Sherlock Holmes and The New Detective

The Reunion

Sherlock played his violin as Emma walked through his door. He immediately stopped, having to talk to her in quiet whispers.

"Are you ready?" she asked him.

"Yes. Are you?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." She checked her watch again. "He should be here in fifteen minutes."

Sherlock had a strange look on his face.

"Sherlock, what's the problem?"

A mans voice came from the shadows of the hallway. "Maybe he's already come", the man said.

Emma stopped. Stopped talking, stopped walking, even stopped breathing.

"And, if you do mind me asking", the man spoke again. "Ready for what?"

"You want to know what I'm ready for...", Emma spoke. "Daniel?"

Daniel stepped out of the shadows. He was a tall figure with messy blond hair, fudge brown eyes, and lips that curled up, but not in a happy way. His shoulders jutted out, he would've been a great football player, and his legs were slightly bent, almost completely stiff. He stood tall, knowing that he was smarter than everyone else, but slightly shrugged because of Emma's last comment. He seemed more annoyed than curious. "How did you figure it out?"

"You messed up. I'm also insanely smart."

"Sorry to break up this reunion", Sherlock spoke. "This is your friend you were talking about?"

"You were talking about me?" Daniel smiled.

"Oh, shut up", Emma told him.

"Just tell me, how did I mess up?"

"My name wasn't always Mingrove. It was Peters, but then my mom died, so I took her last name. No one knows that. And, even though I have a tattoo on my wrist with my initials, it isn't legally changed to Mingrove. If you looked up my file, it would still be Peters."

"That could be anyone", Daniel said, questioning her. "Any of your friends who maybe got drunk one too many times, even your mom before she died could've given something away."

Emma ignored his last statement. "Yes, well, that was only mistake one. Mistake two was how you faked your death and how you killed the others. Sherlock examined who you killed and saw all the similarities. They both had some sort of connection to someone with a disability. You never did care for others that much."

"So you couldn't do it yourself, Emma?"

"I'm sorry", Emma took off her coat. "I was put in hiding for a whole week. Would've been weird if the hermit came out and did anything exciting."

"Well then today's your lucky day." Daniel took a gun out of his pocket and threw it to Emma, who caught it. "I know you have good aim, I trained you."

Emma and Daniel were in the shooting range.

"If you hold the gun like this", he went behind her and showed her. "You'll have a better chance of shooting your target."

"That's why you always wanted to go to the shooting range", Emma recalled.

"I wasn't stupid. I've been planning this for years."

"Why?" Emma asked him. "Shouldn't you have been able to plan this in a few days? I thought you weren't stupid."

Daniel walked over to her, as close as a couple would be right before they kissed. He grabbed her face. "I thought you weren't either."

Sherlock gently put his violin down and quietly went up behind Daniel to try and knock him down. Daniel quickly turned and punched him square in the nose, making Sherlock fall to the ground, blood going all over his face and neck.

"Now you know what happens when you try something funny", he walked behind her, putting his arms around her waist. "Remember when we did this, Emma? I'm sure you want to do it with your friend over there", he gestured towards Sherlock.

"I don't have feelings for Sherlock Holmes", she said. She did feel bad for him being there on the floor, though, feelings or not. Daniel let go of her waist and kneeled down beside Sherlock, pulling his head up by his hair.

"So now you choose, Emma", Daniel said, looking at Sherlock. "Yourself or him."

Emma looked at the gun in her hand and then pointed it at Sherlock. Tears started filling her eyes. She made the tears stop and let the gun dangle toward the ground by her feet."What if I don't choose? What if I just leave the gun?"

"I faked my own death, I'm sure I would be able to kill you both, pin it on you, and walk out with no scars. I know what it is like being a hermit, but I also love the rush in killing. So now Emma, you choose. One life or two."

She looked over at Sherlock, who mouthed the words, 'you have to.'

Tears filled her eyes again as she pointed the gun back towards Sherlock. "I'm sorry", she whispered, and shot.

Bang. Just like in the recordings.

Except this isn't a recording, this is real life, and if she could stop it, she definitely would. The body that limply lay in front of her made her sick. In a recording, you wouldn't see that, you would only hear it. But like she already found out, this isn't a recording. This is real life.