I, Moriarty.

Chapter 1

"Who would have thought that it would end like this after all that you've caused me - you and the space separating us being only this?" the soaked kingpin reflected calmly as he held a gun to the head of one, James Moriarty "but it seems that this is game over for you..."

*Click*

*Click, Click, Click!*

"Why is nothing happening?"He screamed continuing to press the trigger until it exploded in his hand, and he caught fire causing him extreme damage. He kept running around blind into walls crying out with an anguished voice until he couldn't anymore and fell to the floor. His wails kept echoing around as he was cremated and smoked into a black corpse.

The young man, soaked as well, got off of his knees, dusting himself off with a jolly smile on his face. It was all as if he was not in the middle of a gang war on a rainy day but having tea at a cafe on a summers day. As he finished dusting himself off, he grabbed his blazer and tie from the nearby torture tool stand and fixed them on himself,

"Well, that would be because I swapped your bullets with a certain chemical and had gasoline splashed over you... now it's game over for you." He said as he took a second to stand over the charred corpse. picking up the gun, before walking out of the small container unit swinging the gun in a circular motion around his finger and whistling a tune...

"My name is James Moriarty and this is the mental reflection of my rise as a Consulting Criminal."

...

6 Months Ago.

A man wearing a sleek black overcoat on top of a classic black suit and white shirt had just stepped out of a London apartment. Locking the door, he turned to face the bustle on the street and grinned.

"I seem to have found myself stuck between a rock and a hard place during that time. On the one hand, I was still functioning normally, a calm and collected member of the nest these insects call society...Despite the small lapse of my judgement in my secondary school days with a bully which jolted me awake. On the other hand, My rent at this apartment was near due and I had lost my job a few weeks ago, making matters slightly difficult."

Starting on my way, I still marvelled slightly at the difference between living in London yet growing up in Ireland. I continued on and noticed all the little things on the people I passed, making small but logical analyses of them.

Old, rough hands, Short neat haircut, Robust body, correct posture, discerning eyes.

Retired military sniper.

Lawyer.

Funeral Director.

Floral Shop owner...

Before I knew it, I was already at the jobcentre waiting to get a chance,

"Hey man, whatchu looking for?" the guy sitting across from me in this small corridor says.

In the moment that I looked at this man, I understood a few things. He was a petty criminal who had grown up in a deprived area. So my instantaneous question was simple, How was this man currently here?

That was unless... He was involved with someone. From the tattoos on his arm which look are reminiscent of gang tattoos as well as the type of clothing and accessories he is wearing, I came to a conclusion. This man was some sort of recruiter for a cartel or criminal mob and immediately felt my body tense. I seriously did not have any fighting experience, even as a 20-year old.

"Hey man, You good?" He asked again tilting his head.

"Yeah, I'm just thinking about stuff. After all, what else would anyone

here be looking for other than a job and some cash" I laughed it off quickly thinking of the possible things this man was going to reply with.

"Well, here man, if you're ever looking for work -here's my card. It'd only be menial tasks like moving parcels and packages. But the pay is good. So there's nothing much to worry about." He continued until I heard my name being called in.

As I turned into the room, the man still made 'call-me' gestures with his hand. Closing the door behind me, I saw the person who I had come to visit. The angel of opportunity yet the Reaper of souls...

"So Mr.Moriarty, from what I'm seeing-you have very academically inclined career choices. I'm sorry but we don't have anything for you at this current time..."

At that, my head hung low and I felt myself slowly falling apart. My head hanging between my hands, I grinned slightly at my predicament. The director didn't see it so I quickly collected myself and curtly thanked her before walking out.

That same man was still making call-me gestures even as I walked out, Haah should I just put a small but constant dosage of Maitotoxin to his meal...

Did I forget to mention that he was pescatarian? Probably.

...

Soon after, I arrived back at my apartment with other things still on my mind. I didn't even acknowledge the landlady who was still yelling at me for the rent payment.

Walking into my apartment, I glanced around and was reminded that this wasn't what an average person would have in their 'home'.

There was a small, makeshift chemical laboratory on the dining table. In the fridge lay different chemical flasks and some were kept out on the kitchen side. My bookshelves contained only non-fiction books on science and mathematics, The room being coloured a dim black helped me concentrate and think most of the time.

Sigh.

I sat down in the rocking chair which was located in the corner of this apartment, in front of the fire. The tips of my fingers touched and I inhaled deeply before slowly closing my eyes.

"Back then, I abruptly found myself seeing small glimmers of a theatre flashing in my mind with multiple young boy dolls shouting and screaming at me from an audience seat. I didn't completely have an understanding of it back then, but I do now. Clearly, my previous actions still tormented me until that one day."