Moments after my brother left, me still staring at the place the cab once was, Sherlock and Watson ran. They looked a little out of breath.
"What were you think running off like that?! You scared us, you know." Watson scolded me. I wasn't paying attention. I was in my own little world. I was snapped back into reality by Sherlock waving his hand in front of my face.
"Something you'd like to tell us?" Sherlock asked. I looked at him confused.
"Can't you find out by deduction?" I ask.
"No. For some reason I can't deduce you. Your not the girl at the airport. I can now tell that the past that I deduced was a fake. What I'd like to know is why. Care to explain?" He replied. My eyes widened in shock. He nows it's a fake, but he can't deduce my real past? That's strange for Sherlock Holmes. I shrug,turn around, and head towards my flat.
"There is one more thing. Why was Mrs. Hudson picture at the crime scene?" Watson asks. I freeze. I know why. I don't want to tell anyone though. Look behind me and see my brother behind Watson, who was closer to the door.
"You touch him, and you will regret it." I growl at my brother. Sherlock and Watson turn around to see my brother with a knife in his hand. I glare at him while everyone backs away from him. He start to laugh.
"Ahhh. My sweet little sister. Why are you so mad? I'm only trying to protect you from the big bad world." He says in mock sadness. He takes a step forward. While everyone takes a step back, I step forward. "Aren't you scared, (y/n)?" He taunts.
"Why would I be?" I ask.
"Well, considering you refused to tell the police that I was the killer when you where 8, I would guess that your scared." He says. I clench my hands I to fists. I wanted to keep that in the past.
"That doesn't mean I'm scared now. What do you want? Why do you do this?" I ask. He just laughs.
"I don't want my little sister to get hurt. Especially by boys." He says, the last part directed at Sherlock and Watson. I walk towards him and hold out my hand. He hands me the knife and turns around. I give the knife to Sherlock and cuff my brother. I lean in and whisper in his ear.
"What are you planing. I know you wouldn't give yourself up so easily, so why?" I ask him. He chuckles and shakes his head.
"Haven't you figured it out already? I came to warn you. I have something that you will want. A note. A hint accually. My back left pocket. Inside an envolope is a piece of paper. Keep it. It will prove that I'm not the killer." He said.
"Then why did you call me telling your the killer?" I ask, while reaching into his back,left pocket and retreaving an envolope.
"I didn't. I said you knew, or know, the killer. Not that I was the killer."
"You said 'was'." I point out.
"Yes. I killed the first person, but only to inform you that I'm watching. The other death wasn't by me." I stare at him in bewilderment. I turn him around to see a straight, serious face. I knew he wasn't lying. I had to find this copy cat killer. Or at least go insane trying.
