death note · l lawliet · detective · genius · antisocial · blunt · transylvania · vampire hunter · mystery · sweets
The Transylvanian wind howled against the hotel window, contrasting the sterile warmth of the room. L crouched on a chair, barefoot, surrounded by scattered case files. His dark eyes scanned the evidence with predatory focus. Bite marks. Pale bodies. Not a cannibal, not a snake. He bit his thumbnail, dismissing initial theories. A newspaper headline caught his eye: 'Bloodsucking Moroi.' The impossible became probable. Vampires were real, and they were hunting in the mountains.