Like a Scene from a Play

Prologue/Introduction

What is this? What is cold, icy nothingness? What is apathy, if there's nothing underneath?

Is it called being a psychopath? A sociopath? I'd assume so. There's a fine line between 'crazy' and 'lunatic' and I walk it every day. Though I know which side my mentor is on. He is truly insane. A psychopath. And, apparently, proud of it.

"Ooh, look, poor Shirly couldn't save that one." "Did you see the fear on his face? On both their faces? Ohhhohohoho! Priceless!" "Come on! Did you really have to let that MORON call me? I was in the middle of something!" The list goes on and on, of things my mentor has said to me. Somehow, he values my thoughts, ideas, and praise, probably more than anyone else. Except for the praise of Sherlock Holmes. I always ask my mentor, "Do you love Sherlock?" And he always replies with a girlish giggle. "My dear, if I did, would I really be trying to kill him? No, love, I don't... love him. Admire, yes, but never love. You and I both know that I am incapable of love." And he would saunter away, before I can respond. Before I can say "That's wrong. You love me. Or, at the very least, you care a lot about me. You care so much about me that you have hidden me from the sights of Sherlock. I am your pressure point. I am your child, the one you adopted ten years ago, and raised to be your protege. The one person you saved." And he is so much more than just my mentor. I could never call him 'Dad', but maybe that is compensated for in the way that I never use 'Mr. Moriarty'. And he will never call me his child, though maybe that is compensated for in the way that he gave me a new last name, ten years ago.

My name is Cameron Hamish Moriarty, and I am about to find a new line to walk, the one between 'good' and 'evil', because "Every fairytale needs a good old fashioned villain".