Chapter One: The Pills

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by WellsBarry

by WellsBarry

Pepper's POV
It was just me and my two siblings. We were walking up a street. My brother behind me. Me and Freedom were the oldest and the same age as the famous Sherlock Holmes. Which we were trying to find. Truthful, 9 years old, always wanted to figure out what everyone was. She was also the first to see the old high school nutjob. But that's not where we are going to start. We are starting at the shooting.
Anyways, we walked awhile longer until shots rang out, causing us to hide behind a car. Not screaming. Just hiding. We were probably behind the car for at least an hour until it stopped. Silence.

A few hours earlier....

Freedom and Truthful were out with the man at the time I didn't know was John and a man that I would come to know as Sherlock. The two men talked calmly with one another. The other man put his long arm over my siblings. In a fatherly gesture.
Me, the man I now know as Sherlock, the other man I now know as my high school friend John and my siblings ran after the cab, taking an alternative route. I've never ran this far in a long time.
The two as well as the rest of us ran back to 221B.
They were out of breath. But they seemed fine except the police were in his flat. After the quarrel, Sherlock found put the big bust. The big 1-8. I didn't really know what he was talking about through his spiel but I was looking with John. He was thinking hard, in his mind palace I would begin to call it.
I followed Sherlock. He seemed not himself. I saw him look at the man with eyes of what could only be described as both disgust and no sympathy.
"No one thinks of the cabby driver.", the guy with the Irish cap said, "like your invisible."
Then I stopped listening, but I was paying attention. He started gong into the taxi. The not taxi driver. A bad vibe came across him and I went unto the cabby with the taxi driver with Sherlock.

A few hours later...

We were in a secluded area. Quite typical. Sherlock and I walked in. Wanting to know how he makes the victims take their lives. Again, typical.
The dark place which then was turned on. We sat down with the killer. Obviously we weren't going to die. There were two very similar pills. Even if I was going to die with Sherlock. It was sure as hell wasn't going to be where we are. This killer was all sorts of typical. But if I wanted to show Sherlock I was a survive raw well as this Blackbeard of a taxi driver. Then I had to be very clever. Even more clever than what I was. Plus on a random tidbit of information, same age as Sherlock and we saw each other at parks so we honestly weren't stupid. We knew we had to survive. No matter what the costs.
"I won't cheat. It's your choice.", he said. He was talking about the life or death roulette game he came up with. One meaning life, the other meaning death. He only had two bottles and there was three of us so clearly he didn't know I was going to slip in. Because I am honestly like that.
They were talking about choices now. It's a chance, he said chess. One move. One survivor. I call it roulette and I knew Lestrade was with my siblings and John was on the way. We just had to wait, so I let Sherlock do the talking. I was just here to see what would go down anyways.
Then the man said, "Play the game."
We were so close to being out of here. John was here. I felt it. A bullet sounded. He was dying on the ground as Sherlock came closer to him. But luckily the game was over.