“Honestly, James.”
Xavier walked brusquely ahead of Jim, evidently livid.
“You said that that would be our final proper conversation. And what was that? You obviously knew I would be there.”
“No, Xavier.” Jim strolled along tranquilly. “I didn’t.”
Xavier scoffed vehemently and whirled around to stare at his adversary. “And you honestly expect me to believe that?”
“Of course I do not, Magician. And I don’t wish you to either, since this was planned by me, entirely. It was to play with you and to test you a little.”
“You do a terrible job at proprietor, James.”
“No, the puppet-master of a show simply tugs and manipulates the strings and unless you have not noticed, this is precisely what is going on.” Jim rolled his neck and stared at Xavier, inscrutable. “And for your information, Xavier, a proper meeting encompasses the awareness of both sides on the matter of such meeting.” Jim came a little closer to Xavier and hummed, “And last time, you were very aware of my presence, weren’t you?”
Xavier didn’t answer. Jim released a low, menacing chuckle and scrutinised his ‘friend’.
“You’re such a sentimental creature, Xavier and it is truly the most comical thing ever that you try to detach yourself.” Jim dropped his light, amused facade and hissed, “You can’t.”
Xavier’s lip trembled involuntarily as he stared at the villain in front of him.
“If Sherlock Holmes can do it, why can’t I?” By this time, Jim was already pacing circles around Xavier and smirking in his mocking derisory.
“Thing is, Xavier, you’re not Sherlock Holmes.”
This was the thing about Moriarty that Xavier hated so much: his devious ways. Jim was the spider of a glimmering spiderweb, a connection of strings spun from glinting dewdrops, some more important than others, some only there for decor. One by one, the water droplets would be shaken off. One by one, they would be eliminated.
“Your strings are snapping slowly, painfully, without a pause, Xavier. And I’m wondering… How long will you last?”
It was only a matter of time that Jim shook him from the web, and then, he would splatter, and be gone.
“But I think the more important question for you…” Xavier closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, forbidding the next words to reach his ears.
“...how long will little Chesca’s last?”
YOU ARE READING
Book I : Fantàsticque :: The Estranged Trilogie ::: A Sherlock Fanfiction
FanfictionWhat you think is true, is definitely, most certainly not true. It could be half true; your mind could even be playing tricks on you. It might not be the truth at all. For all you know. Enter Francesca Dela-Cruz Arlington. She's a high stakes poker...
