Hi, this is the prologue of my newest fic. It's very short…but there you go… I want to start posting it soon within the next few days. Please tell me what you think!
Disclaimer - I do not own any Sherlock Holmes related concepts.
The Case of the Cursed Treasure
Prologue
To find the treasure, the seeker must go to:
The house of God in the Place of our fathers
The figure of our famous ancestor
The ruin of the house of our past
A book in The City of the Dreaming Spires
The Bridge over the River of Death
Dimsdale unfolded the scrap of paper which he had had all his life, and read it through once, although he had performed this action hundreds, thousands of times. The clue had been gifted to him by his mother - although, he thought, she was an utterly stupid woman - unable to figure this riddle out, unable to find the answers. He had to find the answers, had to repay the way that he had been treated all his life. They said that this treasure was cursed. What did he care of that kind of superstitious rubbish?
Some of the clues, well, they were quite simple. Anyone who knew a little history could find the answers. Others, though… He needed someone. Someone with inside knowledge, as it were. Someone who it would be relatively easy to extract with the minimum of fuss. Of course, there was one person. Someone who knew. Someone who had been passed the riddle down by their mother, like he had.
And he was going to get them. Force the answers from them. With violence if need be. Poor little one. But he didn't care. He had got past the point of remorse or guilt. All that motivated him now was envy, greed, hatred. He would do this. The treasure would be his. And God help anyone who stood in his way.