~ John's point of view ~
I almost ran into Sherlock as he had stopped in front of the apartment's entrance. I was about to say something, to tell him to hurry, as he moved on. He walked slower now, not straight up to the laptop, as I would have if I hadn't stop to watch what he was doing, but took off his coat and his scarf.
"Yes that's right", Moriaty's voice said from the laptop, and I finally turned to it to have a look, "Get more comfortable. It's your apartment after all. Let's create a cozy atmosphere."
The lights dimmed a little, but I barely noticed. I could just stare at the screen.
"Sherlock, you said he was dead. Then who is that here?"
I was really frightened now. That. Was. Moriarty. No doubt about that. I had seen him often enough. It was him. He called Sherlock via videochat and was watching us now.
"It has been recorded, John. I told you Moriarty is dead."
Sherlock still walked around the room as if he was looking for something. He didn't seem to find it.
"Very clever, Sherlock. Very clever. And you're right, I am no longer among the living. But doesn't this make things even scarier?"
"That you can't tell your henchmen to kill me or my companions anymore? Yes, tears me apart in fear", Sherlock replied and sat down on the chair in front of the laptop. I walked towards him and stood behind him then, my hand always on the gun in my bag.
"Then you surely have figured out by now what this really is about?", Moriarty asked.
"Yes. Moriarty has killed himself when we were on the roof. Now somebody else has taken his place, some power-hungry ex-employee of his, hello by the way, to continue the work he hasn't been able to finish himself. I don't blame you, sir, everybody would be beguiled by such a position and the possibilities Moriarty's network provide. But to get to that position and take over the legacy people are not allowed to know who you really are, so you have to exterminate me."
"Correct, correct, and correct, but... wrong! Oh Sherlock, people need to know who I am. I am greater than our little Jim could ever have been! And you are going to help me with that, aren't you?"
"Doubt that", I replied now, this was strange enough, and I didn't want to play along no more, "And if you want people to know you, just show yourself. Why hiding behind this mask if you could present yourself the most extraordinary way?"
"He will present himself", Sherlock answered me without seperating his eyes from the screen, "He will give me a case, just like our original Moriarty did, and I will have to solve it. He will show that he is even better than Moriarty, advertise himself and let people know that a new age of criminal consulting has started. My role is to find out who he is, and, in the end, to have a tragic death, I guess. So that this new principle seems to even be better than the old one. He finished the job Moriarty wasn't able to."
"So, when do we start? Hm, hm, what about.. now?"
The screen turned off and we heard a huge explosion outside and below us. Mrs. Hudson! I ran downstairs to look for her at once. There was smoke everywhere, the walls all black, the curtains burning.
"Mrs. Hudson!", I screamed, running towards the door we had found he behind before. Why hadn't we freed her when we had had the chance to?! Why had we listened to that lunatic?! "Mrs. Hudson!"
I arrived at the door, that now was spread all over the floor in small splinters. I sighed with relief as I saw her leaned against the wall, covered in some pieces that used to be protective pillows before, and like a miracle she wasn't injured but coughing.
"John!", I heard Sherlock shouting from above, "John, is she alright?"
"Yes!", I shouted back after having done what was the most necessary.
"Come here, now!"
I went upstairs, he worried me. He usually didn't shout like this. He wanted me to come to him, but he sent a message or something. Yes, it would have been strange in this situation, but we're talking about Sherlock!
"What is it?", I asked, but Sherlock didn't reply. He just stood in front of the window, staring outside, the curtains blowing in the wind. I slowly attended him, looked at him, came to stand next to him. His view was frozen, he didn't even move. I knew that state of his, but not like this. It wasn't just detached as usual, I was able to detect fright in his eyes, but also a sense of excitement.
I slowly followed his view, trying to prepare myself for what I was about to see, but when I saw it, I was unable to move a single cell of my body, except for my mouth that fell open.
On the walls of the building on the other side of the road flaunted big red letters, that dissolved in direction of the floor and seemed to be written in blood:
COME, FIND ME!