The Game Begins

“Come on, Sherlock! Just one more time! I promise I won’t make up any more rules!” James screamed as Sherlock began to walk away. Sherlock turned on his heels and stops so he could look straight at James.

          “Do you promise?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow and James nodded his head.  

          That was the last happy memory that James had with Sherlock, well before he left him all alone. James never forgot that day. The day Sherlock left him for a new life and new friends. That was the day he stopped going by James.

          “Never again.” He whispered to himself. Never again will he hear anyone mutter his first name. Moriarty is the name he would forever go by and anyone who ignored the fact that he hated his first name would be severely punished.

         “Watson, I have seemed to scare Mrs. Hudson again.” Sherlock murmured as he searched his flat for their landlandy.

          “What did you do this time? Did you put another severed head in the refrigerator? Most landladies would have taken you to the asylum by now.” Watson said. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at Watson.

          “I’m clearly well enough to not be in an asylum. I have no mental illness and I am not insane. I do not do something over and over again and I certainly would not expect different results.” Sherlock walked over to the front door and opened it. He looked down the stairs and saw Mrs. Hudson carrying up the groceries.

         “Watson! Go help Mrs. Hudson with the groceries!” Sherlock yelled as he walked into the living room and sat down. Watson got up to go help Mrs.Hudson with the groceries since Sherlock decided that he was going to sit and observe. Watson walked down to Mrs.Hudson's car and grabbed the last bit of groceries.

          “So you’re just going to sit there like a lazy bum and watch us do all the work?” Watson said as he set down the last bag.

          “Well, you’re already done so what is the point of trying to help now? Two people are more efficient than three. If I was to help there would always be someone in the way.”  Sherlock said as he picked up the paper and scanned it for the daily crime report.

          “The wife did it. Simple, the kid ran away.” Sherlock muttered his answers to the unsolved crimes then one caught his eye. As he finished reading the last bit of the crime his phone buzzed. He saw that the text is from Detective Lestrade and that he and Watson are needed down at the crime scene immediately.

          “Watson we need to go. There has been a crime committed!” Sherlock said with a little bit too much enthusiasm. Watson shut his laptop and grabbed his coat. As they started to head out the door Mrs. Hudson stopped them.  

          “There are severed fingers in the refrigerator! Sherlock where do you think you are off to? Explain why there are fingers in the refrigerator!” Mrs. Hudson demanded.

         “They are part of my research. I can’t really explain now. Death happens, Mrs. Hudson! We’re off to solve another crime!” Sherlock and Watson ran out of their flat and got a taxi to the address that Detective Lestrade sent him.

        As they arrive at the crime scene Detective Lestrade was tapping his foot impatiently with his arms crossed.

       “What took you so long Sherlock?” Detective Lestrade asked as they entered a room with a dead woman lying on the floor.

          “She’s in her mid to late thirties. No signs of forced entry. Nothing really seems out of place.” Detective Lestrade said.

          “Except for the fact that you overlooked the fact that her hands and feet are missing.” Sherlock bent down and got a closer look at the body. He scanned the body for the obvious signs of struggle. There was no skin under her fingernails where she would have scratched the intruder. The intruder did not kill her as soon as he entered. Sherlock looked at the cuts from where her hands and feet were severed. The wounds where her feet were cut off were cauterized, which means the intruder took his time torturing her. There was little blood flow from the hands, so that means the hands were cut post mortem.

          “She was a tourist. From the looks of it, she just arrived here. Her suitcase is close to where the body now lies and the sheets smell freshly washed.” Sherlock scanned the room for any sign of evidence. He glanced at a something that was on the woman’s lip. He pulled it and discovered that it was a note left from the killer.

Now the game begins.

Find the pieces.

Find the clues,

Before they end up with some unhappy news.

        “What did you find Sherlock?” Detective Lestrade signaled for one of his police man to come get the evidence.

          “Evidence. Take this to the lab and scan it for fingerprints. No killer is this clever.” Detective Lestrade said as he shook his head.

          “There would not be fingerprints on that paper. The killer is obviously a sadistic psychopath. The man or woman that killed her took their time before taking her life. They know how to cauterize wounds, so I have about seven ideas. ” Sherlock explained to Lestrade. Lestrade’s facial expression looked surprised.

          “Seven ideas?” He asked as he raised both eyebrows.

          “Yes. I have a wide range of thought. Unlike you fools who assumes that there is only one way for everything. I’m surrounded by idiots who do not know how to see everything around them.” Sherlock left the room and Watson followed. They head to 221B, their home, so Sherlock could think in peace. Watson walked over to his computer and updated his blog like he usually does whenever the get a new case. Sherlock started to get annoyed with the consistent typing coming from Watson’s computer. Every little click that Sherlock heard threw off his thinking process.

          “Watson, how do you have the time to update that silly little blog of yours?” Sherlock shook his head and continued thinking about the case.

          “If you’re not careful the smoke from your brain overheating will come out from your ears.” Watson muttered to himself. 

          “It’s as simple as that! No forced entry, so the killer was a person that the victim knew! The victim didn’t struggle with the killer at first, so the person was trusted. We need to find out who this woman is and who her closest friends were.” The bell rung and Sherlock got up to answer it. He was hesitant to open the door because of the person that stood there.Those misleading eyes of his, they could make anyone do what he wanted them to do. His smile changed to a frown. The one man he did not want to see today. Sherlock’s sworn enemy, the one he has known for as long as he could remember.

          “Who is at the door Sherlock?” Watson asked as he saw Sherlock frozen at the door.

          “Possibly the worst man on the face of this Earth.” Sherlock said with a serious tone.

          “Are you just going to stand there and not let a friend in?” The man behind the door said.

          “You’re no friend of mine!” Sherlock screamed. Watson raised an eyebrow.

          “That voice sounds really familiar.” Watson got up and turned the door knob. The supposed friend of Sherlock entered the room.

“Mycroft.” Sherlock said with a hateful tone.

          “Ah, Sherlock. Lestrade didn’t tell you? I am now working on the case with you.” Mycroft smiled.

          “Watson, nice to see you again.” Mycroft nodded his head at Watson.

          “And why would they have someone so low on the government force work on the case when they already have me? Surely they know that when a person is gaining more weight it makes it harder for them to run and keep up with a killer on the run.” Sherlock said with a mocking tone.

          “Need I remind you who helped solve two of your cases? And I am on a diet. Thank you so much for your concern Sherlock.” Mycroft said with a snide tone.

          “Well, we’re done with the case today. Why don’t you go visit the diner and we’ll start working together tomorrow?” Sherlock said as he started to push his brother out of the flat. He shut the door in Mycroft’s face.

          “You’re just not letting him in on the case are you? You’re going to go down there and investigate.” Watson said. A sly smile appeared on Sherlock’s face.

          “Watson you know me too well.”