The Virgin

Introduction

I stared blankly at the flustered figure cowering above me. Clueless. I felt the warm scarlet blood ooze from its disguised disintegrating packet, after tearing at the point of impact with the solid, gravelled roof. The blood was my own, which my people had extracted from a vein in my arm a few hours ago, in case he decided to analyze it. The Kooples coat I was wearing neatly hid where the needle had punctured my skin.

The loud gunshot still rung heavily in my ears, my associates had crafted it well. A gun without a bullet, an empty threat, not quite as effective. Ignorantly I dismissed the discomfort caused by the precautionary crumpled paper underneath my arm temporarily stopping my pulse. I lay motionless, observing the gentle light hitting the sharp cheekbones of the coated figure.

As I had expected, he didn't even contemplate checking my pulse due to events he hadn't speculated; my death. My staged death. In the moment his judgement had become misguided, then he averted his attention to his own plans. Sherlock's stubborn curls swayed slightly in breeze; his long fingers deftly lifted his sleek, black mobile from his coat pocket. The mobile I had contacted him on only minutes before.

I'm waiting...

JM

Slowly his black leather shoes turned in the direction of the roofs edge after typing a short message without a moment of hesitation. Clearly, this message had been planned. From where I was lying I only managed to deduce the last character of the message; Sherlock's thumb had slid to bottom left of the keyboard, 'Z'. Confidently he lifted his feet onto the edge of the rooftop, whilst he continued to touch the screen of his phone. I heard a series of beeps in quick succession indicating that Sherlock's phone was dialing a number. Due to circumstance I presumed he would be calling either his brother, Mycroft Holmes, or Dr. John Watson, before I was able to come to a conclusion Sherlock began to speak.

"John," he uttered confirming my former suspicions, " turn around and walk back the way you came." Sherlock spoke arrogantly and assertively, after all he was above ordinary people. "Just do as I ask," Sherlock screamed, "please...", he murmured apologetically. Obviously John obeyed his orders as he continued "stop there... okay, look up I'm on the rooftop."