In her previous life,
Anne died in the autumn of 2013.
Anne still remembered that through the window of her ward, she could see rows of poplar trees outside. These tall and straight trees were very common in the north. In late autumn,
The cool wind blew, and countless yellow leaves fell from the treetops like a gorgeous golden rain.
The fallen leaves formed a formation, and for a moment, it would make people feel dazed,
Through them,
One could see the Golden Gate of Heaven.
Perhaps memories would automatically polish and beautify certain scenes,
So now that she thought about it, those autumn scenes..,
Were as beautiful as a fairy tale.
Although in the end, Anne did not find the Golden Gate of Heaven..,
Instead, he started another life in a bizarre way.
Anne had not thought about these things for a long time. The only reason she recalled them now was because..,
It was a pity... the late autumn of 2013 was only a few months away from 2014..
Anne did not live to 2014 in her previous life, so she did not see Shylock's new season of episodes. This also meant..,
That was the end of her role as a prophet of Sherlock's world. She only knew..,
In the "Last Case" of Shylock and Moriarty,
Shylock would not die..,
But he did not know when he would come back.
He did not know that everything..,
From the beginning, was Shylock and Mcauliffe's plan. The goal was to completely eradicate Moriarty and his criminal group.
To them..,
A short separation was just the price they had to pay for success.
..
"You regret it."
This was an affirmative statement.
Early in the morning..,
On a lonely bench in the park, Shylock and Mcauliffe sat side by side.
They both had cigarettes in their hands.
In fact, when Shylock expressionlessly took the cigarette he handed over, Mcauliffe already had the answer in his heart.
The air in early spring was still cold, but on the withered branches that had fallen leaves, one could already see the new greenery that had recovered.
Regret?
Shylock gently exhaled a puff of smoke and turned his head to look at Mcauliffe. "Why should I regret it?"
"Oh, Shylock." Mcauliffe's tone was a little gloating. "You should find a mirror to look at the expression on your face first, and then tell me if you really don't regret it."
"Is that so?" Shylock's voice was as calm as the light smoke floating silently in the air.
"You know what I'm talking about, Shylock." Mcauliffe shook the black umbrella leaning against the bench and said slowly, "Can I continue to believe that you are still the calm and rational Sherlock Holmes from before?"
"You have to believe me, don't you, my dear brother?" Sherlock's lips curled into a sinister smile.
Mcauliffe paused for a moment and then said, "… Yes, I have to." He put the cigarette to his mouth and took a deep breath. "I hope I didn't make a mistake."
Shylock raised his head slightly and slowly blew the smoke into the air. The mist of smoke quickly dissipated in the slightly cold morning air.
"This is a really good suggestion," he said. Making Mcauliffe make a mistake sounded very attractive.
Mcauliffe looked at his silly brother beside him and narrowed his eyes. "I don't think I need to remind you, Shylock. Only by completely eliminating Moriarty can everyone be really safe, including your little girl."
Shylock snorted coldly through his nose.
The two Holmes sat quietly and finished their cigarettes.
Behind them was a green meadow, from winter to spring, silent and withered.
When the cigarette burned to the end, only a bare cigarette butt was left. Shylock frowned and said with a look of disgust, "This is a low-tar cigarette."
The cigarette butt was thrown to the ground and slowly extinguished with a foot.
Shylock stood up from the bench and straightened the collar of his coat with both hands.
"Goodbye, Mcauliffe."
"Shylock." Mcauliffe suddenly said behind him.
Shylock didn't turn around, but he stopped.
“She
will
be
Fine (She'll be fine). " Mcauliffe's voice at this moment was almost sincere and gentle. "I think I have to take back what I said before. Compared to her weak appearance, she has an optimistic and tenacious heart."
After a long time, Shylock said softly, "I know."
After saying that, he stepped forward and walked into the cold morning wind.
She had a tenacious heart. However, he didn't want her to rely on tenacity to continue her life. He just wanted to keep her soft heart.
.
The Female Ripper was dead.
Moriarty killed her.
This was truly an unexpected turn of events.
And she died in the apartment at 221B Baker Street.
Anne didn't understand what Moriarty wanted to do. Maybe he was just bored and came to chat with Anne.
