on his wife and son."

Nobody said anything. The air seemed too thick. Even the teacher was speechless.

Mello opened his eyes and noted that the redhead's demeanor seemed to change altogether.

Mail slumped down and sat on the desk, legs draped and feet dangling. Head bowed, hair covered his eyes as his voice fluctuated. "He attacked his wife. Brutally. Beat her until her face was swollen and misshapen. Beat her til she couldn't stand up anymore. Beat her until she stopped breathing, stopped living." Mail's tone darkened and his eyes took on a gleam. "The boy watched in silent horror. And each night, he read from the book, hoping something good would come from it. He was always so careful to hide it when his father came to call. Big, heavy hands as dangerous as any weapon, he hit his son. Time and and again, pounding into him. Knocking him around. Kicking him. Holding him down. Hitting him. And then... it happened. The boy started rattling off random spiels from the book, finding comfort in the one thing that seemed safe in his life. -But... it doesn't end there."

Just then a snobby teen with frizzy hair and braces cut in. "Then the evil fucker grabbed scissors and attacked Matty DeadBoy, and Matty DeadBoy came back, right? We all know the story."

Mail growled to show his distaste before screaming: "I SAID THE STORY DOESN'T END THERE!" He huffed over and over until he regained his breath. Then he lowered his voice again. "DeadBoy's chant saved him that night. As he chanted, eyes closed, the dark magic he'd read so much about revealed itself. And when he opened his eyes, his father was in pieces on the floor. The real killer -the one with the scissors- shows up next-"

Just then, the dismissal bell rang. Yet, caught in a bout of awe, no one dared to make a move.

And the story continued...

...

/That's all for now. Not sure when or what I'll update/post next, but I'll definitely make an effort to get some writing done./