Not. It wasn't. The men let go of him but still stood too close for him to try and run. He approached it and touched the door gently with the tips of his figures. Then he felt something, like an engraving. He looked more closely and saw his name engraved in what was probably Moriarty's hand writing into the iron. "I put some work into it you know…" Moriarty said, looking pleased with Sherlock's obvious appreciation look. "People didn't have interesting requests back then so I had to do something with my time."

Sherlock took a quick glimpse at the bored psychopath standing next to him and all at once opened the door. He glanced at the worried workers one last time before walking in, trying to understand the meaning of their fear. But he couldn't seem to realize. He paced slowly into the room. Holding his hands behind his back. He stood at the middle of it and looked around.

It was very little and the ceiling was low, about 30 centimeters above his head. The walls were painted with pale grayish blue that reminded him much of the pale gray his cell was painted in. There were no windows and the room was lighten by a single old lamp hanging from the ceiling. He was now facing the door that has just been closed by Moriarty after he and the two men walked in. On his left he saw a little wooden table that was attached to the wall. On that table he saw an old computer screen and an old keyboard, both covered in dust. Next to the table was a chair and the rest of the room was empty.

Slowly he approached it cleaning the dust with his finger. "It was closed for years now… You can clean it if you'd like." Sherlock didn't even turn around to face him. He set on the chair and stared into the empty black screen. "Is that it?" he asked. "Instead of engraving my name into the door you could make that room look much better." He smiled coldly and Moriarty looked at him. "Well?" Sherlock continued, he just wanted it to be over. Moriarty didn't even move, neither did Sherlock. They were both staring at each other when suddenly the screen turned on and a picture of a little shopping center appeared. Well, he thought it was a picture but then he noticed movements.

It was a security camera video. Immediately he understood what was going to happen next. Moriarty knew he did. "Well, go on." He said. "Go ahead, blow it up." He looked at the screen and then back at Sherlock "Why would you like to blow this dreadful place up?" Sherlock asked. He didn't want to do it but knew what will be the consequences if he won't. "No reason." Moriarty replayed "Just for fun." He looked at Sherlock impatiently. "How?" "You know how." he said, his eyes longing for blood. Of course he knew how. It was easy but there were people in there. Sentiment. He should really stop doing that. It was John or them. He had no choice but of course it wasn't true. If it was for John he would tell Sherlock to spare them but he couldn't let him die.

Moriarty started to lose the little amount of patient he got left. And all of a sudden he did. He pushed Sherlock out of the chair, pushed few buttons and in a blink of an eye the building was replaced by a huge ball of fire."What a shame" he said "they had great pizza".

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