It is night.
I, the great Sherlock Holmes, am dying.
My eyes are open, and I stare into the sky with an open, beating heart.The void opens its mouth to swallow the sun whole, leaving a path of bright stars in its wake. I lie, watching the darkness descend upon the world.
Cyanide is a force to be reckoned with, I think, tiredly.
As the universe languidly closes her eyes, so do I, drifting into a dusky silence. Screaming will not help me now. Nothing can only come from nothing, as Mycroft always says, so the dark isnt anything to be afraid of. I can leave without goodbye.
But John will be afraid. He has nothing to hide. John Watson is a pure heart, a pink, unsullied ribbon among the many tatters and tears of 221B Baker Street.
So I must not leave now.
YOU ARE READING
The Completely True Story of Nothing
Fiksi PenggemarSherlock Holmes is slowly dying of cyanide poisoning, given to him by his only enemy, Jim Moriarty. His last thoughts are only of his brother, Mycroft, and his friend, John.