"I'm laughing.." The criminal giggled softly, lacing his fingers together and resting them on his lap in a casual fashion. He was finally getting what he wanted: Satisfaction. "I'm crying, Sherlock is dying..." He trailed off, tilting his head with that sultry smirk. A man was crumpled before him, blood coating his clothing and the surrounding concrete. The man had sustained several stab wounds, and Moriarty -The consulting criminal- was practically beaming.
"You..." He gave a feeble cough, low voice cracking.
"You know Sherlock," A pause, "I always knew this would happen in the end; I knew I'd win in the end." His voice had a comical tone to it, the very way he said those words, they.. they were enough to chill anyone to the bone. Moriarty knew the thoughts going through Sherlock's mind as he surveyed the defeated man with gleeful eyes. "Who knows, maybe you'll be faking your death this time, you did it before... no?" He smirked once more and gestured towards him, an almost sympathetic quality to his voice, "You don't have long left."
The dastardly criminal almost expected the man to shoot back some snarky comment in his last moments. But... he just didn't. The only words that Sherlock said in his last moments actually managed to cause a stir in the evil man's heart. "Goodbye.. Jim Moriarty."
And he was gone.
