Hey guys its going to be a short story just a small few chapters of Moriarty's perceptive up to season 3!
I never thought I'd be writing a story, my story but something nagging at the back of my mind compelled me to do so. I'd say you'd find my story quite interesting. I've spent the majority of my life hiding from boredom but it always finds me in the end. This world is full of boring people living out their dull lives, and since you're here reading my book you're doing the same as me. Escaping from boredom. I'll admit my ideas of being entertained are different from yours. You like hanging out with friends, I like hanging people who cross me. You like shooting hoops, I like shooting politicians. Yet here we both are, I'm writing my story and you're reading it. If I'm going to tell you a story, might as well starting from the beginning, but that's so boring and predictable. No, I think I'll start from where I heard of him.
Sherlock Holmes. A perfect man for me. The yin to my yang, the consulting detective to a consulting criminal. He obviously copied the title from me, can't blame him it is very flattering. I was consulting before him, my precious network was established when I was a mere ten year old boy being forced to move to a new country. My first target, Carl Powers, that stupid boy who thought he could mock me because he won some silly swimming medals. Quite funny how I turned his talents against him. What made his name ended his life, beautiful isn't it? With just a tiny bit of clostridium botulinum, I could almost see his limbs flailing in the water and the fear in his eyes as he took his last breath. He shouldn't of laughed at me. I kept the shoes as a memory of my first murder. You always remember your first and last, maybe a few special ones in the middle. I suppose most of you dull readers have never killed before, so to put it in your context think of it as a relationship. Your first kiss. isn't it ironic that the only difference between a kiss and a kill is the letters at the end? Both require passion, skill, and you're always left wanting more. Just shows there's not much of a difference between you and I.
Well technically he was my first consulted kill. I never get my hands dirty, why do something when you could pay or force somebody else to do it. I only get involved when I feel that my target is worthy of my physical involvement. Too bad there isn't many, everyone's the same and the simple-minded Carl Powers was definitely not worth soiling my hands. Despite successfully taking care of that brainless swimmer, I felt empty. The glee of reading about his death was short-lived. It was highly successful though, those mindless police officers took it as an accident. All the papers screaming. 'Carl Powers, champion swimmer, came up from Brighton for a school sports tournament, drowned in the pool. Tragic accident." Lets just say there were many 'accidents' after that.
But then there was this boy, he just showed up to the school one day. Oh he was clever, he noticed something nobody else did. He noticed the shoes. The very shoes which were safely sitting in the back of my wardrobe. It was a thrill thinking they might catch me, the adrenalin, the excitement! That's when it struck me, I should do this more often. Make a business out of playing these little games. That boy, that curly haired boy was the inspiration I waited years for. The police brushed off his deductions and closed the case and that was the last I saw of that boy, I thought. I hadn't expected to hear of him again over a deal gone south with Jeff Hope. I knew Jeff would get caught eventually or his disease would run its course. He wasn't an important part of my network, just a minor pawn on the chess board. After all what kind of genius wastes his life being a taxi driver? He was lucky that he died that day or his entire family would suffer in front of him. My network had one very important rule that the idiotic taxi driver broke. You never say my name, I learned two very important things that day, one was to never deal with an ordinary beggar again and the other was the name of the boy who started this all off. When word got back to me about Jeff all I cared about was the words, "Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective."