Beautiful Liar

Final Destination: Part One

"Jim..."

Stumbling backwards and away from the deceased body, I glanced over to Jim. Not only was he standing, he was continuing to tackle to brutes holding Sherlock and Mycroft. After finishing off the menaces, Jim turned his body in my direction. He dropped the gun and ran towards me. Noticing the quickness of his pace, I met him in the middle; engulfing my husband into a passionate hug,

"My darling." He cooed softly. Leaning into him, I wrapped my arms around his neck. Never wanting to let go, never. "I heard you my darling, I came." I pulled away and placed two hands on each side of his weary face,

"I know... My consulting criminal." Pulling Jim closer, I embarked on a passionate kiss. Jim reacted by grabbing my waist and hauling me closer. However, we were stopped by a cough from behind. It was John. He was stood close to Sherlock and Mycroft, examining the scene from afar. Giggling to myself, I pulled away once again from Jim. But I still kept a firm grip on his hand. There was no way that I was going let go now, not after this,

"Get a room you two." John said with a smile. Jim squeezed my hand and kissed my forehead,

"Oh, we plan too." I tried my best to hide my blush from the men as I moved closer to Sherlock. He was still swaying slightly but looked awake enough to talk. "I'm sorry Sherlock. You too Mycroft. This is all my doing. I'm deeply sorry." Sherlock started to shake his head slowly, making his curls fly all over the place,

"No... I-Don't. This isn't your fault. I mean you could've killed him at the bar, but..." He trailed off, making me chuckle in the process. I opened my own mouth to comeback with something witty when a loud sound echoed around the warehouse. To me, it sounded like the sound of applause. A condescending kind. Slowly, I brought my head around to face the sound of the eerie clap. And there he was. Stood like nothing had struck him. Peter Wilson was alive, after three bullets plummeted straight into his slender body. How could this be? I clenched my fists beside me as I could see Jim and John getting the shock too. Peter dusted himself off and advanced towards the group. A sly grin plastered across his face. Before fear was present, now it adrenaline,

"Did you really think it would be that easy? I let you walk away and get your happy ever after?" He asked darkly. Swallowing deeply, I allowed my feet to carry me forward,

"I don't believe in 'happy ever after' and I'm quite sure Jim doesn't either." I countered sarcastically. Jim and John looked on in sheer horror as Peter and I came closer to each other,

"Ah yes... But I know a fairy-tale that will certainly keep you on the edge of your seats. Shall I start? Alright... Once upon a time, there was a princess called Juliet. Juliet was happy with her prince charming. Nothing could destroy their love, nothing could separate them. Our princess then met the famous hat-man and his boy-toy, John Watson. Everything in the kingdom was secure and happy. But, allow me to take you back to a more murkier time in our princess life. It all started when Juliet's parents were brutally murdered. Juliet didn't have much time for that though, did she? Our Juliet's kingdom was crumbling beneath her and how? I hear you ask. Well, she was fresh out of university and engaged to the richest man around. The Prime Minister's son, Edward was a fine catch. However, one night, Juliet was awoken by her drunk fiancé. He was violent and abusive. Did Juliet call for help? Did she scream? No. Juliet took matters into her own hands. She reached for the nearest knife and stabbed him were it most mattered. Edward soon died in the arms of his beloved and who did she call for help; once she realized her pitiful actions? Non-other than myself; Edward's best friend and best-man. Together we discarded of his body and nobody suspected a damn thing. Edward's parents found Edward hanging in the attic, a suspected suicide; or so they thought. Juliet soon slipped from the public eye after the incident and that's how she ended up in the clutches of the prince charming of our story; Jim Moriarty. Seeing Juliet with another man, I felt some kind of betrayal. She was meant to be with me. So, I turned to M.I.5. Gave them the information about Edward they needed and Juliet soon became the national threat she is today." My heart started to beat irregularly. I kept my eyes froze onto Peter. There wasn't a soul who wasn't listening to Peter's story. I had tried to keep my secret hidden and concealed from the boy's for as long as I could. "Gentlemen, Juliet didn't only kill Edward. Oh-no. She has struck again and again, and again. It wasn't an accident that I found you that night. It was my way, shall we say, of giving you a second chance. I wanted you to be given redemption, but you refused and I had to take action for that. Two criminals together, it's rather fitting; don't you think? This woman is walking time-bomb and who knows when she'll strike again? And that is the tragic story of Juliet Moriarty." From the corner of my eye, I could see John and Jim's expressions. Both mixed with a handful of confusion and hurt. Sherlock's was a little more clearer, but it was one that I could not read. Jim placed two hands on either side of my head, pulling me ever-so closer,