Scotland Yard had also entrusted Shylock with the case of the Female Ripper, but he had never solved the case. Shylock knew very well that Moriarty had hidden the person.
Until this "Napoleon of the criminal world" released the murderer to kill Anne on an ordinary afternoon in early spring.
In the apartment at 221B Baker Street, Shylock and Watson went to Scotland Yard.
Only Anne and Mrs. Hudson were there.
The last time she narrowly escaped death, Anne had wondered why the Female Ripper didn't kill her before she escaped.
This terrifying murderer originally had a chance. With just one stab, Anne had no chance of survival.
Now, Anne finally knew the answer. Because the murderer didn't just want to kill, but also wanted a sense of ritual.
This was what Moriarty told Anne. He even let Anne observe what the so-called sense of ritual was.
Sense of ritual …
Anne believed that this word would leave a deep shadow in her heart for the rest of her life.
The sun in early spring was warm and soft, and the bright light shone in through the window. The dust suspended in the air floated quietly in the clear and transparent light. But this was a nightmare. Fear slowly seeped through every pore on her skin.
Moriarty not only killed the Female Ripper, but he also used the Ripper's bloody method of disemboweling and slitting her throat.
Anne didn't have any pleasure of "giving him a taste of his own medicine." She only felt a deep sense of fear …
Ever since the major media outlets exposed the news of the Ripper, it wasn't that Annie hadn't thought that she would be targeted again. However, even if she were to imagine it a thousand times, she would never have thought that it would be the scene before her.
When the cute Mr. Bentley saw the murder scene for the first time in Longbourn, he exaggerated that he would have nightmares for three months. As for Anne, who was forced to watch a person being disemboweled alive … She didn't know how long she would have nightmares.
Some people said that all the ugliness in a person came from a deformed society and a deformed life. There was nothing one could do about it.
Anne knew nothing about Moriarty's past, so she didn't know what caused him to become the person he was now. She didn't want to know either.
In her previous life, Anne, like all the people who liked this series, could get Moriarty's cuteness from his various actions. She even downplayed his crimes as "troublemakers."
But now … facing this person, Annie could only feel a chill down her spine, and her heart trembled!
When one of Moriarty's men was dissecting a living person in the middle of the living room, the king of the criminal world was sitting elegantly and calmly on the sofa, holding a cup of fragrant hot tea in his hand.
Anne was arranged to sit on the other sofa, opposite Moriarty with cold hands and feet. Her gaze was fixed on the teacup in Moriarty's hand, not daring to move an inch.
However, the sound of the sharp blade cutting through the skin and moving inch by inch into the flesh was infinitely magnified, and could be heard clearly … And the person under the tip of the blade couldn't immediately die, and could only let out weak cries of pain … In the end, even these cries of pain couldn't be made, and only rapid gasps were left. Their broken bodies were spread out on the ground like a pile of rags, and would occasionally twitch nervously …
Anne pinched her palms hard, trying to keep herself calm and collected, but it was no use. The current situation was completely beyond her tolerance.
She was really glad that Mrs. Hudson was knocked out at the beginning. Anne now only hoped that someone could knock her out directly.
Another century had passed, but in reality, it was only a few minutes. Anne finally couldn't stand it anymore. She leaned sideways on the sofa and vomited violently. Tears burst out of her eyes in an instant.
Lunatic. She was facing a lunatic.
"Oh, Anne, Anne, Anne …" Moriarty whispered her name softly, like a sympathetic whisper, "Your reaction disappointed me."
"Why did you do this?" Anne lowered her head, tears falling on the carpet under her feet drop by drop. She really didn't understand. Why did he waste time on her? What did he want?
Moriarty gently put the teacup back on the saucer, leaned over, and gently stroked her long blonde hair. His voice became softer and softer, "This is a game between Shylock and me. He dragged you in, dear. Do you know how easy it is to defeat Shylock because of your existence? It's so easy that I feel bored. So, I have to find some fun by myself. "
Anne closed her eyes.
The strong smell of blood that filled the living room was nauseating. The person lying on the carpet was no longer moving.
"You know that we will come to this point, don't you, Anne? Shylock and I, the last problem between us. We have to solve it. "
Moriarty lowered his head, leaned in front of Anne, and suddenly asked with interest, "Who do you think will win?"
