James Moriarty - The Devil's Descendant

Chapter 11

What is in your world? Perhaps it's your family, your friends, your work. Just you on your own. Whatever your world might be it is the familiarity of loving something to the point that is all your world will ever be to you.

Moriarty had only ever had his criminal world in his life until Aella came into his life. Her blood soaking the back of his expensive suit jacket, his hair coming to the front of his face. He had not cut it in a while, making it the longest it had ever been, it was medium-long, slicked back, with textured waves to it, volume encompassing its black glory.

As he ran, the waves bounced with the small amount of gel he had used in his hair. Whilst it would not suit some men, it suited James. It looked rather perfect for him, making others look menial in comparison to his hair Perhaps it was his dark features his daughter inherited that made it all the more so worthwhile. 

Taking her through the streets of London, her hair swayed behind him in the wind. At the rate she was losing blood, she would have none left in her body. The skin was pulsating rapidly to provide oxygen to the body, that was what it seemed like. There was nothing else it could possibly be. 

After all the adrenaline that had been pumped through her bodies blood, it was now dampening down like a fire blanking being tossed over the burning wreck to ease the blow. 

Originally, her pain had not been felt all that much, but it was now feeling like ten thousand people stabbing her innocence, not wanting to stop hurting her till she understood what it was she was needing to face. 

Enough time was passing, too much time in fact. Running through a field of flowers after a rainstorm, with a rainbow in the sky, dancing around in the luscious grass was something she would be incapable of doing for a long time.

James now understood that the relationship between Alina and Aella was one of a very complex nature he had not known before. Either that, or he was blind to the relationship he had with Sherlock Holmes. 

Day and night, she relinquished her thoughts from out of her mind till they dissipated. Solving all the problems that she could to stop her incessant worrying from overcoming her powerless body, mind, heart and soul. Everything that she was being put through was something called emotional and physical trouble that she had no power of stopping or even attempting to control. The thick clots of blood were starting to form after the blood had been continually emanating from the wound. Sometimes it just takes one small wound to end your life, and this could be hers. 

However, the gunshot was unheard of. Unless, Alina had used a silencer on the gun to stop the shot from being heard. A very elegant thing from her point of view. Perhaps she had gone one step too far by shooting the daughter of Moriarty. Yet, she seemed so afraid of Aella.  She had run as far as she could to escape her. So, what was it that he was not being told? 

Upon reaching Baker Street, he opened the door to the building of apartments, letting his daughter down off of his back. He knew that he was unable to leave her on her own just in case something bad was to happen to her while he turned his back for one second. So, he debated what he would do.

"Go and get Sherlock!"

"No, if I leave you who knows what will happen,"

"I will be fine, I need a gun, I used all of your shots from the other gun," he handed her his spare gun, which she checked for bullets. "Thank you."

James moved up the stairs carefully, looking down at his hands now they were in the light. They were completely covered in blood, sweat and tears. Knocking on the door left a small amount of blood on the wood, it dripped down slowly, with some small bits of the dried blood crumbling off of his skin slowly, yet painfully. Replicating a minor version of his daughter's pain. 

"Hello!" Sherlock called from inside, waiting for someone to open the door to come in.

"Sherlock," James opened the door, giving both Sherlock and John a fright when they saw the bloodstains dripping down his white, formal shirt. "It's Aella, she has been shot."

Sherlock closed his book, turning his attention to John, giving him the look. As soon as he clocked on, he went to the bathroom to grab any medical items they had. John was always the one who had the medical speciality, especially with being an army doctor, he was well trained in these areas. 

"Can you see the bullet?" John called from the bathroom, with no reply, for James was back downstairs sitting by his daughter. 

Sherlock kneeled beside Aella to view the wound and assess the situation with the injury. 

"Who did this?" she averted her attention from anywhere but his eyes. "Who did this to you?"

James knew who, Sherlock was clearly oblivious until he met James Moriarty's eyes hoping for an explanation. 

"Go on Sherlock, you are the brains,"

"Fine, John can give his medical opinion after," they all waited for Sherlock to tell them what had happened, without needing the specific from Aella. She looked at the ground in disappointment with herself. Sherlock straightened out his suit jacket, itching the tip of his nose. "Alina is back, isn't she? You two were friends and then you had a domestic, a boring sort, but it angered her because she found out that you were in love with someone she loved too much she did not want to start letting you have leeway. However, if you love him then she has a strong affection for this man. I know Alina, that is why she shot you, to hope to goodness no one would find you and help you. But, I promise Miss Moriarty, we will do our utmost to get this bullet out of you and Doctor Watson will be very much able to do so without having to take you to a public medical facility. This wound should be salvageable, she just missed your organs, thankfully. Her aim is off. We will carry you up the stairs to remove the bullet, Lestrade needs to come over."

"Lestrade?" she looked at Sherlock, her eyes were wide with terror and shock, not anticipating he would be able to deduce her so well.

"He is a friend of ours, he will be able to help you," 

"Okay." 

Grabbing her fathers hand, he took it slightly and then held it between both of his, looking down on his daughter with great affection. 

"Everything will be okay now."

She stings and she burns like that of a flame,

Everything in life is always a game,

It takes one to no one and kills like Moriarty,

Blood fests and murder sprees are always their forms of the party.