SHERLOCK I, II, III & IV • #wattys2016

Second Injection?

“Hello, Sherlock,” Moriarty purred as he twisted around in the driver seat. Looking directly at Sherlock, he sung, “You had your way out, I had mine. Did you really think I’d die before you?” the criminal shifted the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot.

“But you were dead!” John shouted. “Sherlock said you were.”

“Oh, blah, blah, blah,” Moriarty interrupted as he made imitations of himself talking with his closed fingers. “Don’t you have a muzzle for your pet?”

“How did you do it,” Sherlock asked bluntly.

“I know people, they know me.” Moriarty patted the passenger seat, inviting Sherlock to join him.

Sherlock pulled himself from the back and slipped down into the left seat. “Do they know me?”

“You might have met someone.  Oh, let’s say, a funny looking lady named Dr. Stapleton.” Moriarty’s marble brown eyes rolled over to study Sherlock.

“What about her?” Sherlock said.

“Well, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, wouldn’t you like to deduct it? Oh, damn!” Moriarty snapped his fingers and his face scrunched up in remembrance. “I forgot. You’re drugged. You need to save your energy for the big days!” the criminal reached over and patted Sherlock’s thigh violently. “Oh, the things you won’t know.”

“You talked to Dr. Stapleton?” John piped up. “Did she, like, operate you after you blew up your squash? I mean, she can make bunnies glow and she did talk highly of cloning.”

Moriarty raised an eyebrow and turned to Sherlock. He thumbed towards John, nodding his head in approval. “Oh, he’s good. Sexy little bugger, have you two gotten it on yet?” He threw his head back and laughed loudly, much to John’s annoyance. “I’m sorry, you two, I have to throw it out there, it’s just so…not complete if I don’t. Anyway, let’s get down to business, Sherlock Holmes.”

“About time,” Sherlock answered brusquely.

“I did seek out Dr. Stapleton. I told her what I was going to do and she agreed to do so. I had a brain transplant along with some very risky surgery. Basically, they brought me back to life with the help of a twenty-five year old heart donor and a thirty-three year old brain donor. They pumped new blood into me and put me on a ventilator. The only thing I could’ve lost was my soul. But, we both know I was never born with one in the first place.” Moriarty chuckled.

“That’s—,” Sherlock began in a steady breath before his opponent cut him off.

“Brilliant? Yes, yes, I know. I know. Now, enough of me, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m keeping the duchess with me at my hideaway, and during that time, we’re going to broadcast!”

“Broadcast?” John repeated, leaning forward in his seat.

Raising his hand like a school child, Moriarty chanted in a high voice, “Whose got a Twitter account? I do! Whose got a Facebook? I do! Whose got a tumblr, a YouTube, an Ask.com, a myspace, a Linkedin, a pininterst, a Ning, or a mylife.com? I do! I’ve got all the social networks at my fingertips. All I need to do is ask my hired people to start promoting our show. You’re already famous, Sherlock, it won’t take more two weeks.”

“What about America?” Sherlock pointed out.

Moriarty turned into the driveway of a rather quaint house and put the cab into park. Before getting out, he faced Sherlock. “Not just America. But everywhere! I want the world to see who you really are! Not just London, bah! The problem with the Reichenbach case was that my audience was so small! So small!”

“Is this where you live?” John asked, stepping out of the cab. “By the way, how did you get the cab?”

The criminal shrugged and stuck a piece of gum into his mouth. “While I was away, I was so bored that I went to a cabbie school and took a cabbie lesson so that I could drive a cabbie. Because I believed that one day it’d be useful.” Moriarty turned to Sherlock and blew him a kiss. “And it has become so very handy. Now, get inside.”

Sherlock and John followed Moriarty inside the house, both trading looks of anxiety and caution. John stuttered in his steps, pulling back towards the cab, hinting to Sherlock that they should make a run for it. Sherlock shook his head and nodded John to stay beside him.

“Before we go inside, have you figured out anything about the triangles and collie?” Moriarty inquired as he pushed the front door open with his shoulder. “By the way, I was the voice in your head and I did stalk you that one night.”

The detective stopped and closed his eyes. He peeled through his thoughts, wincing at every spot that caused him to think harder. “It’s a child’s game. You’ve done this before.”

“Go on,” Moriarty urged with a smile. “Impress me!”

“You used a collie because that’s the famous childhood dog-hero, Lassie. You used the triangle because not only was it a deathly symbol, but because it was shape—all children remember the triangle more than the circle because the triangle is just so sharp and interesting looking. You used an ape because children love them; a circus favorite. And you threw in colors— oh! I suppose this wouldn’t be complete without those.”

Moriarty waved Sherlock off in false humility.

“And the massacre you did at the palace was based off the massacre that occurred in the States performed by Mitchell Scott Johnson and Andrew Douglas Gordon.  They were two middle-school students who pulled a fire alarm at a school in Arkansas and killed the children and teachers who were evacuating. Though, that’s a more violent childhood nudge, don’t you think?”

“Do you get the snake bit?” Moriarty leaned in towards Sherlock, a smile growing on his face.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and stared in his enemy’s eyes. His brain squeezed and panted for energy to think. His eyes began to ache and his skull tightened in agony. Taking a large air intake, Sherlock replied in the exhalation, “Snakes were something you feared as a child. Your amygdala gave it away. You know what that is, don’t you, John?”

“Yes, it’s the small nugget in a person’s brain that detects fear.”

“Exactly. Your eyes widened, vibrated slightly, and your throat tightened. Obviously, snakes must’ve been horrible for you. A criminal of your status wouldn’t get as lightheaded as you just did if snakes weren’t prominent in your life.” Sherlock smirked and gave a small victory wink at Moriarty.

Moriarty’s eyes squinted and he said quietly, “I think it’s time for your second injection.”

“Second?” Sherlock echoed in surprise.

“You’re not giving him a second,” John prohibited.

“Oh, I won’t? Are you going to try and stop me?” Moriarty’s face lit up at the thrilling thought of agitating John.

“I’ll do anything to keep you from sticking him. So, yes, I will stop you.”

Practically hyperventilating at the intensity growing between one another, Moriarty jumped into his house, laughing. “Then come on in, mates, come on in. The show has started, yeah?”