#dark l

He steps forward on the dilapidated landing of his imposing mansion. Breathing in the grey morning air, he tastes it and is confused.

‘The humans are suffering. But why?

The sounds of cracking wood and breaking glass were reminiscent of a rabid thunderstorm.

What was left of furniture in the mansion is no more by now.

His screams echoed in the forest for miles.

He’s battle hardened, covered with scars, and usually wears a very concealing cloak.

He stands at 7’2” and is roughly 400 pounds.

Still keeping hold of some traditions, he wears his trademark blue across the eyes.

You can usually find him in his forests.

Growling echos down the dusty halls. It scatters like broken glass.

“You must be very brave, or very foolish to just walk into my home. Literally just letting yourself in.

Ive not yet had an ego as large as yours attempt to gain entry.”

His deep threatening growls deepen..

“You picked the wrong house little girl.....”

Listen,' someone whispers into my ear. 'Listen to me.'

Am I dead?

'Listen,' the voice whispers. 'In some countries, you kill a monster when it's born. Other places, you kill it only when it kills someone else. Other places, you let it go, out into the forest or the sea, and it lives there forever, calling for others of its kind. Listen to me, it cries. Maybe it's just alone.’

L watched from the dilapidated west tower.

Breathing in deeply, holding the breath, and releasing it slowly... his choice was made.

Moving with an inhuman speed, the only sound to be heard was his robes lashing behind him from his motivated pace.

Coming to the landing that leads to the entryway, he slowed.

Stalking over to the massive thirty foot doors that protected his space...

He slowly opened the door on the right. Standing behind it of course.. he wasn’t about to so quickly trust this stranger.

As the pendulum swings though, he couldn’t let his wolves maul her to death.

The pack held the same aggression he did.

She would be very much alive, when they started to eat her.

A strange twinge of guilt hit him over that option.

So open the door he did...

The nights kill was a quick one.

The deer was cleaned out before L took it home to be field dressed.

In the mornings light, the black vultures would be grateful for the feast of buck internal organs.

Snow fell as silently and constantly as always. Blanketing him far, far away from all he once knew..

As he crouched his massive body down around the fire pit he used for cooking, L let him mind wander.

As time went on, the outcast alpha became increasingly well equipped to keep his raw mind from straying. Tonight however, presented quite challenging.

Orange and red fire danced in front of him, and it was all too easy to be hypnotized by the flames. It was so rare that he allowed thoughts from the past to surface, that once they did they were heavy enough to crush him.

A friendly chuff from behind kicked his brain back to the present. One of the wolves from the local packs that he shared his forest with was looking at him with hopeful eyes and a wagging tail.

The muscles in his face were confused when he smiled at the canine comrades. Tossing out a few chunks of deer meat their direction, the pack ate in that rushed way of wolves.

Never knowing when a threat would make itself known, L understand why they ate quickly.

He understood on a soul level what it was like to never be unguarded. To keep the muscles tightly coiled, the low constant hum of adrenaline, the loss of sound sleep.

Slowly, almost mournfully the night ticks by.

He follows his routine of checking perimeters, making what improvements he could to his hollowed out home, keeping his timing and dexterity up by working with his blades..

For the longest time, he couldn’t for the life of him understand his utter and complete exhaustion at the end of those long nocturnal hours.

When he was aligned with his brothers in the City, he easily did much more extenuating work. He lived for the days he came home to the lair sore, beat up, and thankful.

Thankful he could use his skills for something much larger than himself. Something that would do Splinter proud. His brothers proud. His city proud...

His chest got tight with the memories of family. A lump in his throat appeared that was none too eager to leave.

As he stared again into the fire, the answer to the question he didn’t even know he was asking made itself known.

The reason he was so drained, near half dead by the time morning finally came and he collapsed into slumber..

He was still fighting just as mercilessly, and throughly as he once did in the City.