Making a deal with devils - William James Moriarty x OC

Chapter 18 - The Two Detectives (and the Lady) Act 1

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"In a completely sane world, madness is the only freedom." – J. G. Ballard
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"To what end? Why create such an elaborate plan?" Sherlock asks.

"You're a man who seeks mysteries. As such, the answer is a matter of course. You want to know who it is that can create the ultimate mystery, don't you? So shoot me! Do that and you'll-" Hope replied before being cut off by a shot firing.

However, the shot hit Hope in the chest. Thus causing him to fall backwards and die.

Sherlock jolted upright, breathing erratic as he placed a hand over his eyes upon realising it was just a nightmare.

Watson, on the other hand, was in his room, writing at his desk*.

"Thanks to the paper splashing the news that Sherlock had caught Drebber's true killer, his renown as a detective leapt to prominence. Ever since, we have had many visitors here at 221B Baker Street, and Sherlock has solve each case they brought to him, one after another1. However, whilst his fame as a detective has risen, I have found him looking glum and brooding more and more frequently." Watson wrote.

"This is so dreary. How did things end up this way?" Sherlock said as he was lying on the sofa while Watson walked past carrying a pile of books.

"The riddles that you seek keep coming to you nonstop. I should think you have nothing to complain about." Watson replied.

Sherlock then slammed his fist against the back of the sofa, startling Watson slightly before he replied to his comment.

"These sorts of banal mysteries are not what I seek!" Sherlock replied.

"Banal?" Watson repeated.

"I want to solve a much bigger mystery. The one who left my name at a crime scene and dared me to solve the mystery of Drebber's murder, and the one who had someone send me a telegram to solve a series of murders with information in two envelopes- the mastermind whom the true killer, Hope, referred to as his benefactor. And the other lad who also had a benefactor. I want to reveal who they are and what objective they hold." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock..." Watson spoke.

"Leave me to myself for a while." Sherlock asked.

"All right." Watson replied, turning and taking his leave.

Sherlock then proceeded to sit up on the sofa he was previously lying on and lighting a cigarette he had previously rolled before blowing the smoke out into the room.

"During the case on the Noahtic, there was a mastermind who set up Enders. There was another mastermind who had another man rigged to the ceiling with his misdeeds scattered on the stage. And Drebber's killer, Hope, had someone who carefully planned out the crime for him. Shortly after, another lad also happened to have someone plan out the crimes for them." Sherlock thought to himself.

Resting the cigarette on the ledge of his ashtray, he picked up his Stradivarius2 violin and began to play a piece he knew by memory.

"Sherlock Holmes. I've heard about you. Would you care to make a deal with me? If you accept my proposal, I'll let you in on a secret. About the one who plotted out Drebber's murder from start to finish, and even directed me as to how to pull it off- my benefactor." He could hear Hope's voice tell him.

He continued to play the Stradivarius violin while still hearing Hope's voice.

"My benefactor holds you in high esteem. Enough to leave your name at the scene- to see if you can solve the case. Yes, indeed. My benefactor truly is amazing. When I arrived at Drebber's mansion at the appointed time, the door opened as if by magic, and there was not a soul around to interfere. A true criminal genius." Hope's voice continued.