James Moriarty - The Devil's Descendant

Chapter 4

Blood was everywhere. Moriarty knew he would have to come to terms with the fact that Aella would come with problems he had never actually been prepared for. If she was found, after being hunted down, she could face a lengthy prison sentence for the slaughter of four people. Four people who Moriarty would never have killed on live television.

For now, he wanted it to be kept a secret that she was his daughter. However, soon enough, the Holmes brother would easily catch on to who she was. They would see how similar she actually looked to Moriarty. Moriarty had memorable features, just like she did, they made you stop and stare for a while before realising they had caught you staring for a minute, one lapse in judgement you regretted. They clearly did not like being stared at that way. Adopting a stare toward one of them would be a criminal act in their minds, you have to ask permission to look or stare at them. As though looking into their eyes would turn you to stone. The memorable eyes of Medusa burning through your soul like a sharp thunderbolt thundering through your skin with no remorse. You felt it, it didn't

Instead of going to find her, James thought about waiting it out to see if she would be able to find him. Her intellect was good enough to be able to track someone down without even a small clue as to where that person might be. This time, he would make it much easier for her. On her record, she had never been known to kill people, let them die by her hand. Once or twice she had shot people, but never fatally. They were to teach people a lesson about her, to teach them never to cross paths with her unless they were sure they wanted to face the consequences. 

Moran was in shock at what had happened. In his own right, he was surprised that it had happened under Moriarty's watch. Let alone that she had managed to get the guts to jump from somewhere so high into the water below and miss the rocks. It was a miracle she had survived it. Now, those that she had shot were wishing they were in her shoes, but still no longer wishing. Wishful thinking was something that he wished he had beforehand, having everything prepared for her. However, things were never meant to be easy with a daughter like her, with a woman who was so capable now. After knowing her, Moriarty was within his right to be annoyed, confused, interested and intrigued at the way his daughter worked. 

Why? Why did she jump? That was a question they had no answers to unless they physically found Aella to be able to ask her about it. 

"Where are we going?"

"Is it so hard to think about where we might go?"

Moran thought for a while, initially thinking that they would go and find Aella, his daughter. That seemed unlikely, he needed to go someplace that she would be able to find him. If there was one place she would go to, it would be Sherlock's flat. Perhaps even Cudura to go and visit an old friend, Sherlock's sister. 

"Maybe 221B Baker Street would be a good idea,"

"Good, Moran! I am pleased you are starting to catch on, I always thought you were thick,"

Moran laughed at the thought of him being an imbecile that Moriarty always liked to antagonise him with. "My intellect is just as good as yours, and you know it,"

"My words are like clickbait to you," he smirked slightly, cracking the dimples open on the sides of his mouth. 

Everything that had happened with Aella had easily made Moran lost for words. On his initial inspection, he had presumed that she was just an ordinary girl that sparked no resemblance of his boss Moriarty. That is why you never judge a book by its cover and falsely judge them. Sometimes hasty decisions end up being the worst ones, especially for those who had tried to 'save' her from the water.

Aella was one who could take care of herself no matter what the situation was. However, James had not yet told her that her mother was dead, going to Cudura would not happen under Moriarty's watch. For the first time in a long time, he was experiencing the emotion of love. He loves his daughter more than anything. Whilst he may not show it, he only wants the best for her, and this was not what he wanted for her. 

Since she was in her criminal activity, he had hoped seeing the actions of his criminal organisation would put her off of doing what he had liked to do. Something had made her jump from her balcony and shoot those men she had seen before she could experience the criminal world Moriarty had worked so hard to build.

Sebastian and James had walked all the way to Sherlock's apartment. They knew that they did not need to knock for Sherlock enjoyed the company of unexpected guests. Sherlock was always the one to anticipate and expect their visits, he knew from the television reports what Moriarty was up to when he would come around for a cup of tea to tease him and tear him apart with the perpetration he committed to get his attention. That was the one thing Sherlock admired about Moriarty, his anonymity and the elegance and grace to which he commits his crimes. One thing he cannot seem to ignore or stop, like the graceful motions when he smashes a window with something priceless and then something cheap. Gum and a diamond. A chisel made out of wood or one made out of gold. Either way, his motions were mesmerising and capable of anything.

Upon entering, Sherlock and John were not talking, Sherlock was not talking to himself and playing the violin. Everything was deadly silent, nobody was up there in the flat.

"It sounds empty," Moran took his gun out of his pocket holding it near his head ready to shoot if there was anyone that was not supposed to be in the flat. "Always prepared. Let me go in first to see if anyone is in here."
James nodded, allowing him to go in. He waited outside of the door, hoping that no one would see him on the top of the landing outside the detective apartment. 

"Anyone in there Moran?"
"No, come in," 

Just as he entered, Moran peered out of the door dragging his master by the collar inside of the room closing the door with a slight slam just as Sherlock would do. He grabbed one of the chairs that were in the apartment, propping it against the door, just underneath the handle. 

"What are you doing? Dragging me in here by my collar!" he howled at Moran, viciousness presented in his eyes. 

"It looks likes someone has escaped from the walls of Cudura, one person we did not think would ever come back,"

"Who?" 

Down at the bottom of the apartments, a woman had entered one of the flats below, humming to herself and searching through the person's belongings, she must have made sure everyone would not notice she was there. Especially Mrs Hudson. When she moved, her movements were captivated and luxurious to the eyes, her hands gently falling to a door handle, dropping to her side when she was done opening the door, moving into the room sideways, to only come back out again, humming a tune, a song. 

James recognised that humming from anywhere, he had heard it many times. It had the power to make or break a man, it was the tune he had heard on that recording from before when the Chambers were invented. He remembered hearing the lulls of the words in his mind, calling to him, hoping he would revisit them one more time, to hear their cries and forcefully chills done his spine, goosebumps layering his skin like a blanket of ice. A sheet of cold winds encasing his body into a chilled corpse, one she would love to have as a memorial to him. 

"Cover your ears." Moriarty was stern with Moran, forcing him to block his ears off. They went into Sherlock's room, hoping that they could find something to block the sound of her singing, the singing that they had stopped plaguing them from long ago. 

"Is she back?" Moran mimed with his lips, handing Moriarty a pair of earplugs he found in Sherlock's bedside drawer. 

James nodded putting the plugs into his ears. "Here Alina will enter, the Alina Holmes,"

"The fighter and the whirlwind,"
"Alina Holmes and Aella Moriarty."

We make our demons and beat them to death,

They fight us and taunt us till the bitter end,

If one thing hurts more than this it will be the end,

The end of all things so Alina had said.