Chapter 13

Mafia Members: ?

Detective: 1. Greg Lestrade, 2. Sherlock Holmes

Doctor: John Watson

Towns People: Jacob Faults,?

Everyone sat in the tiny conference room either enraged or frustrated. It seemed nobody wanted to cooperate and whenever they did come up with some plan somebody always had some problem with it. To almost everyone else in the room Sherlock, Dr. Watson, DI Lestrade and DI Wick seemed like a heartless bunch who didn't care what happened to the town or the people living in it.

Jacob Faults, one of the last living Fault relatives, was dead because of them and the towns members suddenly seem to remember how to morn someone.

So when voting time came no one wanted to vote. No matter who they were voting against or how much the detectives urged them to vote, no one would raise there hands.

Sherlock nodded towards himself after the final call for voting. "Alright, this will have to satisfy The Narrator for now. But don't be surprised if one of you is found dead the next morning. And not just because of this game. This 'narrator' is ruthless, they will stop at nothing to get what they want. We haven't broken any rules yet so if she/he does give us any trouble we can always throw that at them. But if any of you loved ones, friends, neighbors turns up dead within the next few days, you'll know why."

The room turned silent.

"I don't know how I'm going to face them ever again." Jacob Fault said as he sipped some soup his 'captivators' brought him.

"I mean, yeah I know they were scared. But hell, they voted to kill me! Like actually kill me! I know I'm not really a part of this town...But still! I don't even wanna think of how Alice is handling all of this!"

"You'll be surprised to find that Alice is doing fine. Yes, she does miss you, but she's stronger than you give her credit for." Sherlock said as he leaned against the door frame that led to the cellar of the morgue.

"Yeah, she always was. Whose watching her anyways?"

"That would be the Charlies. There's a summer house by the shore near by that were going to be staying at. Since the Charlies are going to have more room and have a kid around Alice's age we thought she'd best be there." Said John who had just come entered the room with extra blankets and pillows."

"Good, good. So, who did they vote for this time? I guess I'll be rooming with someone than?"

"No, it seems they're finally seeing what effects their actions cause them and didn't vote for anyone at all!" DI Wick said putting more soup in Jacob's bowel.

"Thank you. Really? Well, good for them! Maybe they'll figure something out and find out who this Narrator is!"

"I highly doubt it. In fact I'm almost certain they'll end up angering the Narrator even more. It won't surprise me if we find another dead body by tomorrow, and not one of the members of this game. They're scared, they have no clue how much power their choices hold...they're scared to make the wrong choices, to have the guilty conscience of having an innocent man's death on their hands. Instead of keeping an innocent man from death they're going to be condemning them..."

That afternoon, Sherlock and John had lunch at the 'Saw Mill Diner'. They sat in a booth next to a window and would casually take turns glancing out it.

"Do you have any idea who shot at me last night?" The question had been bugging John for sometime now. None of the people in the town looked like they had ever been in the military, and the shooter had obviously been a sniper ("Really John, who else could have made that shoot?").

"Someone trying to be clever."

"Trying? You mean you don't think they're part of the game?"

"Oh yes, they're very much part of the game. But I think they're more of a power card them a player."

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone in this game is a player. As you know John, when per say, Moriarty did his little 'games' there were players and pieces. Moriarty would use you against me, making you a piece. But this 'Narrator' they're different. They like to scare people, to fill people with horror and dread. Everyone in this game is a player with a specific role. If even one person deviates from their role they jeopardize the game."

As they continued to eat John noticed Alice, Joshia and Susan Charlies enter into the diner. John quietly mumbled Sherlock's name and nodded with his head towards the three that had each taken a seat by the bar.

"Don't you think we should take Alice somewhere safe? I mean, this 'Narrator' could easily break into the Charlies and kill her."

"I think if the Narrator wanted Alice dead she would be. Maybe our little game is satisfying them enough. Perhaps this narrator is going to make an example out of her, or just favors children. Either way, whoever they are would have already acted if they wanted her gone. No, they're saving her till the end."

"Poor kid, first her parents, then her brother now her uncle. Whoever this person is must really have it in for the Faults family."

"Whoever this person is." Sherlock began without taking his eyes off of Alice. "They don't just hate the Faults family, they despise them. It's not just the Faults family, it's everyone they're related to. Jacob Faults hardly ever came to this town, which means that this person doesn't just hate the Mayor and his family, but the Faults as a whole."

"So...Like some kind of family feud?" John said as he popped some food into his mouth.

"We need to find out everything we can about the Faults family. Next time we speak to Jacob we need to be sure to ask him-"

"Mr. Holmes!"

The two man put on their most pleasant smiles when they saw Alice coming over towards them. Her blonde hair up in Pig tails bobbed along her head as she skipped over to the men. "Hello Alice! Having a good time with the Charlies?"

"Oh yes Dr. Watson! Joshia and I went outside and played in his treehouse!"

"Sounds like fun!" John replied.

"Alice, do you remember anyone who might have been mad with you father?" Sherlock said, steepling his fingers.

The young girl though for a moment. She twisted her lips and even squinted her eyes shut at one point. "I don't think so...Daddy was also busy at work so I never really heard anything. The only time I ever heard anything was at dinner. But I don't think he ever mentioned someone being mad with him...Well...Miss. Clarence was mad at him once...But I don't think she'd ever kill him!"

"Why was Andra Clarence mad with your father?"

"Oh...Well you see there was a school play my class put on. Daddy had to work late that night and couldn't make it. Miss. Clarence said that it made a bad impression on the people even the mayor wouldn't even go see a play his own daughter was in."

"Sherlock this is insane! Andra wouldn't murder a whole family just because some student, who she doesn't even teacher, from her school's father didn't go see some play! Besides, Alice said it was just her father who didn't go, which means there's a fairly good chance her mother and brother did!"

John raced after Sherlock who was talking long strides down the street heading towards Andra Clarence's house.

"Whoever the Narrator is has something against the Faults family. There's a good possibility that there looking for reasons to murder each family member. Something not only justifies them in their own eyes, but the towns people as well. Mayor Faults might have been criticized for not going to his daughter's play, Daniel was made to look like he was doing drugs, each person did something that would be 'looked down upon'." Sherlock concluded.

"But what about Blake? He wasn't related to the Faults. Why did he die Sherlock?"

Sherlock stopped and turned on spot to look at John. He knew what he was about to say would upset John. "Blake died...to motivate us. The Narrator knew we won't just go along we their plan. Killing Blake was never part of the original plan. Blake's death was nothing more than a casualty to the Narrator."