Me: Hey guys. It's Halo.

Watson: You're serious about this story?

Me: Yeah. You guys bother me too much. I figured that I could do this.

Watson: You know how to write?

Me: You read my chapters.

Watson: True.

Sherlock: Halo, you're doing this?

Me: Yes. (shakes head) Here we go, guys. (looks over) Sherlock! God... Put that down! (sighs)


The rain pours down with clouds shrouding the night sky. Most people would find shelter from this weather. Cars driving safely on the wet asphalt roads. But, this night isn't like the expected nights that they should be. The rooftops soaked and attached are the rain gutters were loud.

Then, a figure dressed in black, hooded and wearing a cowl across its face. It ran from rooftop to rooftop, scanning the lights of London and its dreary weather. Its vision is strong, able to scan and view the city better than others. When it reached for the right window, it broke in the right window of building 221B. This figure in black crept in with not a crack, creak, or pop. Footsteps light as ever, lights still remained off with no one home. It pulled its goggles down from its hood carefully, turning on the night-vision camera. It scanned for the sake of those files that its flat owners left, which would be, the one and only, Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson.

As she scanned the files stacked in a ransacking manner on the kitchen counter, she carefully plucked the manilla file out from the third from the bottom. The nine murders that have been occurring all over the UK. This figure knew about these murders for a while. Its sources knew where to find this file. The reason being that this figure knew about these murders is because it may have been connected to shrouded figure. It opened the file carefully, reading the names, viewing the pictures, and reports that were wrote by the Scotland Yard. Those faces of innocent victims of homicide echoed into its mind. It blinked and tried to block those faces out, but it remained in the intruder's head.

The sound of someone coming rang the intruder's ears. The figure in shroud placed the file back where it was and left the rest to make the scene look like it never happened. Then, the being crawled out of the window, closing it as it crept out. Crawling on the wall and climbing to the roof, the figure ran across the rooftops. Running as fast, it made it down a few blocks before it got into its new silver sports car. The goggles were pulled up and under its hood. The car raced down the road, passing the city limits to the rural area where its residency is made in Greniville Manor.

Greniville Manor is one of the richest estates to be bought in the London and rural areas. Being it 7800 square feet, it proudly stood as a two story estate in traditional 18th century. Its phone rang as it pulled in, it answered.

"Speaking," the figure spoke in its voice.

Female.

"Now, do you believe?" a man on the other line, tone of voice as a 'matter of fact' tone.

"I do now," she replied. "You know this is a terrible idea."

"But, it's for you to make these things clear."

"You know what, dad? Why don't you help me out on this, get me cleared since you've never knew I existed, and you want me back in your life?"

"God, you sound like your uncle."

"Well, maybe you should've told me more about the family..."

"I'm sorry. Just please. Trust me and you'll be alright. Lay low. I'll get this sorted out."

"Good luck with that."

She hangs up as she pulled into her parking space, then steps out of the car. She pulls her cowl down and hood, revealing her face finally. Eyes like beautiful gray green color, brownish blonde hair, and a face of an angel. Oval with some sharp cheekbones and small pink lips. Her hair braided in one large curly braid. Her curves show through her battle suit that consists of a one black, full body suit that is made of breathable and flexible material. Being it custom design, it had some pockets and sheathes for small weapons, tools, and medicines. Her toothy smile emerged when she called for her house servant.

"Bartholomew. Could you check over my car and see if there is any traces, scan, look over?" She asked politely, being a kind woman.

Bartholomew is a fifty year old man that the woman hired from a few years back. He's a silver haired fox, few wrinkles show his age, yet still in good shape to serve in the Greniville estate. Dressed in a fine suit, he looked well for his age with his suit on. He nods, smiles with the corner of his mouth. "She's up to her antics again..."He walks over to the car, then examines the car as the mysterious walked into her manor.

When she entered, she is greeted by her gray husky. The large canine licked her hand sweetly, rubs her leg with its head. Smiling, the woman pets her, then heads to her office to do more of her paperwork and research.


Me: Whatcha guys think?

Watson: Next chapter we come in?

Me: Of course. It's a prologue a little.

Sherlock: I know the father. It's-

Me: (closing his mouth with my hand)

Sherlock: (mumble)

Me: Shut up. Don't do this.

Sherlock: But, she broke in our flat for a file?

Me: Shut it. Go and play your violin.

Sherlock: (gives an 'excuse you' look)

Me: (gives the 'don't start this')

Watson: God, you two are...

Me: I know.