Anne's throat was dry and tight, and she couldn't say a word.
"Oh, Shylock. Of course you'll choose Shylock. " Moriarty looked at her with tolerance. "You already know what I'm going to do, don't you, Anne?"
Anne was silent, but her heart was pounding like a drum.
Moriarty's hand that was stroking her hair suddenly tightened. Anne's scalp hurt, and she was forced to raise her neck. Moriarty's breath hit her throat.
"What do you think Shylock will do if I kill you like this rag you're looking at now and throw you in front of him?"
Moriarty pulled her hair and forced her to look at the cruel blood in the middle of the living room.
Anne's face turned as pale as a sheet, and she trembled in fear.
She wasn't afraid of her own life, but that Shylock … wouldn't be able to take it.
Moriarty was very satisfied with Anne's expression. "Detective Holmes's desperate expression. Just thinking about it makes me excited."
Moriarty approached Anne, his lips almost touching the skin on her neck. He took a deep breath, intoxicated. It was as if the struggle and despair that she was now exuding was a smell that he liked very much.
After a few seconds, Moriarty finally let go of his hand and tidied her messy hair gently. He smiled and said, "Don't be afraid, darling. I was just joking. How could I bear to hurt you? I have to keep you for her … "
At this point, Moriarty suddenly paused for a moment before continuing with his usual expression, "With you as an audience, the game is more fun. I like challenges, and I like to see my prey struggle with all her might, only to realize in the end that she can't change anything. "
…
Anne didn't know when Moriarty left. In the quiet afternoon, in the living room of 221B, there was only the broken body left to accompany her.
Anne curled herself into a small ball on the sofa and looked up at the sky outside the window. The corner of the sky was actually green, like the green and flat grass of the Rosings Manor.
She vaguely heard Lisa's anxious voice shouting, "Miss Deboer!"
But Miss Deboer was lying lazily on the grass in the depths of the garden, pretending not to hear it.
"Okay, Anne, come out quickly. I know you're here. You should go practice."
That was … Darcy's voice.
"Anne, you played three wrong notes yesterday. If you make another mistake today, Mrs. Jiang Jinsheng will punish you!"
Georgiana …
"My dear Anne, if you're tired, you can practice tomorrow. You've already played very well. "
Mom …
I miss you so much. What should I do?
…
Urgent sirens echoed throughout Baker Street. Several police cars were parked in front of Apartment 221B, blocking off the street. The police officers of Scotland Yard quickly set up a cordon.
The door was kicked open. Chaotic footsteps sounded on the stairs, but they suddenly stopped at the door, as if they were afraid of alerting someone.
Shylock stood at the top of the stairs and saw the room full of blood at a glance. His breathing stagnated and returned to normal in an instant. At least, the person lying on the ground wasn't her.
The sun was setting in the west, and the light gradually faded. Anne sat on the sofa hugging her knees. She looked very calm. Her pale face was expressionless, and her light green eyes were wide open as she looked up at the window.
Seeing Shylock really angry, she realized that his cold arrogance in the past could be called gentle. At this moment, there was no expression on his face. His handsome face was as cold as a cold lake in winter.
But when he walked to Anne's side, the coldness around him immediately disappeared.
When a slightly cold hand touched the back of her hand, Anne trembled violently.
Then she heard a familiar voice, low and gentle. "… It's okay, Anne. It's me … "
Anne's eyes that were frozen at the window moved. In the blink of an eye, the familiar green had disappeared. The sky was turning dark, and the light was fading. The end of the world was orange.
Anne looked down and saw the large hand wrapped around the back of her hand. It was fair and slender, with distinct joints.
Shylock …
"It's me." As if answering the voice in her heart, Shylock immediately responded.
Anne turned her head and looked at him.
She only had eyes for him, and didn't notice that Watson and Mrs. Hudson were also there. Even Detective Lestrade, Donovan, and Anderson were also there.
Anne looked down at Shylock, who was squatting in front of her. His expression was cold and tense, and his beautiful eyes were looking back at her patiently and attentively.
Perhaps it was because the color of his pupils was very light, like a clear gem that could reflect all the light at any time. Anne even felt that she had seen billions of galaxies in the depths of his eyes.
