The waterfall raged below the two men staring at each other. The bright full moon rose in the clear night sky. "We don't have to do this!" the taller of the two men called. His top hat was blown off in the wind. The man's black-brown hair was slicked back, and it was wet from the rain that came down earlier. The shorter man laughed and walked closer to the other.

"We don't have to do this?!" he repeated in a low voice that still carried over the roar of the falls. If they were going to do this, then no one would hear their screams. The taller man looked up to the sky to see the moon was still rising. It was getting dark, but he had to do this. Even if he didn't want to.

"Oh, my friend, you are scared. You are scared of losing your lovely friend Watson, aren't you?" the shorter man said, walking closer to the other. William Sherlock-Scott Holmes backed up and looked behind him to see the watery death waiting for him below. The hard rocks that could kill him the moment he lands. Holmes wasn't scared of death. Hell, he liked the unknown, but his enemy was right. What about Watson? Moriarty was right, he was scared of losing him. He would never tell him this, however. Holmes stared at the bottom of the waterfall for a while lost in thought. He had to do this. Holmes swallowed and met the dark eyes of Moriarty. His eyes shined in the moonlight.

"Oh, you want to do this now?" Moriarty said, walking even closer to him. Holmes did not back up, for he knew that he would fall backward and die. That death wouldn't mean anything at all. Holmes let out a breath and punched his enemy, forcing him backward. He shook his hand and stared at Moriarty, who almost fell over. He laughed and shook his head.

"Good one my friend," he said, bringing his hand to the cut on his face. He then turned around and took a deep breath. What Holmes didn't see was the cut on his face heal. Moriarty smiled and turned back around to see Holmes shaking his hand. He knew that he had a hard face and Holmes couldn't feel his hand for a moment. After a moment of Holmes shaking his hand, he let out a crazed laugh. His enemy saw the craziness in his silver-green.

'He's enjoying this.' Moriarty thought, looking at Holmes. He wondered why Holmes didn't see that his eyes were dead. The shorter man smiled darkly and walked over to Holmes because of this. Holmes stood his ground by putting up his hands over his face; however, this did not hide the crazed look in his eyes. Moriarty laughed viciously before he punched him back, almost knocking Holmes over the cliff. Holmes continued to stand his ground before he walked away from the edge. Holmes gave him a thin smile and brought his hand up to his nose and felt the blood trickle from it.

"You will have to do better than that," Holmes called. He went in for another punch, but he tripped and only just managed to catch himself before he fell to the ground. Holmes took a deep breath to pull himself together; however, as he gathered his thoughts, he allowed his enemy to get closer. Before Holmes knew it, a grip settled on his arms and a pain flared in his neck. Wrenching himself free, he stumbled back, not realizing the ground ended just behind him. His left foot treading on free air, his hand shot out and grabbed hold of the other man. Together they fell over the edge, heading for the freezing water below.

The waterfall roaring and a scream that got stuck in his throat was the first sounds that came to his ears. Everything came in all at once. The sound of the falls, the river that the water leads into, the pounding in his ears. Oh, how he hated that pounding. What happened? Was he dead? If he was, then what about Watson? That was the first thing that came to his mind: his best friend, doctor, and flatmate. Watson would be angry, to say the least. He would cry, but he would never show it to people. How could he do this to Watson? Rid him of his friend and, he must admit, the only person that kept him alive and in check?

He shivered when his mind came back into focus. His clothes were wet. So, then he must have been in the river. Then who pulled him out? Holmes shook his head again but still, the pounding won't go away. More pain washed through his body as his eyes opened slowly. Everything hurt, but he welcomed it. It wasn't a new feeling, but he knew that he must be alive if he felt it. How was he alive though? He fell along with Moriarty. Was he dead as well? Holmes shook his head, but this made it pound even more.

'That's a new feeling.' he thought, looking up to the full moon that was high in the sky now. 'Eleven. It's eleven.' he found himself thinking, moving his legs and nodding with a smile. However, he couldn't really move them as much. 'Great.' he thought, annoyed and rolling his eyes. "Watson. I need to get back to Watson.' Holmes thought, trying to stand. However, his legs didn't really want to work more. 'Now I'm stuck here.' Holmes thought, closing his eyes a little; however, they opened fast when he heard something pounding and it wasn't his head.

"Hey! Hey, sir, are you all right?" Holmes heard the muffled voice of someone. "Sir?" the voice called again, but Holmes couldn't find the owner of the voice. So, he just laid there hoping that whomever it was can help him. However, through his partially closed eyes, he saw the person run up to him. Holmes could feel him move him over to his back. This is when Holmes realized that he was laying on his side.

"Sir? Can you hear me?" the voice was more muffed now, for the pounding got louder. It was so loud that he couldn't hear anything else. Holmes opened his eyes, but his vision was all blurry and he couldn't see anything. Then without warning, and before Holmes could stop his body, he jumped up and pushed the poor man to the ground and bit him. He could feel the warm blood go down his throat. At this point, Holmes had no thoughts at all but how much he was loving the feel of this man's blood. Holmes pulled away before he stared down at the man that wasn't moving. He was dead, he just killed a man. Holmes shook his head and got down to his knees to see that there was a bite mark on his neck. He swallowed thickly and ran his hand over his face. He felt the blood on his mouth and looked down at it as he got some on his hand.

'I…I oh, God. I'm…..' Holmes took a deep breath and looked around him. No one was in sight. "I…" Holmes tried using his voice, but it was gruff. "Help!" he called before he broke down in a coughing fit. When it was over, Holmes wiped the rest of the blood off his mouth and stood up. "I.." that is all he could say because he didn't know what to do. Holmes let out a sharp breath and picked up the body before he did the only thing that he could think of. Holmes walked over to the river and threw the body into it. Holmes watched the body go down the stream for a while before he slowly walked away, hoping that no one saw what he just did. However, as Holmes walked away, looking for some form of civilization or life, he didn't see the staked through body of James Moriarty.

A/N: Now that is how you do an opening. Thank you all for reading. This is a better version of vampire Sherlock. As you remember that I tried to write it before but it just didn't work and you guys weren't reading it but I think that you would like this one. Tell me what you think. Did you like it and can you give me any hints? I'm not very good at writing Sherlock. In case you were wounding this story takes place in the world of The Abominable bride which is my favorite ep of Sherlock. Thank you again and I will see you next time. -Captain Voxland