The Final Message [One-Shot] Sneak Peak
WARNING: THIS IS A FANFICTION, IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN SHERLOCK OR WANT TO, I SUGGEST YOU DO NOT READ THIS BECAUSE IT DOES CONTAIN SPOILERS. IF YOU DON'T CARE, THEN READ AWAY.
"Dad, can you tell Sherlock to please calm down?"
"He's not going to listen, instead he'll become an even bigger thorn in my ass."
"I'm not worried" Sherlock announced as he walked into John's living room. "I just want things to go right."
Rosie rolled her eyes and took another sip of soda from her Coke can. John crossed his arms and watched as Sherlock skimmed the house, probably doing calculations on how high each banner and balloon should be. Ironically enough, that was exactly what Sherlock was doing. Measurements and numbers zoomed across his mind and what part of the decorations he was looking at. There was one banner that particularly irritated Sherlock, and that was the banner hung on the staircase that was close to the front door.
It was centered poorly, and there were two deductions he couldn't shake off. If the banner was placed higher, the strong breeze of people opening and closing the front door would off center it even more. If it was placed lower, the people coming in would skim it or trip over it causing it to tear.
"Rosie!" Sherlock shouted.
"I'm right behind you, there's no need to shout" she answered, already feeling irritated.
"Can't we move this somewhere else? If we keep it here and move it up-"
"Sherlock," Rosie sighed. "Please just leave it there. I know that it's crooked and it's driving you mad, but I'm not moving it."
He turned around with a perplexed look on his face. She just gave him a “please-just-stop” look and took another sip of her soda. Sherlock had never grown used to Rosie's impertinence, it was too much like Mary's. In fact, Rosie herself looked too much like Mary. The same round head and sharp jaw, as well as soft blonde hair. Her bright smile and eyes could make any head turn and give her their full attention.
There were small differences though, it’s something that actually fascinated Sherlock. Rosie’s eyes were both green and blue, she had been born with heterochromia. On top of that, she preferred to keep her hair longer, a little below her breasts. During that day, Rosie threw it up into a messy bun and walked around in an old t-shirt and sweatpants. That also bothered Sherlock.
“Why aren’t you dressed? Guests will be showing up in two hours!” He said.
Rosie smiled. “I’ll get dressed soon, don’t worry.”
Sherlock started to become more and more impatient. There he stood in his nice button up purple shirt that hugged his skinny and fit chest a little too tight and black trousers, ready for this party. Then there was Rosie, who looked like she was about to go to sleep. “If you’re waiting for Andrea to come round, she’s going to be late. She lives on the other side town and it’s Saturday which means traffic is particularly bad today. You’re waiting for her to arrive at two, but she won’t be here until two thirty. The party starts at three and you don’t want to be late so I suggest you start getting ready now.”
Rosie stopped sipping her Cola and blinked once. “Alright then, thank you for that break down.”
As she made her way toward the stairs, Sherlock was waiting for the perfect time to move the banner elsewhere. By the time she reached the top, he already began taking it down.
“Leave the banner where it is, Sherlock!” Rosie shouted from upstairs.
He groaned and stopped trying to take it down. His name was called from the kitchen, it was John. Upon entering, chips, fruit, and all sorts of snacks as well as different drinks were set up on the marble kitchen counter. Cups, paper plates, napkins were placed everywhere for everyone to pick up. John had just finished setting them up and was already dressed in his blue jeans and a nice button up shirt which Sherlock noticed were ironed particularly well. He was trying to make a better impression on Rosie’s friends, but God knows how she’ll react to it. To Sherlock, it was quite clear John had called him in to talk about something, most likely give him a lecture.
“If you're going do nothing but give me a headache, then please just stop now” Sherlock said.
