Moriarty (Sherlock Fan-Fiction (Short Version))

When James Moriarty died he thought that Sherlock Holmes would soon be joining him in Hell. Too bad it didn't quite work out that way. Sherlock was meant to die on the roof of Barts Hospital, but he managed to fake his death and successfully dismantle Moriarty's criminal network. His web of crime was over. But what Sherlock didn't know was that Moriarty had daughters. 6 incredibly smart daughters that could continue his legacy and rebuild what Sherlock had destroyed. Look out Sherlock; Moriarty is back. (I am aware that Moriarty has returned! Lets just pretend that he's dead for this :D ) (This version is for the competition and is much shorter)

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3. Rebecca

Faking my death was easy enough. We had set dates (to avoid suspicion); we all succeeded and were all believed dead. Really, it was like the Moriarty sisters had done the opposite. We were alive and thriving, ready to get our hands dirty.

I was to do it last, so I was the last one to walk through the doors to our Dad’s secret office. Immediately I could tell Charlotte had been decorating.

“Hi Rebecca!” Elizabeth called joyfully from behind the receptionist’s desk. “I get to be receptionist until we find a permanent person.” She said with a sweet smile. I giggled and came and sat next to her. After the funeral we actually kept contact and we had become great friends.

“Lizzie, I need to get the bags to my room! We can talk later. Will you help me?” She picked up my bags immediately and led me through a dark door. There was a thin corridor with 3 doors either side, and she placed my bags outside the one in the middle on the left. “Thanks. Where’s the key?”

“You’re the key, silly!” She laughed. Quickly I noticed a near invisible fingerprint detector and with one brush the door clicked open. I took one step in and noticed that it was much more than a room: I had almost a house.

“I know, it is so cool!” Lizzie said almost bursting. “I’ll let you pack. See ya!” And with that, she ran off. I couldn’t protest with her energy. She was such a daunting presence when you knew her really. Dad had made the right choice with her role. She was a ticking time bomb, and you never knew when her dark side would take over.

After unpacking, I left the ‘flat’ to the designated meeting room. But when I got there, I saw a strange man in the chair with a sister across from him behind a desk. I couldn’t tell which one it was because I quickly was pulled aside by another. It was Katherine who had grabbed me, and I was taken to an observation room. After that she left without a word. I shook my head and started to speak.

“What’s...”

“No time.” Charlotte said to me anxiously. “We have a client and Elizabeth is dealing with him.” I was about to ask more when Victoria span my chair around.

“Charlotte has an earpiece and is listening to the discussion. Don’t bother her. I’ll explain.”

“What’s going on?” I asked and she laughed. Her laugh was empty though, like her eyes, and she appeared to have no emotion. I could tell she was an experienced faker.

“We have our first client. He claims to have got hold of an expensive, and very rare, treasure believed to have been stolen from King Christian IV of Denmark. If you can convince Alexandra to go pick it up she’ll go on Thursday. Otherwise we’ll have to get Charlotte and you know how she feels about field work.” I roll my eyes. Alexandra is a little brat. Why do I have to convince her? “You’re the only one who can persuade anyone to do anything, Rebecca. You’ve been doing that your entire life.” Did I just think aloud? I shudder as Victoria’s sudden interest in the screen gets me to turn around. Charlotte unplugs the earpiece and the sound begins to come from a speaker. Charlotte’s mouth hangs open in shock and Victoria’s dead eyes have a hint of surprise. I see it. Elizabeth’s dark side is about to come out. This poor client better watch out.

“Why should I be scared of you?” The client is cocky with a slight Polish accent. He either doesn’t see the small knife being juggled in Elizabeth’s fingers or he doesn’t care.

“Because, Mr Mazur, I will kill you if you disobey me.” She says with an almost alien, dark tone. He laughs.

“No you won’t; you are just a little girl.”

“Are you taunting me, Mr Mazur? Don’t you think that it is unwise to doubt a Moriarty?”

“What will you do to me, ‘Little Miss Moriarty’?” This is it. He has made a mistake.

“Mr Mazur, I assure you I will KILL YOU.” Her voice turned from cold to pure inferno in the last two words, and as she said them she slammed the knife into the table. No, wait, she didn’t. Charlotte put her hands to her mouth as we saw the blood trickle onto the floor. Elizabeth slammed the knife into her own leg. Now they know why she was placed as assassin. I already knew. It was a much tamer reaction than I expected, mind, but I still knew it was coming.

“Are you alright?” The client said timidly.

“I’m fine.” Elizabeth snapped with gritted teeth. She took in a long breath before she sealed the bargain. “Now Mr Mazur I’m sure I have your attention. This is your only chance at getting a small fortune from your little trinket. I will put you in contact with a man who can sell it as long as you meet with a representative on Barker Lane this Thursday. If you fail to show up with said trinket or at all then I will personally, most certainly kill you in the most disturbing way possible. Got that?” He gulped and nodded. “Then piss off. We’ll see to you on Thursday.” He obeyed and ran out of the door. As the door was shutting I saw Katherine grab him and drag him away. I shudder again. I can definitely believe that I’m related to these people. We’re all crazy, and I think that’s great.

Elizabeth turned to the camera and her rage has suddenly drained.

“Charlotte?” She said feebly.

“I’m here Lizzie.” She replied, surprisingly calm.

“Can you take me to the hospital?”

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