"Why? Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped, I could've prevented this." Shaking my head, I let out a nervous chuckle,

"No Jim. There was no stopping this. I wont pretend to be sorry for what I have done. Those I killed deserved to die, all of them. I didn't mean to conceal it from you but what choice did I have? We all have our secrets that we would rather keep unpublished. And it's true. I found out that I was being followed, investigated. So I took it into my own hands. The men Peter sent to kill me didn't return and once that happened, I knew I had to start again. Somewhere new. So, I'm quite glad that you decided to 'fake suicide' when you did Sherlock. It saved my life as-well as Jim's. I'm sorry Jim-I-I didn't mean no harm, remember that." Placing a tender kiss onto Jim's lips, I smiled and turned to Sherlock. "Say it Sherlock. Just spit it out, please."

"That was, unexpected. I will admit it that I'm shocked. But I will do the same and I won't pretend that I am not proud of you right now." I shuffled away from the detective and a small but confused smile played on my lips. Peter began to advance on the group but was soon pushed up against the concrete pillar by Jim,

"What you going to be do, eh-Jim? Hurt me?" Jim released his grip of the man and was pushed aside. Peter once again, started to remake his way over to me. However, I could feel a protective arm slide around my waist. Looking to my left, I saw John. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and I focused on the advancing Peter. "The demise of Juliet Moriarty... I'm glad you've all got a front row seat because this is going to be one class-act show. The police are on their now. They should be here any minute now." Peter gave me a quick glance and tapped lightly on his Rolex watch. I took one final glance at three men stood beside me and took a deep breath,

"Please forgive me. Forgive me for what I am about to do. Please Lord." Before anybody could register what was happening, I moved my iron-like legs over to Peter at a steady pace. Swooping the discarded pen-knife off of the floor and keeping a firm hold in my right hand. I could hear shouts and calls from behind me but I didn't hear and I was most certainly not listening. Pulling a shocked Peter close, I pressed the knife close to his chest and leaned close to his ear. "See you in hell." In one quick motion, I plunged the knife into his chest and released it just as fast as it had entered. Blood dripped onto the floor, as Peter fell backwards the life leaving him fast,

"Jules!" John called from behind me. I didn't process his shouts, I couldn't. Fear and adrenalin had taken over my body,

"Juliet!" Jim tried. But there no use in trying, I wouldn't listen. The large steel warehouse doors slammed open and in came a hoard of S.W.A.T members. Police officers following behind.

"JULIET MORIARTY. DROP THE KNIFE AND PUT YOUR HANDS UP IN THE AIR."

I dropped the knife, sending it clattering to the concrete floor. Two officers came up behind me and slapped a pair of cold hand-cuffs onto my battered wrists. But what seemed most odd, was the officers looked nothing alike. Both men had scuffed leather jackets on with matching sunglasses. They certainly did not look like French police officers. The two 'officers' then led me out into the harsh sunlight and over to a large riot-van. One out of two opened the back doors and pushed me inside, slamming the door firm behind me. Sitting up roughly, I could feel another presence in the large backspace. That's when I started to panic. From outside, I could hear John and Jim's screams of protest. Nothing could've set me off even more. Scanning the van, I tried to make out the presence but it was no use. I could feel nothing,

"Hello?" My voice cracked, full of weariness and hurt. There was nothing but silence. "Make yourself known, c'mon." Again, nothing nut silence. Closing my eyes, I leant back against the hard metal enclosure. This certainly felt like hell. That's when I heard the breathing, and it seemed to be coming closer and closer. Opening my eyes, I slowly jerked my head to the left. But, not in enough time to see the syringe that was heading my way. It penetrated deep into my neck and into darkness I soon fell.

To Be Continued in: Final Destination: Part Two..