penance and punishment are between oneself and God - too bad I don't believe in 'im.
[It's been days since Matt's left his room; he just hasn't felt the need to go anywhere, to do anything. Finally, today, the depression is crippling, and he feels the need to get out. In an effort to take his mind off things (his own Mello's abandonment, his imploding relationship with Misa, and his weird-ass relationship with another Mello), Matt's resigned himself to some good old-fashioned mindless wandering. Ever since spilling his guts in the Therapy Room, he hasn't let his mother's old book out of his sight; it's practically been glued to his hand, a cigarette constantly in the other.
He passes it, at first; it's one of those doors, one with an X, on the seventh floor, but something makes him stop. Matt turns, very slowly, his eyes narrowed and pupils dilated, to stare at the door a moment. There's something behind it that he needs to see...
It opens, revealing a stark white room, and Matt walks in - or, rather, climbs out. Standing straight, he looks around, soaking in the new scene that surrounds him: a bustling street at nighttime. He's wearing a vest over his usual striped shirt, and he realizes that his book is gone, his cigarette is between his lips, and he stands beside his red Chevy in the middle of a circle of black sedans, countless suits pointing countless guns straight at him.
He smiles, defiant as ever, holding up his hands.] Now, I'm sure you've got a lot of questions-
[Matt feels the bullet hit him before he hears the shot; behind his goggles, his eyes widen in shock as he feels muscles ripping and bones snapping from the force of the bullet tearing through him.
More shots ring out, so close together it makes one loud ringing sound; the bullets fly all in a group, and he's quickly riddled with them, unable to make a sound, unable to move, only flinching as the shower of ammunition begins to seem neverending.
Finally, they stop; the street, the cars, the bystanders, the guards - they all disappear, and Matt falls backward, slumping against a white wall and sliding down to the equally white floor, bleeding profusely. His eyes flutter before closing finally, and his last breath is used to suck in one last lungful of sweetly acrid smoke before the cigarette falls onto his blood-soaked chest, sizzling out.]
Figures.
[ooc: Welcome back to the Death Room! I've modified it, though. Whether a character is drawn to the room or not is up to the mun, and when they look in, it appears to be just a simple white room, no furniture. As soon as they step inside, it'll transform, and they'll be forced to relive their death; if they don't die in Canon/are AU, then it's up to the mun how they meet their untimely end. When it happens, though, characters won't spend any time being actually "dead"; they'll get right back up - though they'll be suffering any inflicted wounds while in the room. As always, remove if not allowed. :3]