There are so many things in our life that we take for granted, a static

assumption in realistic dynamics. People we meet regularly, coworkers, neighbours, friends and even romance interests, all taken for
granted even though at a deeper level we do know that they change.
One thing that even the deepest level of sub-consciousness never
assumes as anything but static is family, especially your parents,
your siblings, they never disappear. At least that is what another one
of those nave young men assumed, always having them in his life.
Stan Reynning was not much different in this respect. He had always
respected his father, a banking company executive, well known for
having the most cunning mind he had ever come across. He loved his
sister even though she always jabbed him for being the black sheep of
the family. He did not mind that though, as it was actually true. His
whole family had been in the banking business while he became a
computer network specialist, although he knew that he could have
been anything that he wanted in his life, being a jack of all trades. His
mother had divorced when he was a child, so she was little more than
an outsider in his life comprising of his father and sister.
Stan!
A girl shouted, waving a hand in front his face, his violet eyes looking
completely dull. He slowly tilted his head in her direction taking in
her completely black attire, most suited for the occasion.
You know, she said solemnly, if you want to vent your thoughts, I
am there.
Maybe she really meant what she said but Stan could sense the
formality in her tone that suggested a degree of nonchalance to his
plight.
Leave me alone, he said blankly.

The girl withdrew sensing his frustration and ambled away to the
crowd that was leaving after the ceremony. A few mumbles of Kira
could be heard from them before someone would shush them.
Cowards, he thought. How could they sympathise with him, give
those pitiful words when they were afraid of a murderer. They would
never dare to oppose him, the God of the new world, Kira, a being
who delivered ultimate judgement upon those he deemed criminal
enough to be killed. Stan now understood that he was no God; he was
the devil in the guise of an angel of justice. He wanted to strike down
Kira right now, bring him in front of the whole world, and let him out
in front of those countless people who had lost their loved ones at his
hands. He wanted so much more than to simply oppose him by
forming awareness group with some people and criticise him online.
Even that sort of rebellion was minutely small since opposing Kira
was almost equivalent to making enemies with God himself, a God
who could end their lives with a simple heart attack.
Damn it! All of you for supporting Kira.
Stan shouted out at the throngs of people exiting the cemetery. A few
of them looked at him pitifully, but continued outside walking faster
due to the rain that was beginning to pour. This merely incensed him
further as he started running away from them into the woods
surrounding the cemetery, not even paying heed to the fact that he
could get completely drenched.
He really wanted to harm Kira in the most cruel ways that he could
imagine, but he was invincible in a way, and his method of action was
definitely supernatural; how then could he, a mere human even bother
him. He wanted to find someone that knew more about the Kira case
than the normal people. Someone, who knew about the supernatural
angle of this case, that police would simply dismiss. If only he could
find Kiras method of murder, he would understand what Kira really
was.

Hurling out obscenities, drowned by the roar of the wind, he

continued to run deeper into woods until he tripped on a wet patch of
slippery mud.
Huh, he said blankly looking around realizing how far he had run
off to. He looked at the wet patch he slid over and then looked up at
the torrent of raindrops falling over him. He continued to gaze at the
rain drenched landscape deep in thought until his eyes fixed
themselves upon a black rectangular object. He would not have given
it a second thought had it not been for an oddity associated with it. He
crawled slowly to it surprised at its dryness in spite of the heavy rain.
A notebook, this far into the woods, he thought surprised, picking it
up caressing it softly still amazed at its dryness. He opened the very
thin notebook to find no pages in it; it only had a cover with
absolutely no page inside. Over the backside of the front cover were
some instructions indented with numerals. He looked again at the
front cover until text appeared over it out of nowhere.
DEATH NOTE, it read.
Curious now, he turned to the backside of the front cover again and
read the first instruction.
The human whose name is written in this note will die.
Is this some stupid joke? he asked himself aloud laughing faintly at
the idiocy of the instruction. The joke was not even funny since the
notebook had no pages. He continued to read further instructions until
his eyes narrowed upon reading the word heart attack. It almost
seemed to implicate that Kira actually had a note book like this that
actually had pages in it. Stan began laughing at the absurdity of his
thoughts, his laughter becoming more and more maniac until he heard
a loud snicker.
Whos there?

Look up human boy, a drawling voice echoed from above with a

strange accent to it.
Whaaat?
He backed away looking up at a monster which was slowly
descending over to him. Said monster was looking at him surprised.
I should have known that only a madman can ever own this, he
remarked to himself snickering at his own joke. Stan could hardly
find anything funny in this.
What are you? he asked trying to regain his composure although the
shaking of his legs gave away his fright.
I am someone who has sinned in the past and am looking for
atonement. Can you help me with that?
Stan looked at the creature confused now convinced that this was for
real since even his brain could not synthesise something this odd to be
the creatures answer. Sensing the confusion, the creature drew
himself close to Stan looking straight in his eyes.
Are you afraid?
I should be, shouldnt I? I dont know your intentions.
The creature curled his mouth in a half-grin.
Are you afraid of the human who is killing people?
No, I hate him, hes a murderer. But why do you ask that and what
are you?
The creature backed away a little with discernable relief in his onyx
eyes.

I am the one who can help you with that and for what I am, he said
eloquently with a dramatic pause, My names Ophian. I am a
Messor, a God of death.