Cordelia is a good hacker. It allowed my father to get secrets from other companies and rise to the top of the business world. It allowed her to find us several places the corporate assassin was. Sherlock narrowed it down to one house, empty and old, in East London. Definitely not going to go well. I thought to myself.
"What's wrong?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.
"Nothing. Suddenly you're concerned about my wellbeing?" I ask as I slam the car door of the taxi. Sherlock shakes his head.
"Don't flatter yourself, Holly." I point to the already slightly ajar door to the one story house in front of us, smirking. "That's what's wrong." He turns and we step inside the house. My hand clicks the safety off of the gun inside my coat pocket. The cedar wood planks creak as we get further into the house.
An incredible layed of dust had settled over everything. Glass crunched beneath my boots.
That's when the smell hit me.
~
"Oh god." There was a dead man on the floor. A scar that traced delicately across his mouth in a large smile. Blood on the walls read-
Ready or Not. Here I Come.
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H.Heart~ Moral Compass
RandomEveryone has a moral compass different from one another. Each different. When one learns how to twist that compass, program in to a skewed world view, you have truly learned how the world ticks. It's pretty obvious.
