Watching all the people around me, I couldn't help but smirk. I was the only one with any sense around here. I was fully aware of my insanity, yet at least I still made sense. These people didn't. They were so simple, so focused on meaningless little things. Sometimes I didn't understand how normal humans worked. They seemed odd, in my mind. One thing Sherlock and I had in common. We didn't clutter our minds with meaningless little things. We were not like all the other people. No, not superhuman, but we just functioned differently. We didn't have the same perspective as many people. Of course, Sherlock would deny everything about us being alike. He was like that. Just lie to save his reputation, keep him out of trouble.
That was the thing. He never got into much trouble. He avoided it, while it defined my job. He was the goody goody detective, solving crimes. I was the menacing villain that showed up with an elaborate scheme designed to ruin his life. How lovely. Oh, if only he knew what was coming. I was devising a wonderful plan for him at the moment.
I stood in the middle of a densely populated tourist attraction. No one seemed to notice me. They were too caught up in enjoying their vacation. I watched a couple with two kids walk right past me, trying to keep the children from wandering off. I almost wanted to wave a business card in front of their face: "Jim Moriarty, consulting criminal." But I wasn't here to get people's attention, even though I felt I looked rather dashing today.
First I checked to make sure no guards were in sight. This moment needed music. The first song that came on shuffle was a lovely classical piece. Then, with the next button I touched, all the tourists evacuated the room. Now was time for the real fun.
The police found me sitting on the plush throne wearing a gold crown. "A man with a key is king," I had once told Sherlock. This was only an illustration of that. I could unlock virtually any door I wanted. If I desired to, I could break into the palace and steal the king's crown. That would only be a small step up from what I did here. It was wonderful, having such power.
So, about Sherlock. I left him messages. Such as "Get Sherlock" written on the glass before I made it shatter. Exactly what I would to do him. Then his name scribbled all over my prison cell. A warning, of what would come. I would make him feel as if he was trapped in a prison, with no escape. "I'm coming for you. -JM" I sent him the message.
Sitting all alone in my cell, I had plenty of time to think. At the pool, one of our previous encounters, I promised to burn him. Not physically, but even worse, mentally. I knew his weaknesses, because I thought like him. He, the great Sherlock Holmes, would never admit to being imperfect. But I knew just what would work on him. I would threaten the people he cared about- John, Mrs. Hudson, Mycroft, Lestrade. I knew he cared about them. He just didn't show it openly, wouldn't admit to it. Next, I would not threaten him directly, but his reputation. Another thing he cared about. It would kill him inside, people thinking he was not as good as he seemed. Then, in the end, he would kill himself. Eventually the game became too hard to play, that's all.