I'm bored. The sky's dark, but not really, all lit up by the glow of traffic and street lights and houses and it's all so boring. Ordinary people going about their ordinary lives, lit up. Cars moving in lines, like ants. Insects. Crush them. Poison them. Burn them. Smell them burn, crisping in their bright metal shells.There's the sharp slope of the roof under my feet, slick with rain, glistening like oil. No, like blood. A nicer simile, I think. More me. The air smells of smoke and exhaust.
Dull. Hiding. Even now that I'm dead I still can't do what I want. I want to kill something. No I don't. New suit. Westwood. No, Sebby can kill something, and I'll watch. Watch the spray of crimson, the sharp splintery white tearing through the soft fibrous red, hear something break. Someone.
No, that's dull.
I miss the game. Miss him even, his face all pallor and shadows, restless, angled. That mind, like a coiled spring, like quicksilver. Watching him dance, solving my puzzles. That body. So fucking beautiful. Not ordinary.
Such a pity he had to die.
Oh. Oh. This is... new. This is... interesting. Was that a feeling back there, just for a moment? Was that... sentiment? Ugh, how tedious. How depressingly ordinary. I'm not supposed to miss him! I beat him! I won!
Unless.
He's me. He's me and I'm him. Maybe, just maybe, if he's as extraordinary as I think he is... if he's even a bit as brilliant as I am...
He might not be dead.
And that's hope, right there. Another useless, pointless, human feeling. I am standing on a rooftop, hoping that my enemy, the only man who ever came close to stopping me, is still alive. How is that healthy? That's dangerous. And just a tad self-destructive.
Still, I hope he isn't dead. I did enjoy our little games, even when he won.
In the meantime, perhaps I'll pay Doctor Watson a visit. He always annoyed me. So sickeningly loyal to his master.
Aren't ordinary people adorable.
And I'd quite like to see Sherlock broken, all vengeful and angry. If he's alive, that is.
I should get myself a pet. Like Sebby, except he doesn't count. He isn't very clever, but he's hardly ordinary. He likes killing things too much for that.
I'm bored now.