SHERLOCK I, II, III & IV • #wattys2016

alive

On the rocky banks of the Thames River laid a young man with straw blond hair and even features. His eyes were closed, his mouth was open. The water struck his body, moving him further up the bank. A breeze rushed over him, bringing him to life. Two steel blues eyes looked out on the world. As if he was frightened to be on earth, he shoved himself off the ground and stood on his wobbly legs. Blinking, he whispered in a raspy voice, “Simon?” He took two unbalanced steps and said in a clearer voice, “Simon?”

“He’s not here, Charlie” came a startling voice behind him.

As if being unconscious had reprogrammed the boy to be superhuman, Charlie threw an arm behind him and caught the aggressive fist aimed for his head. He stared at his enemy and knew exactly who he was. Andrew Brooklyn.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Andrew cooed, sending another punch that Charlie deflected.

“What did you do to Simon?”

“I did nothing. But I will when I find him. Him and his friends!’ Andrew lifted himself in the air and sent a roundhouse kick that met Charlie in the side of the head.

Charlie stumbled backwards, winced, and returned the kick with a powerful snap of his foot. Andrew struck the ground, rolled, and entered the water. Seeing a fine opportunity to kill the enemy, Charlie raced forward and plunged Andrew’s face into the water. The body twisted, kicked, and floundered underneath the young Garner’s hands. For a moment, he stuck his head out of the water and heaved in the air. Charlie shoved him back under. The body jerked again and flung over, releasing two opponents in the form of hands. Andrew grabbed Charlie’s arms and flipped him over into the water. Charlie scrambled to his feet and caught Andrew by the foot, pulling him back into the current.

“I know the code!” Charlie shouted.

Andrew stopped and looked down at the boy. “What?”

“I know the code, we tricked you. Sherlock and Aceyla have no codes. They were decoys so that Simon and I could get in.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because either way, we’re going to bust this case open, and you’re going to lose. I’m just giving you a head start.”

Grinning, Andrew kicked Charlie in the face. “Tell Sherlock that Aceyla works for me!”

Charlie tumbled into the water, grabbed a rock, and hurled it at Andrew. It struck the man in the face, sending blood into the air. Andrew fell down, giving Charlie enough time to get to his feet and tackle him. Once he was upon him, Charlie beat him until he went unconscious. When he saw he wouldn’t get up, he searched his pockets and found a gun, a phone, and a black notebook. Sitting down beside the body, Charlie flipped through the notebook. On one page was a map and plans on how to get into the Westminster. On another page appeared to be a diary entry. He read it, terrified with every word.

My purpose in life is destroy all good human beings. It’s not from a destroyed childhood have I come to this, but by my choice. I’m writing this in case anyone questions my motives. I have no guilt in such a decision, these days, everything is accepted and the grey line between right and wrong has become so large that it’s up to the individual to decide that on their own. We don’t need law books or an authority figure to decide that for us. As humans, we are free to think and decide, regardless of what others think. We’ve been following a system built to make us all the same. I’ve found my own route. And though it may be killing, it’s still a freedom I believe we’re all capable to have. It’s a choice covered by fear. It’s an art shielded by a canvas called ‘good.’

I killed Alana Watson because my dream said so. I remember seeing a map in my head, leading me to where I will find her. Why did I? Why out all the people, I killed Alana? Simple. She was innocent to what she could experience. She was a pure specimen with royal blood and goodness infecting her soul. She needed to know more. She needed to see more. That’s the problem with being ‘good.’ You’re limited to what your body and mind can tolerate. I remember when I killed her. It was sweet, gory, and nightmarish. The worse kill I’ve ever made or imagined. I was at first afraid to touch her, but I had to break down the moral wall and just destroy her. The men I hired didn’t seem to mind killing her, so I had to be the leader and believe it what I was supposed to do.