Aristocrats of Evil

5

"I require your assistance," Ciel stated.  

"Oh?" Moriarty placed the book in his hands down. 

"Under normal circumstances, I would go undercover but considering you are so readily available with no ties to this world..." Ciel smiled a tad. "I'm sure you can understand what I mean." 

"What am I sneaking into?" Moriarty asked. 

"Sebastian will fill you in later," Ciel pressed his fingers against each other and rested them on the table. "There is something happening on this horrid vessel." 

"Indeed," Moriarty nodded. "But, I don't believe I will need to attend the meeting in your place." 

"Oh?" Ciel stared. 

"I think the secrets to what may take place on this ship lurk underneath it. I intend to go down and check for myself." 

"What makes you think that?" 

"Well," Moriarty held his chin with his hand. "I am not quite certain how to put this but I think re-" the words he was about to say were trapped in the back of his throat. Similar to the time in which he tried to tell Ciel of what happened in his own England. Did this have something to do with knowledge Ciel wasn't allowed to know in advance? Did he have to figure these things out on his own?

"You...?" Ciel stared. 

Moriarty sighed and shook his head. "How about this then...are you acquainted with gods of death?" 

"The reapers?" Ciel's eyebrows furrowed.

"Specifically, are you acquainted with a reaper that has reason to harm a large group of people at any point in time?" 

"What are you suggesting?" 

"I am suggesting," Moriarty placed his finger down on the table, pointing at it. "That this would be a perfect place to experiment on human lives since the evidence would wash away should the boat...tragically become damaged." 

"You don't thin-" Ciel's voice trailed off but Moriarty was no longer paying attention to it. He stood up abruptly. 

"I apologize but I have to go." 

"What?! Go where? It's a boat!" Ciel snapped. Moriarty paid him no heed and wandered off in the direction that he'd witnessed someone familiar go. Try as he might, he wasn't certain if his eyes were playing tricks on him or if-

"So it was you..." a voice spoke from behind him and grabbed his mouth, pulling him into the closet. "Don't scream," he said, removing his hand. Though there was not an exceptional amount of light in this area, Moriarty was still able to see the face of his captor upon turning around. 

"Mr. Holmes?" Moriarty squinted, with only one eye working properly it was difficult to detect. His vision was only getting worse. "Did your hair get longer?" 

"I lost my only hair tie in the fall- but why can't you recognize me?" 

"It's not that I can't recognize you..." Moriarty leaned closer to his face to try and see him. "It's dark in here and my eyesight has gotten rather weak." 

"Did you injure your eye?" 

"Not exactly..." 

"Wait, I'm getting off track," Sherlock grabbed Moriarty's shoulders. "I need to show you something-" he moved his hand down Moriarty's arm and grabbed his wrist, dragging him into the depths of the closet. The more they walked, the more Moriarty assumed they would hit a dead end, and instead...the path continued. He didn't know where Sherlock was taking him but the overpowering stench of death gave him some insight. When they'd turned the last corner Moriarty was overwhelmed by the smell. He covered his nose with his hand and leaned up against the wall for support. 

"What is this..." Moriarty asked. 

Sherlock walked toward one of the crates and pulled it open, revealing the bodies stacked inside. Stitched up like the monstrosities they were. "Someone has been playing God, I assume." 

"You mean..." Moriarty coughed and inhaled a short breath. "In a Victor Frankenstein sort of way?" Sherlock nodded and Moriarty laughed. 

"What?" the detective frowned. 

"Nothing, sorry, I'm just amazed that you would have read a book such as that." 

"It was relevant to a case," Sherlock huffed and crossed his arms. "And it's a good thing I did skim it because otherwise, I wouldn't have understood your reference. I can't have you outsmarting me, Liam," he chuckled. 

"Why are you here, Mr. Holmes?" Moriarty finally asked the question. "Why did you..." 

"Jump in after you?" 

Moriarty nodded. 

"Because, like it or not," Sherlock pointed to him. "You are my friend. Of course, I would try to save you from your own foolishness!" Sherlock inhaled a deep breath and exhaled slowly, placing his hands on his hips he returned his attention to the crate. "Although I would love to slap you with your idiocy regarding that situation...I believe the present matter is more urgent." 

The floor shook beneath them and the crates began to topple over. Sherlock lept forward and pushed Moriarty out of the way. The two witnessed one of the deceased creatures come to life. "My cane..." Moriarty pointed and shoved Sherlock off. Sherlock rolled over to it and threw it back to Moriarty. He pulled the sword out of his cane and pointed it at the monster. Instinct alone provided him with the answer to his question. How does one kill such a thing as this? With a few quick movements of his hidden weapon...Moriarty was able to render the creature immobile. 

"What...is this?" Ribbons of what appeared to be film flew out of the body. Moriarty witnessed the entirety of this individual's life until..." 

"It's that man!" Moriarty pointed. "He is doing this!" 

"Who? What?" Sherlock stood up and followed Moriarty's finger. "Have you lost your mind? What are you talking about?" 

Moriarty covered his reaper eye to see if the records were still flowing in his normal one. "You can't see it..." 

"Can't see what?" 

"The cinematic record. I wonder...is Ciel also unable to? Or is it because..." 

"If you're seeing something I can't then it must be because I'm not supposed to be in this world," Sherlock answered for him. "Quite frankly, neither are you...so there is something happening to you based on this world's rules that is different from ours." 

"Strange," Moriarty sighed. How was Sebastian able to use his demonic powers in their universe then? Was it because the rules couldn't constrict him? "Wait, say that again." 

"Say what? Something must be happening to you based on this world's rules?" 

"This world's rules...then my assumption might be correct." 

"Now I know how John feels," Sherlock grumbled. "Can you elaborate without me having to ask 'what' all the time?" 

"Tell me, Sherly, do you believe in gods of death?" Moriarty smirked and began walking. 

"Wh- hey!" Sherlock's jaw dropped, chasing after him. "Since when do you call me 'Sherly'?!"