Haven't You Heard That I'm The New Cancer?
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Whispers followed James Moriarty all of his life. When he was little they bothered him- whether real or in his head- but as he grew up he began to embrace them- again in both senses- as part of himself.
'Freak' and 'loser' were common throughout his childhood. He tried not to mind.
It was at home where he was really hurt; his mother's indifference or name calling ('bastard's child!') and- when he even bothered to show up or stop being drunk enough to drive- his father's beatings or name calling ('whore's son!).
He had no friends at school; no one liked him, so no one asked him why he winced every time he moved his arm or leg or why his lip was split and his eye was black.
Everyone saw of course, just no one cared.
He'd always tried to be indifferent when people called him things or hit him, but it was Carl Powers who got under his skin.
He made him tingle and itch. He could make James Moriarty squirm.
So, obviously, he had to go.
It was really very simple actually; he just poisoned his eczema cream with botulinum. He knew all about poisons and things. He did so love to read.
Silly little Carl put it on his feet before going off to a swimming competition.
They heard the next day that poor Carl had died. There was a lot of crying, from everyone except James in fact.
The police report said seizure. The idiots knew nothing! They didn't notice what was important. That thought made him smirk up at the trainers that sat on the top shelf above his desk, next to them was his rabbit's skull and cow's eyes floating in a jar of embalming fluid.
That's the day he really stopped caring about anything, except the game of course.
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"I've heard the DI complaining about it! In fact that's all he ever does at the moment! This kid just won't quit bugging us- him!" His father paced angrily in front of his mother snapping complaints at her. She sat nodding and making sympathetic noises; James' father was the only thing his mother actually had time for.
James' sat outside the door listening and trying to balance a particularly tricky equation.
NaMnO4 + H2O2 + H2SO4 ? MnSO4 + Na2SO4 + O2 + H2O
So if he put a 2 in front of NaMnO4 -
"Seriously this kid- a kid! - thinks we've missed something! He's being a total smart arse! But of course we can't touch him- oh no! - because daddy has all the money!"
And a 3 in front of H2SO4 -
"He keeps going on about trainers! 'For god's sake the trainers!'" His father did a bad impersonation of a child's voice but it didn't matter; he had James' full attention.
Someone had figured it out! Someone was clever enough to notice his little clue.
"Damn bloody Sherlock Holmes!"
James grinned slowly at the wall; he was going to have a lot of fun with this Sherlock Holmes.
The game is on!
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Well that's it! I hope you enjoyed this! I promise the next chapter will be a bit longer; this was just a short introduction.
Now this is C this isn't M's favourite thing (definitely not!) so I'll be a bit gentle for her in the first couple of chapters but it should pick up (oh no...!) so that's a promise (nnooo!)
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From M (reluctantly) and C.
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