Once upon a time there was a man named Moriarty. He was just starting out his career as a criminal and he hoped to one day be consulting criminal. He was 18 years old and had been in the drug dealing business for two years. He was feared and respected and no one would ever double cross him. One day he was making his rounds of collecting money from the local drug dealers of London that worked for him. His first stop was to see Mr. Watson who he knew had been keeping more than fifty percent of his drug money earnings. Moriarty would not tolerate this. Mr. Watson would be made an example of along with his wife. Moriarty's two body guards knocked down the front door of an unkempt flat.
"Hello? Anybody home?" Moriarty called out in a singsong voice. The guards searched the flat finding Mr. and Mrs. Watson in the bedroom with their bags half packed. "Trying to run are we?" He asked as the man and woman were forced on their knees in front of him.
"Please-" Mr. Watson started but he was kicked in the stomach and forced so shut up.
"I wonder if you have forgotten that only 20 percent of the drug money you earn is yours but here I find you've been keeping 50 percent. There's really no reason for that. I provide the drugs after all and for how much they cost I'd say 20 percent was enough for two people to live comfortably." Moriarty glared down at the Watsons but held a smile on his face.
"Daddy?" A small voice called out from behind Moriarty. The psychopath looked behind him to find a little blonde girl.
"No! Harriet run!" Mrs., Watson cried. The little girl tried to run but was grabbed by Moriarty. The psychopath held the five year old upside down by her leg.
"What have we here?" The little girl cried out for her mum and dad.
"Leave her alone, she has nothing to do with this!" Mr. Watson yelled struggling against the man holding him in place. Moriarty smiled wide as if he'd just come up with a great idea.
"What better way to give an example to the other drug dealers than to kill an entire family just for stealing from me. Things are really looking up," Moriarty said happily. "Kill them." One of the guards took out a handgun with silencer and shot Mr. Watson in the head before he had time to scream. Mrs. Watson screamed but was soon shot between the eyes. Moriarty dropped the little girl. "Her too."
The guards did as he said reluctantly. One gaurd put the gun to the crying child's temple and pulled the trigger. The room was covered in the family's blood. Moriarty sighed in happiness but he then frowned at the sound of crying. The psychopath looked down at the bodies. They were all dead so where was that dreadful crying coming from.
Moriarty stepped around the bodies and walked down the hall toward the crying. He stopped at a door with four blue letters that spelled out the name John. He opened the door and the crying became louder than before. The room had baby blue walls. There was a changing table to the right and a dresser to the left and on the far side of the room was a white crib with a baby mobile hovering over the child. Moriarty peaked in to the crib to find a crying blonde baby wrapped in a blue blanket. He picked the baby boy up as if it were diseased, holding it at arm's length. They baby immediately stopped crying and reached out his little hands toward Moriarty with a smile.
"Sir?" One of the guards asked poking his head in to the room.
"We're taking this with us," Moriarty said bringing the baby to his chest. They baby snuggled up to him and closed his eyes to sleep. The psychopath wasn't sure why he didn't just kill this baby but he couldn't help just wanting it. As much as children disgusted him, this baby seemed different and he'd hate to admit it but the little one was cute.
Moriarty didn't finish collecting his money that day. Instead he took the baby home with him. He liked the baby very much and called it John because according to the baby's old bedroom door that was his name. But Moriarty knew he couldn't keep that baby with him all the time. Besides people might think he's gone soft letting a baby live when he should have killed it. John was hidden away in a large gothic mansion far from London in a deep dark forest.
To make sure John would never escape, he was locked in the mansion's tower never allowed to leave. His only link to the outside world was a window looking out over the fields and along the forest's edge.
:) :) :)
Once upon a time there was a baby born to a rich and intelligent family. His name was Sherlock Holmes and as his body grew so did his curiosity. He grew to be a genius just like his brother but different in many ways. His brother, Mycroft, subjected himself in to society and made his way to the top in the government and although the Holmes family never mentioned it, everyone knew Mycroft was the government. Sherlock however closed himself off from the world. He spent his days with experiments and then finally found his calling. He found solving crimes to be interesting and exciting and a way to cure his boredom. Sherlock came up with his own career as a consulting detective and although the Holmes family disapproved of it he carried on with the career happily.
One day Sherlock Holmes was on another case, he was 25 years old and had been at this business for 7 years. He had been on this case for three days now. The man he was after had killed three families with in the month the police were out of their depth and that's why Sherlock was called in. He had tracked the killer all around London and in to a deep forest.
Sherlock, of course, was always bad at taking backup with him but at least he had his skull with him which was useful for talking to. He followed foot prints and snapped twigs and whatever other clues the criminal left behind.
He mumbled quite a lot to the skull in his hand about which way the killer went and how he had put all the pieces together indicating who the killer was. Sherlock stopped mumbling as he walked in to a clearing. There in front of him stood a large, tall, old, gothic mansion. He walked toward the front door and noticed it had been broken in to; no doubt the killer was in there.
Lightning crackled as clouds rolled in making the whole scene of the house even creepier than it already was. He entered through the broken down door in to a dark room. Sherlock took a flash light out of his pocket and shined it all around.
The room was large with dust with cob webs all around. No one had lived in the mansion in a long time. To the left was a door way. Sherlock looked inside to find an undisturbed kitchen. He walked to the other side of the room carefully listening for the killer to make a noise. He looked through another door way and found an old looking bed room but it to was undisturbed. Sherlock walked to the far side of the room from the front door. There stood a closed door, he opened it but only to find a brick wall which was old as well and had obviously been there for a long time but yet the bricks weren't quite as old as the mansion itself.
