LIKE SUN AND MOON | Sherlock x Fictional Character

7 - In the Moonlight

A small, slim figure moved among the shadows through the garden into the direction of the house. She had a knife in her hand and a mission to accomplish. She hid her thick, red curls, under the dark hood of her sweatshirt. Black leggings and heavy boots completed her look.

She looked around carefully but saw nobody in the moonlight. She ran up to the building, hiding in the shadows of tall trees. She reached the window and started to open it gently, trying not to make any noise, when she was interrupted by a low male voice that rang out behind her, making her almost jump up.

'I'd suggest you don't do it.'

She turned around and saw a tall and thin man in a coat, and a woman almost a head shorter standing next to him. If it weren't for the fact that they had just caught her in the act, she would have laughed. Their silhouettes look almost comical in the moonlight.

'Cause what? She hissed, regaining her voice and courage.

'Because you will regret it.' Amber took a step toward her, but the woman put her knife warningly in front of her.

'They have abandoned me. 'Margaret whispered loudly. 'They abandoned me! They didn't want me! Now they will pay for it!'

'They did it for your sake. They wanted you to be happy. That's why they gave you to another family.'

Tears appeared in the girl's eyes and she lowered the knife slightly, but the anger did not leave her face.

'They did not love me! They didn't love and didn't want to! I was a burden to them...'

Amber knelt by her side and stroked her gently on the shoulder.

'They loved you so much that they put your happiness above their own.'

Margaret lowered her gaze, and a single twisted strand of hair fell on her face.

'Why don't you talk to them instead of killing them?' Amber suggested.

'You wouldn't kill them with that knife anyway.' Sherlock interjected 'It's an ordinary kitchen knife.'

Amber turned angrily to the detective.

'Don't listen to him. He was never a teenage girl, you know... Will you go and talk to them?'

The girl raised her eyes, her gaze filling up with anger again.

'Never...' She howled and swung the knife.

Amber jumped back, surprised, but she was not fast enough. The tip of the knife slashed her cheek, making blood run down her fair complexion.

The teenager swung the knife again, but inaccurately (she was inexperienced in using weapons, and her rage further hindered her from making accurate cuts). Amber dodged. This enraged Margaret even more. She began to attack her opponent fiercely and with even greater force, panting heavily. Amber was gracefully dodging her cuts but did not fight back.

The lights in the house came on. 

'Are you having a good time?' Somewhat angry Amber asked Sherlock who was still standing next to them, watching, but with no intention of helping her.

'I've seen more interesting duels in my life, thank you.'

Margaret threw herself at Amber aiming a knife at her stomach, but the girl dodged and knocked the knife out of her hand. It fell to the dark grass, disappearing into the darkness.

The teenager looked at her for a moment, trying to calm her breathing, and then fell to the ground, flooded with tears, right next to the surprised Sherlock.

Amber wiped her cheek clean of blood.

'Thanks for your help.'

'You were doing just fine. I didn't mean to disturb you.'

He looked at the tearful Margaret.

'Teenagers...'

Amber looked at him angrily, moonlight reflecting in her hazel eyes.

'Are you suggesting something? Come on, you'd better help me explain everything to her parents. And you need to notify Lestrade that we have found the lost girl.'

***

Meanwhile, in the north part of the city in a small one-bedroom apartment, someone turned on the light. A slender man stretched and sat on the bed, slipping his feet into slippers.

He looked at the phone, sent a text message, then wandered into the kitchen. He passed a small table cluttered with plans and papers and reached into the refrigerator. He found what he was looking for, between a package of cottage cheese and someone's liver. He closed the refrigerator and stood at the window, admiring the night skyline of London and sighed.

The game was about to begin.