Author's Note: Hey everyone, it's me Zenna. Long time no see right? Yeah sorry about that. So here's the scoop: I went and saw Sherlock Holmes 2: A Game of Shadows the other day and I absolutely loved it! I was so inspired by the soundtrack and the movies that I decided to write a sequel… Yeah nothing new there and you all will prolly hate this and say that I have too many stories (which I do but I'm planning on continually updating them all still no worries). But I'm really excited about this and I'm currently obsessed with old Sherly! I even went to Barnes and Noble today and bought the first two volumes of The Complete Sherlock Holmes ;D I can't even take it haha…

So here's what I decided to do… I posted the prologue to my Sherlock fic below. If you guys want me to continue or have me stick with my POTC stories (for now ;D), just let me know in a review or PM, but preferably a review ;) Your feedback decides the fate of this story. I made the prologue short and sweet so you wouldn't have as much to read as usual. If you want me to continue, the usual length will be observed (around 4,500 words).

Anyway, this story takes place one year after A Game of Shadows. There are major spoilers throughout the story so don't read if you don't want the second movie to be ruined for you! Just a fair warning! Although the prologue is safe because no names are mentioned ;) So for all of you out there who haven't seen it yet, you're in luck. The prologue is spoiler-safe! :D

If you want me to continue, I'll set a series name, theme song and all of my usual series junk! Just a bonus ;) But be honest with me please! ;)

So please let me know what you think by reading and reviewing! Enjoy!

~ Zenna :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock Holmes, as much as I hope and pray :( It's sad I know… The quotes and the actual story part belong to me however (no duh lol).

Sherlock Holmes: The Dark Before Dawn

Prologue

When you have nothing left to hope for, find something.

A light dabble of snow was falling on the never quiet, always bustling city. People were crowding the streets, squishing each other on their attempts to reach their destination. Young ladies were skipping up and down the sidewalks, humming tunes that their mothers taught them while younger boys were busying themselves by conversing with the stage coachmen and their horses. Mothers rushed themselves home with their arms full of packages, goodies and food for their children while some fathers abandoned their work for tomorrow. The bridge-builders were still at it however and continued to bang away at the tall skyscrapers; the shopkeepers started to close their doors and whisk customers away with their hand-made "Closed" signs. The last church session had just let out and religious families emerged from the dark building. The priest waited until all of the people had gone, even the alter servicers, before leaving himself. The city was quiet after the sky started to darken so the priest left the doors unlocked, figuring no one would dare to bother an olden church for its time. The skies were just starting to turn darker by the daily dusk and everyone was hurrying home to their families after a long day of work. I, however, was just starting my day. I had no family left; my last remaining relative had left me a year ago. I wasn't saddened by his loss, I had known my father quite well and what he was capable of. He had used his life on selfish and twisted things, not even bothering to ask about me or my "spur-of-the-moment" mother. I was never supposed to be born, but my father knew how to screw up other people's lives quite well. So I continued to live on, knowing of only my father and no one else. The only reason I was upset by his death because I was deeply concerned at what kind of man would drive to murder someone else. But I knew already, and I knew why the man killed my father.

Because he was only trying to do good to the world and I knew it.

I felt bad for both sides of the situation because either side was only trying to do what's right, or at least what they thought was right. As much as they didn't want to admit it, the father and the man who killed him were quite similar. They both fought for what was right, they both had loyal sidekicks, they both were willing to kill for what they wanted to achieve, they both wanted to stop each other from stopping themselves, and they both had absolutely positively amazingly quick minds. I was never close with the man who killed my father but now I wish I had been. He was the only one that I knew of that could outwit my father and live to tell the tale, you see. But everyone's luck runs out at one point or another.

I stared across the street at the now empty church, waiting for the right opportunity. I had come to say and pass on my final words and thoughts to the dead. I closed my eyes and let my thoughts overcome me. It was difficult, you see, to have so much knowledge and put it to good use, I could only think of one person who successfully did it. It was that person that I would eventually kill, but how could I know that at the time? A full year after his death, my mind still swarmed with memories and final thoughts of my father. I worshipped every minute of time I spent with him because it was few but I still felt strongly attached to him. He had managed to do that to every single person he met; he took what they loved, squashed it, and twisted the knife in the person's heart so it killed them to even survive anymore. I couldn't let it show however, I would still avenge his death and would let his thoughts overwhelm me until I couldn't breathe. It's just good business.

The snow melted into rain as I stood there across the cobblestone street, watching and waiting for my moment to strike. The water droplets hit my raven-colored hair and I gently pulled up my navy blue cloaked hood, it was better this way. Since my father's death, I became the newest threat around the city. I had a reputation for unkindness and my own twisted ways, perhaps I was more like my father than I gave myself credit for.

A carriage crossed my path, being pulled by a creamy white horse that tossed its mane back and forth in agitation. I felt bad for it, I always had a soft spot for animals, and someday I figured it would be my downfall. My father taught me to never have any weaknesses and by the time I turned twenty, I simply did not care to listen to him anymore. I vowed to myself that I would never fall in love, that always seemed to be the reason behind everything these days and I despised it. Love made people change and it made them vulnerable. I spat on the ground just in spite of the whole thought and I shivered with the passing rain.