Sherlock was then grabbed from behind and thrown on to the floor his skull was knocked from his hand and rolled across the room. The killer wrapped his hands around the detective's neck and started to choke him. Sherlock tried to push him away but the man was to strong. He began to suffocate when all of a sudden there was a noise other than Sherlock's struggles echoing through the mansion and outside.
It was humming. Someone was humming an unknown tune.
"Who's out there?" The killer called getting distracted enough for Sherlock to push him off. The man fell to the ground. Sherlock stood up but was knocked to the ground by a swipe under the feet. The killer ran out the door. Sherlock ran after him but stopped just before coming out of the mansion.
He saw the killer standing before a man slightly shorter than him a few feet away. Sherlock decided to hang back and see if maybe this was an accomplice of some sort. The humming continued until a gun shot rang out just as the lightning crackled in the dark cloudy sky. Sherlock watched as the killer fell to the ground.
The mysterious figure laughed a little and then walked around the mansion. Sherlock went out the door and discreetly followed the stranger. He got a closer look. The man was shorter than Sherlock, short black hair, and wore a nice looking suit. The man didn't notice Sherlock and spoke out to the mansion's tower.
"Child, oh child, with hair so fine, look out the window, throw me the vine," The man said. With that a vine fell from the tower and he climbed up it. Sherlock watched the man disappear in to the tower and finally left the forest himself deciding to come back tomorrow and investigate further.
:) :) :)
John sat by the window and looked up at the dark clouds coming in. It seemed that there was a storm coming. He took a comb through his blond hair. His father was coming tonight, he came every three days. John wanted to look nice for his dad. After he finished combing his short blond hair he paced around the large open room.
Today was the day he planned on asking his dad to let him leave the tower. After all, he was 27. John was old enough to leave the tower by now. He sat down and looked out the window again and started to hum a made up tune. His humming echoed throughout the forest, he always liked that noise echoed like that. It was fun to yell out random things and hear the echoes.
Lightning crashed through the sky and John heard along with it a gun shot. He stopped his humming retreated in to the tower away from the window. He often heard shooting coming from the woods. His dad always told him it was just him hunting for food but what John didn't know was his 'dad' often had people killed in the forest if they undermined him in anyway.
It seemed an odd time to be hunting; John sat on his bed and listened.
"Child, oh child, with hair so fine, look out the window, throw me the vine," A voice said. John did as he was told and threw out the vine. He always thought his dad's rhyme saying to be funny but he was told it was serious. Anyone could ask him to let then in, John was only aloud letting someone in if they knew the rhyme. But of course no one ever came but his dear old dad.
"Hello Johnny-boy!" Moriarty said climbing through the window. He walked toward John and gave him a big hug. John noticed his dad was always in a good mood after hunting, it must be fun.
"Hi dad," John said with a smile. His hands began to sweat. He was nervous about asking if he could to leave the tower. Moriarty put a basket on John's dining table on the other side of the room. The basket contained John's food for the next few days,
Moriarty wasn't a very good dad at all. He was violent at some points and caring at other points. John feared him when his mood was down but since his 'dad' was in a good mood it was a good time to ask. John sat on his bed with his dad next to him. Moriarty ran his fingers throw his 'son's' hair.
"Dad," John started. Moriarty gave him a kind smile as if to say 'please continue'. "Um, I'm 27 years old."
"Are you?" Moriarty said sarcastically.
"Yes," John smiled. "And I, um, I-" John couldn't seem to ask.
"It's okay Johnny-boy, you can ask me anything," Moriarty said pulling John in to a hug. The blond lay his head on his dad's chest as his dad petted his hair.
"Well, I thought that since I'm 27 that maybe I'd be old enough to leave my tower." John winced as Moriarty gripped his hair tightly.
"You want to leave?" Moriarty said in a deep voice. He pulled John away from his chest hard by his hair. The blond tried not to yell out in pain as that had always made his dad inflict more.
"N- no," John said.
"Do you know what kinds of things are out there?" Moriarty said standing up and forcing John up by the hair. "It's dangerous out there!" He flung John on to the bed and turned to pace around the room. "There are dangerous people out there that could hurt you," Moriarty explained. John sat on his bed with his back against the wall; his 'dad' got on to the blonde's bed and grabbed his arms painfully hard pushing him harder against the wall. "John," He said. He usually said Johnny-boy but when he said John it meant he was serious. "You're so fragile and small. That's why I brought you here, if I hadn't you would have been killed by the people that kill your mother and sister."
"But I was a baby then," John argued. Moriarty's face became angry and he pulled John forward and then back against the wall. John yelled out in pain as his head smacked the wall.
"I've had enough of this John, you are not leaving and that is final," Moriarty said sternly. He got to his feet and put his hands on his hips. John broke out in to tears and wrapped his arms around Moriarty's waist crying in to his stomach.
"I'm sorry," John said, his words muffles because his face was pressed hard against his dad's stomach. Moriarty petted John's head. After a few moments he moved John to sit on the bed and leaned down to his level.
"I just want to keep you safe."
"I know dad," John said hugging Moriarty. Moriarty then left the tower promising to come back in a few days.
So, what do you think? Review Please! I said please…..
Also, sorry for bad grammar, I have no beta reader…..