I'm baaack again. Have a drabble ficklet cross over.
"A good man's past makes people curious! But if he's a bad man, then it makes me wanna see even more!" Grell Sutcliff
Jim Moriarty, with his hair slicked back and his eyes shiny, gaped his mouth open, cracked the jaw as wide as it could go mockingly, and put a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger without a moment pause, like it was his life's shining moment. Insanity is as insanity does; and insanity breeds its last, in the form of Jim Moriarty. And when it is all over, his body is fallen, the warmth seeping out into the London air - rigor mortis setting in. The life of the elusive consultant criminal ended.
But in the moment before his body gave out from the bloody wound in his head, in the moment that put Jim him out of this world, Jim Moriarty saw a flash bright green eyes and crimson red. Glimpsed, his last sight, a mouthful of sharp teeth, and was indignant. His last sight on this infernal earth, the last thing his retinas imprinted was supposed to be Sherlock's face – dammit!
A second can last an eternity but then it has to end.
The glassy eyes stared sightless.
"Ah!" Grell Sutcliff sighed, death reaper, fellow psychopath. "Another one gone," Grell mused mournfully, in sad, womanly moans, "This one could have done so much more, the world cannot be better off with out The Consultant Criminal – if only I had a pink bookmark," Grell pushes his hand through his long, luxuriant hair. The other man takes a swan dive of the building ledge. He'll continue living though. The records are never wrong.
Grell kneels down his coat splayed out around his feet, brilliant - the colour he loves so much. He pokes the dead man's cheek, "Such a beautiful face." To have died as the last move in his own game was stunningly commendable and admirable in it's own twisted way - in a way that aroused Grell. The cinematic record spewed out and the images make Grell shiver rapturously, as they dance over the body. Grell felt them call out to his own past, his own criminal rampages, and his blood surges in his chest.
It really was just too bad.
Grell snipped the record neatly with his chainsaw scythe and was gone in a blur of red.