Chapter 1

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Hello my lovely readers!

This story will depict the character Jim Moriarty, as I see him portrayed in the BBC series 'Sherlock'.

Fair warning guys, this will NOT turn into some fuzzy love story, as I want to stay true to my perception of the character. In my opinion, he was portrayed as a charming, manipulative, intelligent and impulsive psychopath. So yeah, that's what I'll go with (cue evil laughter)

I have planted a lot of quotes and references to the show throughout the story. Be sure to point them out, as you spot them!

Feel free to point out any spelling mistakes as well, as it'll only improve my writing skills.

BTW, the chapters WILL get longer as the story progresses.

Please be sure to comment and vote, I would really love the feedback ;)

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Once again I looked at the note, I had previously retrieved from the library. It was my last assignment this week. Her name was Caroline Rosalind Webster. The note had her address and phone number on it as well. I wasn't really in the mood to work right now, too anxious.. but Mark would expect the file before noon tomorrow, and we both know, that I have plans tomorrow. BIG plans. My heart started beating just by the thought of it. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, and focused on the task ahead. Caroline Rosalind Webster. A quick search on Facebook reviled her to be the trophy wife of an American senator. She was up to her knees in charity work, and by the look of her pictures and videos, she was a well known public figure. I went on to scroll through her long list of friends. Well Caroline who do you trust, I muttered to myself. I cross-referenced her friends with the comments on her posts, and one name stood out. Amy Hartfield. Yes, that'll work. I redirected my Ip-address and sent an email to Caroline, which looked like it came from Amy. 'Take a look at this' I wrote. I then attached my pre-prepared link and sent it. Now we wait..

About an hour later a well known ping-sound from my computer, informed me that Caroline had in fact downloaded the link. The link would redirect her to a 404 error page, and she would brush it off as a technical mistake and go about her day. What she didn't know, is that the file she just downloaded contained malicious software, malware, programed by me. In other words, I now own Caroline's phone.

You see, this is what I do for a living. I hack people, places, institutions and organizations. All to retrieve one thing. Information. Information I then encrypt and place on a memory stick. I hide the memory stick on top of the ceiling pads in the restroom of the public library before 12 o'clock every Wednesday. In that same hiding place, I will find a handwritten list of victims to hack the following week. The list is placed there by the man I work for, Mark Willson.
Now, you might think Mark Willson is my employer, but don't be fooled. In this game of chess I am but a pawn, Mark might be a knight, but Jim Moriarty, he's the king.

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