Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!Tumblr about my stories: JaimiStoryTeller
Jim's POV
After his twin had committed suicide a top Bart's he had expected there to be more public outcry against Sherlock and yet there was not. The reporter he was so sure was going to write his slanderous article never did. When he had confronted her the day Sherlock committed suicide she had not even known what he was talking about. In a rage he had dragged her to the train yard, making sure to shove her hard in front of the oncoming train so that she would die.
Grumbling he tries to call his snipers, all of them, and not a one of them answer. Their phones just keep ringing. Growling he decides to check their posts in person, surprised when he discovers that each and every one of them is either missing or dead. What the hell? How is that even close to possible?
Over the next eleven months every strand of his web is dismantled, there is a ghost, a person unseen by people and cameras travelling everywhere he has part of his web and destroying it, along with many of his contacts. His British web is being shredded by the Iceman, probably as revenge for his brother's death.
Days before the one year anniversary he gets a call from one of his last generals, alerting him that they had caught a man who had been snooping around his compound in Serbia, his last major compound. Quickly he arranges to go there, to see this person who is invisible to cameras and has not been seen by anyone.
What he discovers is Sherlock Holmes still very much alive and strung up like so much dead meat.
His pleasure at being able to get revenge is short lived, as he has his throat ripped out.
That's what confuses him though, he can still see as the cat, a massive hybrid of a cat, as it kills all of his remaining soldiers and frees his enemy but he can do nothing about it.
"Of course you can do nothing about it, you are mine to play with now," a woman's voice echoes through both his mind and ears. If he was still alive he would have sworn they were bleeding. "Oh they will be, all of you will be before I am done. My Mistress made a deal, as her Will I am making sure that it is carried out. You will never harm another innocent soul." The voice continues.
It is a massive struggle, his body does not feel like it is his but he manages to force himself to look at the voice, surprised to see that it is a delicate child with pearly skin, eyes gleaming like stars, and shimmering silver hair. Blood pours from his eyes as he stares and her lips curl in a cruel smile, one he has seen on his own face so many times that he knows that whatever is to come will not be pleasant.
"You have that right, what is to follow is not going to be pleasant, I will take great pleasure in destroying you piece by piece until you cannot even remember why I am doing so. The beautiful thing is I will have millennias to do so, you have been given to me to do with as I desire as long as your soul is never freed to return to the human world. That I can do."
Despite the pain and the terror slowly working its way through him, he cannot look away from the glorious sight before him. Why couldn't he have met someone like her while he was alive? He never would have been bored. He had hope that Sherlock would be the cure for his boredom but he wasn't.
"You would not have liked me when I lived, people like you were fun to skin alive and use as play toys. There is a reason I have been bound to the Divine Realm of Darkness, it is not for my caring nature." She tells him with a smile, "Now shall I describe everything I plan to do to you over the years to come? How I will completely skin you, allowing you to feel every drop of blood as it falls from your body. How I will make you remove your own bones, enjoying the agony that it causes. How just when you think it is coming to an end I will dip you in acid, enjoying the way your body will melt and burn, all the while you will stay alive within the Divine Realm, your soul able to feel every ounce of pain I dole out, and it will not just be physical pain, I will delight in making you feel every cruel and vicious act you have ever committed." She moves closer, drifting around him, her small fingers brushing his skin and feeling as if he is being touched by dry ice, the combination of intense fire and freezing cold. "I am Moriura, and it will be my great pleasure to introduce you to the true meaning of living hell."
His eyes finally close as she slides behind him and he wills himself awake. This cannot be happening, the afterlife is not a real thing! Too bad for him, he is fairly sure he is about to learn exactly how real it is.
