Chapter 1
Sherlock Holmes was a very strange man… He had always been strange, cause of his extreme intelligence. No one could understand him. Even his best friend, the doctor John Watson. That day was cloudy, as always in London. Sherlock was lying on the couch, thinking, enjoying the nicotine patches. Were the 5 a.m. and he was already awake. Then, suddenly, he heard John, who yawned, walking to him with a sleepy expression on the face.
-'Morning Sherlock.-
-Good morning John…have you slept well?-
-No, of course, because you have shot all night-long with your bloody gun, making a terrible noise! You don't have respect!-
-Sorry, I was training myself…-
-Training yourself for what, exactly?- said John, making himself a coffee.
-For my next crime.-
-Why? You think that will be a crime in these days?-
-No. Not in these days. Today.-
-And why do you think this?-
-Because we are in the 22th century, in a cosmopolitan city. There's always a crime.-
-If you say that…-
Sherlock jumped off the couch, perfectly dressed. He took his coat and his scarf, ready to go out.
-And now where the hell are you going? Are the 5 a.m. of a Sunday morning and everyone is sleeping!-
-Maybe you're right, but I need to go out for a walk. Do you want to come? I can wait you.-
-Oh God…All right then. Give me five minutes.- says John, with a sigh.
Sherlock sat back on the couch, waiting for him when, suddenly, he received a text.
"Meet me at the Tower of London.
JM"
He jumped up, running out of the apartment
-John, I've to go! You don't need to come!-
John, half dressed, came out of his room.
-Wait! Sherlock!- but he was disappeared.
Holmes was already down in the street, taking a cab.
-To the Tower of London- he said to the taxi driver. Why that man wanted to talk to him? What was his next plan to try to defeat him? Maybe he was wrong. Maybe there was someone who could understand him. The only one with the same intelligence, with the same ways of thinking. Of course, he was "on the side of the devil", but he was so similar to him, so strange as he was, that, in some kind of weird way, they were connected. Now the question was: what he want from him? Sherlock was thinking about the next move to do, when the taxi stopped its ride. He paid the taxi driver than he looked around him, searching for the man.
-Sherlock! Then you have received my text! I was thinking that you had not received it.-
-Moriarty. What do you want?-
-Hey, why are you so rude? Relax, jeez. I just want to talk with my nemesis.-
-You're not my nemesis, Moriarty. That is my brother.-
-Hahaha! Funny as always. No, Sherlock, you're right. I'm not your nemesis. I'm you. The better half, of course, but I'm you. Don't you think?-
-C'mon Moriarty, tell me what you want. I've things to do.-
-Like what?-
-Talk, Moriarty, or, I swear, I'm gonna shoot you straight in the face!-
-Oh God, my beautiful face no! All right then. I'll talk. I'm planning something.-
-I already know that, Captain Obvious. And I also know that you're planning something to prove me, isn't it?-
-See? That's what I was trying to say to you. You understand me so well. Maybe you can read my mind too! I'm moved.-
-So..what kind of "something" are you planning?-
-Well, that's a little riddle you have to resolve.-
-You know that I hate the riddles.-
-You need to love them, cause, if you don't, a lot of people are gonna die. And you don't want it, am I right?-
Sherlock was watching Moriarty, whom was smiling, laughing of him.
-I've an idea, to make the things more funny. Let's make a treasure hunt, won't you? Every time you resolve a crime, you'll receive a little riddle for the next one. Funny, huh?-
-Why you have to do this?-
-Because the life is so boring and you are the one who can make me have fun. I told you. We are the same, and if there isn't something that can't train your mind, you're not happy. It's the same for me.-
He was right. He had the fucking point. Sherlock loved the mysteries, the crimes…
-Okay…what I've to do?-
-I'll tell you…wait for my next text.- says Moriarty, then he goes away.
-I'll defeat you, James Moriarty!-
-I hope so, Sherlock Holmes.- and the he disappeared from his sight.
-Damn, you, Moriarty.-
