The Side of The Angels (A Sherlock Holmes Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Eight: Burn

~~~Claudia~~~

It's been days. It's been days and I haven't eaten, haven't showered, nothing. I'd been unconcious for most of it, the only thing I could reccolect from my moments of conciousness being my blind food. And now my feet are wet...and in shackles attatched to the floor...the bottom of a pool. If I had to guess, the same pool Carl Powers was killed in.

"You can remove your blind fold now." His voice sent a shiver down my spine. I used to love that voice. I reached up, untying the cloth from my eyes. As I did so, I removed my bobby pin from my hair, pressing it into my hand. My feet are shackled to a chain, tied toa  cinder block at the bottle of the pool. I would need to pick the lock undoubtedly. "We ahve John Watson as well. You will repeat everything I say or they will kill him."  I heard the door open. "Don't look up until he addresses you. Then repeat after me."

"Brought you a little getting to know you present. That's what it's all been for, isn't it? Claudia?" His voice filled my ear again.

"it was quite clever wasn't it." I said,  running my fingers over the water. "My act of selflessnes. I got away quietly and no one suspected a thing." I looked up at him now. "You were so easy to fool."

"What?" He asked.

"I just so happened to show up as all this was going on? Have a connection to the bomber, a connection to Carl and nobody suspected a thing. But I couldn't have done it alone, of course." JOhn stepped out wearing a gigantic coat. His ahnds were in his pockets.

"Evening." He greeted. "This is a turn-up isn't it Sherlock."

"John...Claudia...waht the-"

"Bet you never saw this coming." He started walking towards us. John opened his coat and I stood up, revealing the shackles and the chain.

'What would you like me to make them say next?" I repeated, looking at Sherlock with desperate eyes.

"Gottle 'o gear." John repeated, "Gottle 'o gear. Gottle 'o gear."

"Stop it." Sherlock commanded.

"Nice touch this, the pool."  I swollowed.

"Where little Carl died." I whispered. "I stopped him...I can stop John Watson and Claudia Lestrade too."

"Stop their hearts."

"Who are you?" Sherlock called. I heared the door opened and i winced, fear welling up in my chest.

"I gave you my number. I thought you might call." He stepped out of the shadows, allowing us to see him. Mark...also known as Jim Moriarty. "is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?"

"Both." Sherlock said, lifting the gun.

"Jim Moriarty. Hi." I shudered. "Jim? Jim from the hospital? Huh...did I really make such a fleeting impression?  But then I suppose, taht was rather the point. Or maybe you would know me better as Mark, Clever Claudia's dead fiance. " Sherlock looked at the red dot on John's chest, then back at Moriarty, as he walked around the pool towards us. "Don't be silly, someone else is holding the rifle. I don't like getting my hands dirty. I've given you a glimpse, Sherlock. Just a teensy glimpse of what I've got going on out there in the big bad world. I'm a specialist, you see. Like you."

"Dear Jim," Sherlock lamented, "please will you fix it for me  to get rid of my lover's nasty sister? Dear Jim, please will you fix it for me to disappear to South America?"

"Just so."

"Consulting Criminal. Just Brilliant."

"Isn't it?" He stopped right beside me, causing my heart to jump into my throat. "No one ever gets to me. And no one ever will."Sherlock cocked his gun.