James Moriarty - The Devil's Descendant

Chapter 22

Moriarty rode at full speed. He was not wasting any more time stopping to think about how to save his daughter. If there was one thing he learned over the years, he knew he needed to just go with things, he needed to let things flow. 

Every year of his life he had been the King of England, never mind the Queen. He was the poisoned youth that will always be remembered, no one would ever forget him as the criminal who overachieved, yet achieved so well he would never be stopped. All kinds of special forces have tried to hunt him down in the past, yet, none of them had ever succeeded in catching the legend himself. Until the day that Sherlock entered into his life. What a day that was.

Each rode took a million years to ride. In his mind, he was losing very precious time, instead of getting to his daughter any quicker. Leaning forward, he felt the bike fly like a bird of heaven. Narrowing his focus, he took a sharp left, following the guidelines of the satnav. 

"Moran!" he cried, informing him of the next sharp turn he was about to take. 

These were the things he would be remembered for. Not the mistakes, the successes. The daredevil, the criminal of the century, for centuries. None would ever be able to compare to James Moriarty, he was the ultimate criminal that never died, that never bled, that never lost his heartbeat to anyone. He was the definition of invincible. Everything he did made him feel invincible. Pumping out more adrenaline than any normal human would be able to. 

It was nothing to do with a medical condition, it was the condition of his mind of insanity. Dust turned to gold for him, everything stopped for him and worked its way around him. There was nothing anyone would ever be able to do to stop James from anything he would ever want to do. 

People go to the dentist every day for their teeth to be pulled out. Well, for him, what was the point? He would do it himself without any anaesthetic. 

"I think we are here!" Moran called from behind as they watched the plumes of smoke billowing in the air. 

When they came to the clearing they were able to cross through, they stopped their motorbikes on the grass, pulling out their guns, removing their helmets and leather. 

"Aella has to be inside of there,"

"What makes you say that?" James was confused, he did not understand how Moran knew. 

"Her song. She mentions taking, torturing, hunting her. Anything that is hunted will be cooked alive, so she has to be in there,"

"You know more than you are letting on, Sebastian." 

They both ignored the comments that one another had made, apart from the valid ones. A sacrifice. That is what she was being made for. Aella was forced to sacrifice her life without any option to hand it over like this. Her head was hanging heavy, hanging low, her blood seeping out of the box like a river. The wound she had stitched was wide open after Alina had removed the medical help that Watson had provided nearly a day ago. 

"She is being made a living sacrifice," 

"The Celtics used to burn people alive, not anymore. Perhaps that is what she is doing to my daughter."

Walking up the pathway, a distinct cry resounded from the flames. It was so high that it exceeded the sound of the flames blocking most of the sound of her cries out, drowning her life away from her. Draining every last piece of blood she had from her weak body. 

"Aella!" Moriarty called, Moran following after him as he ran. 

Soon enough, Sherlock and John arrived at the scene, being carried in heavily. Their bodies were very much limp, darts protruding out of their neck. Two people, two men, carried them in. James pulled Sebastian behind a bish with him so they could talk.

"People will start spreading rumours," Moran tried to make a joke, but it was wiped away from the forefront of their minds as they listened intently to the conversations. 

"We saw them snooping around from where we took Aella. See if Alina wants them dead or alive."

"Will do, back soon."

Dropping their bodies onto the grass, James seemed obligated to see to their needs. Especially since they had been so wonderful and helpful with Aella when she was unwell. 

"Moran, you go and get Aella. Please be quick, I have a plan,"

"What is it?" 

"Once you signal you have her out, I need you to carry her into the woods. Find some moss to stop her wound bleeding and see if you can carry her far enough to a source of water, I will then find you. With Sherlock and John, I will call an ambulance, pretend I am someone else and then leave them here. Fire services will arrive and hopefully incriminate Alina. If you have anything to put inside there that won't burn too quickly which will prove to be hers, do it."

Moran moved to the fire, his feet were the only things he was not in control off as he made his way insideof the burning building, for he was not ready to let her die just yet. 

"Aella!" he called, with a hint of sadness in his voice. that was when his emotions started to show, a small tear dripping down the skin on his face. "I never got to tell you something."

"What?" she cried from inside the box on the middle of the burning house. Planks of wood fell all around, the wooden beams collapsing in front of his eyes.

"I do love you! Moriarty is outside getting help for John and Sherlock, Alina has had them,"

"Are they okay?"

"Yes, they are, are you?" he walked over to the box. On one of the sides was a small round hole, he put his finger through the hole gently. "Grab my finger if you can see it."

Inside the box, she moved her hands around until she found his finger. When she did, she held it tight like she would never be able to let go. "Am I going to be okay?"

"You will always be okay as long as I am alive, Aella."

A baby grabs their mother finger and never lets it go, 

It feels like a bond forever that never will escape,

So, she took his finger as her only form of hope,

He was the only one right their and then who had not left her all alone