I watched as the horse's hooves splashed into the puddles in the cracks of the cobblestone street and sprayed the surrounding people with droplets of water. Idiots, they should have known better. I shook my head and began to cross the street as I realized that the horse-drawn carriage had passed. My heels clacked on the street and I felt eyes boring in the back of my head. It was quite annoying actually and I glanced from side to side as I reached the other side of the street. I glanced up at the tall building in front of me and I slowly ascended the steps into the church.

My navy blue dress billowed around me and I self-consciously glanced from side to side once more. No one seemed to think twice about a lonely lady with no family entering a church to pray, but I was going to do more than that. I pushed open the large brown heavy doors and stepped into the church. I took a deep breath and passed the little sinks at the back of the church. I entered through the main church area and sought out what I was looking for. I ran my finger along the pews, picking up dust as I went. Wrinkling my nose, I realized not many people came here anymore. The last full house gathering that took place here was about a year ago, and that event was exactly why I was here. I bunched up my dress and walked forward through the pews and up to the main alter, except that's not what I was here for. I wasn't here to steal or do anything; no I wasn't that kind of person. I was here for an actual purpose, an actual reason. I was here to visit someone.

When everyone knows your name, face, what you're capable of, your death can be tragic, helpful or even heroic.

Yes, his death caused a certain uproar in this town, many people became divided after this fact. I wasn't part of the uproar per say, but I became popular around this town soon after. My father taught me to bide my time well and soon after my father's death and this uproar, I made myself known. I made myself feared. I knew what to do, I knew what I was going to cause, and I still did what I did because if I didn't, this town would be quiet and subdued. Well, we couldn't have that now could we? I turned at the main alter and in my line of vision was my destiny. Yes, this is what I came for. I walked up to the column that I was after and walked around it once, making sure that this was it. As I saw the name written on a plaque nailed to the marble column, I knew that my life was about to get a whole lot more interesting. You see, my dreams (or I guess you could call them nightmares) came true that day. I knew that what I was about to do became a whole lot more dangerous and a whole lot more intriguing. Something about this name changed my world.

I pulled out a small bouquet of flowers from under my flowing blue cape draped around the shoulders of my dress and sniffed them once. No one would know I was here and no one would know where these came from. But I would and my father looking down on me would too, and he would be proud. That I could guarantee. You see, even though we didn't get along that well, I still cared for him even in his death and I knew that despite our recent events he would get his revenge. I was merely a pawn in his playing, ready to take over and take control. Smiling, I laid the flowers at the foot of the column and knelt down in front of it. I ran my fingers over the name once more, smiling to myself all the while. This was it, this was my time to show this little town just what I would do if they crossed my path wrong. They didn't quite know my full extend what I myself was capable of yet and I was intending on showing them quite soon as a matter of fact.

These flowers were no ordinary flowers, goodness no. What kind of person would I be if I didn't always have a trick up my sleeve? I would be very boring and inadequate and we could not have that now can we? I smiled to myself and stroked one of the petals daintily. Every single flower had a hidden meaning and I chose that for a purpose. No one else was brilliant enough to figure it out in this town, the only man that might understand was the one whom I was laying these flowers for. So my secret was safe, naturally.

There was bird's foot for revenge, mulberry for sadness, a rosebud for weakness, a hint of dead leaves symbolizing the tragic death and finally acacia for concealed love. This man was all of those things and more, shameful I hadn't gotten closer to him before his demise. But no matter, it was all over now.

I placed the bouquet carefully on the marble floor and sighed. Why must it be so hard to just accept the fact that it was over? Even then, I should have known that it wouldn't be over just yet. Hell, it wouldn't be over for quite some time. Why I even thought it would be for one second was baffling to my mind, but I forced myself to accept it because that's what I wanted to think.

That was my first mistake.

I should have known, I should have understood or comprehended in some way, but I didn't because I didn't want to accept that one fact that maybe the story would still continue. That maybe it wasn't over. That maybe this was all for nothing.

I think for all of us in this town it was maddening not having him around. It was very difficult at first, and then we all slowly adjusted back to our normal lives.

A crack sounded from behind me and I looked behind me, letting the sunlight from the church windows splash my face and dabble onto my dress. I blinked one carefully lidded eye and turned back to my subject. Oh it wasn't over yet, not until I say it is. The little town around here thought nothing of me now, maybe they were a little feared but that would get me no where. I had to do something about it and do something I would do. Even if the man that I just laid flowers for said it wasn't over, even if he was somehow still alive, it wouldn't matter.

Because he owed me.

He owed me because like it or not, I saved the one thing he cherished the most. I saved his weakness, his vulnerability, oh yes I saved the one thing he loved in this world. And so he owed me, and I would hold that over his head. But it wouldn't matter because he was dead and would stay dead. As much as I tried to convince myself of this fact, I attempted to push any other doubts out of my mind. He was nothing to me, he was nothing compared to me. I stood up and smirked at the little memorial I had just created. Oh it certainly wasn't over yet, that much I knew because I said so. The town thought I had given up, I hadn't done anything in a while and I was looking forward to my next trick up my sleeve. You see, it's not over until I say it is. I had my doubts but now everything was going to come together perfectly. Oh it was far from over indeed. The town had finally settled back into their normal lives and thought it was over. Oh it was far from over, they were just too naïve to see past their own noses. Like I said before, they thought it was over when they finally adjusted back to their normal lives from the shock.

But then I showed up.

Author's Note:Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know what you think in a review! And if I should continue, let me know about that as well! :) I love hearing from you all!

See you soon,
Zenna :)