Psychopath x Empath (Part 1)

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Quick A/N: Sooo, this will be the first by-part chapters of this book. This is what I like to call the 'mini fanfics' which will have several parts (around 1-5 or moooore). Sometimes, I do get overboard with this and it can stand as it's own book, lmaooo, but I hope you don't mind that! Anywayssss, enjoy!!

Gist of this story: "They say being an empath is the most unproblematic thing you can be....but what they don't know is IT is problematic....because being emphatic is that you feel sorry for assholes too."


*Y/N's P.O.V.*

My smartwatch had been giving off an alarm for a few seconds now and my colleagues are already giving me pleading looks.

"Come on, Y/N, bed time already?" one of them said while chugging on a new full glass of lemon martini. It's our monthly night out, but I'm already done for the day.

"I'm sorry, guys. You know me at this point," I said while chuckling. I do feel sorry for leaving earlier. I mean it's already twelve in the morning, but for them, this is still way too early to leave, "I'm on duty tomorrow anyways, so I can't really stay up all night," I said, obviously making excuses.

Thankfully, they really do know me at this point and they didn't stop me. I picked up my things and bid them all goodbyes before walking out of the bar into the silent and cold dead night evening.

Since my flat is nearby and I don't have my car with me because I know I'll be drinking, I just decided to walk. I'm not in a shady part of town anyways, so I know I'll be safe even if no one else seems to be around. The loneliness of the streets is unsettling though. I'm not the type of person who's always out at night - I usually just stay inside my house or I'm at St. Barts Hospital doing my job as a nurse.

I continued my way home and decided to take the short path back to my flat which involves me walking along alleys. Again, I wasn't really worried, this part of town is safe and silent - criminals know not to mess with this area considering that the consulting detective lives nearby. They know they'll not be anonymous if they committed a crime here.

But I guess thinking about this too much jinxed it.

"Leave the body! We can't be seen here!" I suddenly heard a frantic whisper along the last alley I'm supposed to pass through. My body tensed up and I stopped walking and hid by the corner.

"The bastard still has a pulse!" another men argued, but I can hear that he's being dragged away already.

"No one's going to resuscitate him, he's going to die anyway. Let's go!" I heard the first guy who talked away and with that, I heard running footsteps and moments later, a car engine starting and leaving the area.

When the silence hit me again, I realized my body is tensed up yet shaking. I have never heard or encounter anything like this. Yes, I am used to adrenaline when I'm at work, but actually being here when something is happening is different.

'Still has a pulse...' The words suddenly echoed in my head and that jolted me to move.

I peaked in the dim-lighted alleyway to make sure no one else was there and I saw him - someone was slumped down to the ground, motionless.

My instincts kicked in like someone had switched on work-mode in my head. I sprinted towards the man and knelt in front of him. I'm trained for first aid and my first thought was to check for a pulse on his neck. We were trained to focus on the injury first and nothing else, but the moment I saw this man's face...I froze.

He'd been on the news recently, every newspaper I see every morning have his name or face on it, and I've heard Sherlock mention his name again and again. There's no mistaking it - it was none other than the criminal mastermind, Jim Moriarty.

Jim Moriarty Imagines / One Shots / Short Stories (BBC Sherlock)Where stories live. Discover now