Paths Woven

Spray Paint

"Idiot." I grunt. Now Elly was on the floor and I had a gun pressed against my head. Didn't it occur to her that Moriarty would just shoot me even after she had been shot? What kind of a kid would take a bullet for...

Wait, no. Was I starting to... No. Not again. This needs to stop. I mask my features into indifference, a blank face that rewards Moriarty after Elly has fallen. Idiot.

"Well, well." Moriarty chuckles. Then his attention turns back to me. "It was you the whole time, wasn't it?"

I feel it - death. It is a familiar smell by this time. I feel it, lurking at my feet, crawling up my arm. I can feel it in the gun pressed against my throat, claustrophobia tearing at my brain, threatening to let loose in a single scream.

"Scarlet Holmes." Moriarty states.

But there is the villain's mistake. In my name, a hidden message lurks - in my name, there is the key. Scarlet Holmes - Scarlet Schloss Holmes. Scarlet Castlelock Holmes.

With a single blink, I take a mental picture of my surroundings. Immediately, I retreat into myself, place the picture upon a frame, and study it. At first I see nothing, but then I take the picture, hologram it, and zoom in on Moriarty. I see a reflection in his dead eyes - he is positioned exactly right so I can see the flaw in his planning. I am free.

But why am I free? Adjusting the picture, I see a device in his hand - too late, I sharply intake my breath as the burn came into contact with my arm, and again resisting a scream as waves of pain attack me.

My non-burned arm somehow finds itself inside my jacket pocket, where I had earlier placed my tiny bottles of spray paint.

"Any last words?" Moriarty asks me, clicking the gun.

"What's your favorite color?" I smirk.

As he processes the unexpected question, I withdraw my hand and spray his hair completely pink. As Elly mumbles something incoherently, I say "yeah, yeah" and scoop her up.

I spray Moriarty with a few more colors, watch him dance around, and look for an exit. The only thing I see is a window, on the opposite side of the room - and it's closed.

"Did you honestly think spray paint would stop me?" Moriarty coughs, straightening up. "What will you do now?"

I stare at him. "Look in the mirror, hon."

He turns and stares at himself, assorted with pink, blue, white, and other various colors. He turns around and glares at me, just to be hit in the face with a bowling ball.

He crumples like - well, like someone who's just been hit with a bowling ball. It was a small bowling ball, because I can't pick up the big ones, but it was still a bowling ball, and he was still unconscious.

"Sorry, big boy." I say, lifting him up on my shoulders. "This'll hurt."

Trudging over to the window, I judo flip him through it. The window shatters, and Jim Moriarty falls two stories into the bushes. I shake Elly.

"C'mon. It's time we leave this place - it stinks." For good measure, I spray a purple S onto the wall.