The shadows of the sun outside the window hadn't dissipated. The light shone in through the glass window, creating a faint shadow on the carpet.
Anne kept looking at him carefully, not even letting go of the guilt and worry in his eyes.
This was the man she had wholeheartedly in her heart.
However, their worlds were so different.
At this moment, Anne almost tacitly agreed with what Mcauliffe had said before. They were … not suitable …
This was truly a sad and despairing matter.
The living room was full of people, and there was even a dead body. But at this moment, no one said a word.
Anne wanted to hug him, but just as her arms moved, her eyes inadvertently swept across the carpet again … The entire carpet was soaked in blood … Anne only felt her heart tighten, and her whole body turned cold.
Shylock's fair and beautiful hand had already reached over first, covering her eyes and covering her light green pupils. Then, with a slight force of his other hand, he firmly pressed her into a familiar embrace.
Through the thin shirt, Anne could feel the warmth of his body, but she still felt cold. It was bone-chilling.
Shylock carried her up without saying a word. The black coat blocked her view, and he walked past the silent crowd to the bedroom.
She had an optimistic and tenacious heart, and Moriarty was destroying it.
…
Anne was placed on the bed by Shylock. However, he did not get up. Instead, he leaned over and covered her body like a thick quilt.
Anne didn't know if he knew that she was cold, so he wanted to warm her up.
She just reached out and gently stroked his brow, asking in a low voice, "Are you very disappointed in me?"
Today's scene was nothing to Shylock or Watson, but she was so frightened. Didn't he feel disappointed?
When Moriarty said that he was disappointed, Anne didn't feel anything, because she didn't care. But he was Shylock. The only person she cared about in this world.
She was also very disappointed in herself. Disappointed in herself for not being stronger? She had once promised him that she would learn to protect herself and not cause him trouble. But it turned out that some gaps couldn't be closed by human effort.
She was really scared today.
It wasn't just the hellish scene that Moriarty had brought, but also a cruel truth that he had uncovered.
Shylock looked down at her for a while, then kissed her forehead. He loosened his arms on both sides and pressed on her more heavily, as if he wanted her to feel his presence more clearly.
Annie groaned softly from the pressure and looked up at him.
The curtains in the bedroom were drawn, and only the dim light of the table lamp shone on his face. The shadows under the light and his eyes were deep, and he was too good-looking.
"Annie." His hoarse voice drifted to her ears, carrying a different kind of emotion. "Today, I only hope that you can remember one thing."
What?
Anne looked at him blankly.
Shylock looked down at her. She had never seen such a deep gaze before. It was like there were sparks, squeezing out the fear and coldness in her body bit by bit.
When his hand reached under her clothes and pressed against her skin, Anne trembled slightly. But the trembling now was completely different from the trembling of fear before.
And when his kiss landed, Anne's heart burned. Not only did the coldness fade away, but it also burned with fire.
But the fire wasn't just burning her, it was burning him too.
Both of them were breathing heavily. Anne was roasted by his scorching breath, and her mind was completely blank.
But she widened her eyes, trying very hard to see him clearly.
Her Shylock.
"I'm here." He immediately responded to her with a voice that pierced through her heart.
It was a long, patient, and hurried kiss, as if there was no end to it …
Her skin suddenly came into contact with the coolness in the air …
Anne was so nervous that she subconsciously wanted to grab onto his shirt. But when she reached out, she felt a warm and smooth skin. She didn't know when he had already … stripped … her … naked …
His burning body made Anne feel at a loss. She wanted to curl up deeper, but his burning body followed her like a shadow …
His body was burning with raging flames, licking every inch of her skin, wanting to engulf her whole body and burn her away.
… It was so light, so heavy, so itchy, and so … painful. She could only call out his name again and again, but in exchange, it made her feel even more restless …
There seemed to be a white ray of light flashing past her eyes. She didn't know what it was, but it was so fast that she couldn't catch it.
When Anne's drowsy consciousness was about to follow the white ray of light, she vaguely heard him whisper something in her ear.
"Now, you're really mine …" His cold voice seemed to be drenched in sweat, and every drop of it heavily knocked against her heart.
Separated by a door, the bloody noises retreated further and further …
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