Greta //(A BBC Sherlock: Moriarty Fanfiction)

Chapter 33: "Your first move."

Alright! I'm real stoked for this chapter so let's dive right in!

Happy Reading!

The dark mansion is lit by a single chandelier. It seems almost mandatory that every big house is to be accompanied by a chandelier, it's how things go.

If you venture further into the house you would find hallways and doors and windows covered up by big, red curtains. A single room would hold an office. An office belonging to the second most dangerous man in the world, willing to give anything and everything up to be the first. You would find this man in his office and you would find him puffing on a big cigar. You would walk in and see everything kept dark, and you would figure it was because he liked it that way. You wouldn't know that it was because if he were to walk in daylight, his already scarred skin would blister and bubble. You wouldn't know he was a creature hidden in darkness in order to stay alive. And you wouldn't know that the scars his face holds tell a story of pure wickedness and betrayal.

You wouldn't know that this man, the man with the scars, was betrayed the most dangerous man in the world.

The Napoleon.

There, right there! Did you think of him? Do you know who he is? I saw it in your eyes, either that flicker of anger or excitement.

He's taken something from you, hasn't he?

Well, he's taken something from me, too.

We have something in common, now you see?

You want whatever you lost back, but you know it's gone. I know it, too.

I know it's gone, so why don't you join me? We can rid him together. We can get revenge on that very same man.

How can we find him when we don't know his face, you ask? Well, I've been the closest to him. I've seen his face. I know his emotions you think he doesn't have. But let me tell you, they're there. They're a burning rampage of emotions all wrapped up inside of him.

Emotions that if let free to roam, could destroy him.

Hm~. You've grown obsessed with that word, destroy. It's come over you like a tsunami of total chaos.

That's another thing we have in common, I love that word too.. I assure you, if we team up, he won't see another day.

Just like me. I will never see the day again, because he took it from me.

The Napoleon took my sight, and my skin, away from me.

That man I was referring to earlier? I'm sure you can already guess, that man is me.

Miguel Francessca, at your total service.

"Sir?" A woman stood at the doorway of The Boss's office. He put down his pen and frowned at her, obviously upset that she interrupted his work.

"What is it, Leslie?" He asked, with an irritated tone. He twirled his cigar in between his fingertips, unlit. The smell of the ashes from the previous cigar he had puffed still resonated within the air.