James Moriarty - The Devil's Descendant

Chapter 5

Lyrics that had tortured James Moriarty, verse by verse, were now being newly embedded into his mind until he stopped them with the earplugs from Sherlock's room. Even though there was a possibility of them having been used, he did not think anything of it since he had only wanted to get rid of the noise in his head.

Whilst she was rummaging around downstairs, they took the liberty to record the song all over again, to have it sent off to someone who could take a look at it for them. They were so simple yet so mind-altering, they changed your perception of certain things.

In a sense, it was less of a song, more of a rhyme, a riddle or some sort of poetry recital. When hummed in a small lullaby it can certainly change the things you view.

Leaving me in silence was all you ever did,

You took me, tortured me and hunted me till dead,

I saw everything you were doing until you looked at me,

The blame was poured upon my rotting corpse,

If only there was something that would make you feel remorse,

James moved to the left side of the apartment where the kitchen was to see if there was any bottled water in the fridge. As he pulled open the refrigerator door, he felt the cold from the fridge smack him in the face. It was an unnatural force, smacking him in the face vigorously. In one motion he was transported away, away to a place covered in snow.

With a gun in hand, just the one, he was standing in the middle of nowhere with no home or any form of shelter to keep him away from the blistering blizzards digging knives into his skin almost instantly. 

He needed some form of protection from the blizzards that were oncoming, waves of small armies in the snow battering his body with bricks and stones, hitting him and puncturing his body with murderous intent. Hoping, praying, yet condescending toward them all the same. Nothing stopped Moriarty from making people feel insignificant when his dense stare penetrated their confident exterior. He needed a shelter to stop himself from making himself look a fool if it was at all possible. Moriarty would never be an idiot, he never had been and he would never succumb to becoming one, that was one thing he owed to himself. That was who he was. For eternity. 

They were chattering behind him, they were not feeling the cold like he was, they were not afflicted by the things of the altitudes they were raised high up above. Above the world below them, which seemed so insignificant and nothing now they were isolated from everyone able to take them away. To take him away. It was so real that no one could take away the instant effects of envisioning this kind of issue, being targeted, a photo at the centre of a dartboard. Instead of throwing darts, they were firing bullets and knives, hurting far more than anything else could. Far more than a dart. 

Your weak point is everything I had to play with,

You gave no incentive apart from the greed to kill,

I enjoyed watching you play with the puzzles I left for you to discover,

Was it when you found your first murder, that you uncovered you were mentally misunderstood,

Blood spilled everywhere like a can of worms,

The voice in your head rotting away your mind,

For now, you can remember the guilt you have is mine,

Standing up straight, he looked around the vast expanse of snow. There were no footprints of his own, apart from the one set he was embedded into the snow beneath him. His weight was starting to make a thick imprint in the never-ending deep, thickness the snow beheld. Whatever he was held by, it held if steadfast and strong, it crushed the body like a weight, making you crumble under the pressure to understand what you had done. Forcing you to reconcile with your past so dark it killed you when you thought about it. The lyrics were one that no one else could match and kick, to beat and burn like thousand of tiny worms eating you from the inside out. Making you like an apple eaten alive. When an apple starts to rot, you know that something has infiltrated the boundaries, you see the whole in the luscious green, infected by the rotting intrinsic sugar beginning to leek out of the luscious fruit. 

Around him, the sound of his panting breaths echoed against the mountainous regions. When he realised he was upon the top of the mountain nearby, he sought safety by grabbing hold of one of the rocks protruding out the side of the wall. His hand found a larger one that his hand could physically grab hold of. Adrenaline was pumping through his body ever so slightly, making him feel like he should jump off of the edge of the cliffside.

"Don't jump now, James," he was talking to himself incessantly. It was giving him the comfort he had never necessarily decided to sought after. Now that he was, he liked not feeling so empty.

Emptiness. A void no one seems to fill when you are alone when you feel alone. No one is there for you apart from you, but you cannot sustain yourself long enough to remain the same person you once were. Some things, unfortunately, come along to try us. You just need to accept that problems will not last forever unless they do and you are affected by such things for the rest of your life. Aella was bound to be the problem he would be affected by for the rest of his life, from now until forever. 

I thought the vast expanse was the perfect place for you,

To hang, to cry and see what you had done to you,

At one time you had never been so cruel, a heart of utter gold,

Just a baby begging for your mom to cradle you in her arms,

Now you wanted to jump and be done with the life you possess,

Thinking about never coming back to the world you liked to rule,

But, now you realise it had always been so cruel,

All your men wanted nothing more than to see you die,

They nibbled at your feet, tearing at your shoe,

Until blood came pouring out since one had bitten you,

Around him, nothing had ever felt so alone. One of the earplugs must have dropped out of his ear, making him listen to the words of her song.

At his feet, the wolves came whining, crying, howling on the edge of the cliff. They had chased his scene to the top of the mountain cliffside, letting him see the drop beneath his feet. He watched their fur blow gently in the wind, waving in the gentle snow breeze. The delicate beauty of their fur was outstanding, all well kept, all ready for Moriarty's next command and call.

"What are you doing? You have your orders!" his voice was a mere howl to them, their eyes changing from a normal viewing to a wicked cry of utter cruelty. They could not wait to pounce on his meaty body and feast on what it beheld.

Their howls were like a chain reaction, blowing into the air, carried away in the cool breeze.

"This is how you pay me!"

You watched them lunge and cry in anger tearing at your skin,

Ripping at your flesh with no remorse and any sign of upset,

You wished you could stop feeling the way you did after Aella found out what you did,

The blood was more pain than you could handle, she had made you weak and thin,

Your bones were more like flavour for a broth than the purpose they had once been.

James was pulled back as Moran closed the fridge. He rubbed his eyes incessantly wondering where he was, trying to get his bearing together. The flat looked a little different as if someone had been in fairly recently, and it was definitely not him.

"Who has been in here?" he raised his eyebrow to Moran, wondering what he knew.

"I saw from inside the bedroom, it was Alina,"

James cleared his throat, scratching the top of the head. "What was she doing?"

"She was singing to you, it has not affected me because she targeted it at you, which means she after you for a reason she did not reveal,"

"Obviously she has some way of getting into your head if she targets you,"
"Maybe..."

The devil's daughter has her friends covered in scarlet red,

She knows them one by one and controls them from their bed,

It never failed to surprise those who already knew,

Who already knew she's the ruler of those in which she knows,

You could be her victim if you fail to be exposed,