“No,” John retorted while pointing his index finger at his best friend. “Please listen to Rosie and I. You're worrying too much and causing too much of a fuss. You know that she wants this to be a bit more casual because she’ll be going out tonight to dinner with her fr-”
“Yes,” Sherlock rudely interrupted. “And there two boys will try to win her over which will make her slightly uncomfortable and want the night to end. One boy she’s torn between just friendship or kicking his arse out the door, and the other she had already developed feelings for. Andrea will sit next to her rooting for the two of them while the other boy stabs into his food angrily. Doesn't sound like a great birthday to me, which is why I want to make this perfect.”
John balled his hands into a fist and groaned. “Sherlock, promise me you won't tell her that. Just let her have this day.”
Sherlock rose an eyebrow. He was actually confused at what John had said. “Why wouldn't I tell her? This is her big party after all.”
“Just please don't, alright?” John asked. Sherlock nodded and turned around to leave the room.
“One more thing,” John called after him.
Sherlock felt that he was on the verge of tearing his messy, curly hair out of its roots. “Yes, I know, don't be a massive cock to her friends.”
[Author's Note]
Criticism is appreciated on this, I'd love to hear some thoughts on it. Also, if you guys liked it and want me to post the entire one-shot, please to comment and tell me. Thank you all for all of the support, you're all amazing. x
Chapter One: When Dusk Turns Dark (Excerpt from Game of Death)
With no shoes on, she was small. She had quite a willowy, delicate frame that only added to her elegance despite the fact she was perceived as weak and frail. Her skin was as pale and as smooth as porcelain, making the girl almost look like a china doll, with her short, blonde hair framing her face delicately, not a strand out of place. Her eyes seemed to resemble polished sapphires, glistening in the moonlight, and her lips were ruby red. Her dress draped around her body, fitting perfectly just like a glove to a hand.The skirt was fashioned out of smooth, milky white, frothy organza that reached her knees. A satin sash pulled in her waist, making it looking smaller than it already was. The bodice of her simple yet glamorous dress was encrusted with tiny little gems and beads that caught the soft moonlight and glowed. The girl walked with the grace of a nimble gazelle and was as bewitching as a peacock showing off her beautiful feathers.
The girl, known as Pearl, had never felt more terrified and insecure. All her life, she had spoken every word strongly and surely, each command strong. Now, for the first time in her life she found herself faced with uncertainty.
The moment she’d volunteered for the elemental games, everyone had been so certain that she would return victorious, and had completely disregarded the rest of the competition. And despite all their words of encouragement, she knew that she was incapable of winning. Which was the main reason for her sneaking out in the middle of the night for a calm walk in the woods.
She let out a sigh and leaned against a tree, the scent of petrichor infiltrating her nostrils. Terrified, she thought of the upcoming morning. There would be tears and goodbyes as she departed for the games, no doubt about it, but she couldn’t help but feel that she might never see any of her family or friends ever again.
Suddenly, an arrow nicked her ear as it flew past, thudding into a nearby tree. Pearl was immediately alert. No one from her tribe went hunting this late at night, and there could only be one possible explanation. It was an invasion.
But then, Pearl thought in a moment of confusion, Why aren't there any horses? Where is the army? The soldiers adorned in shining silver armor should have been visible under the light of the moon.
She trembled as she attempted to come up with an explanation. But before she could form a single thought, a tall figure leapt over the brush in front of her, landing with a light thud, so soft she barely heard it. She automatically reached for her knife, but realized that she was unarmed, wearing only a thin nightgown. There was only one option, she realized as the figure nocked an arrow. She turned and fled into the darkness.
She heard the whizzing sound, and she rolled on the forest floor as five arrows sailed overhead. Her thoughts raced as she ran. No archer she knew could shoot that many arrows in one shot, and there was no possible explanation nor reason some other tribe would send a single man to kill her. That's when it dawned upon her that it was none other than an assassination attempt. This one thought compelled her to move faster.
The assassin wasted no time in following after her. They took to the trees, leaping from branch to branch covering ground ten times quicker than their target. In the faint moonlight that shone through the trees, it was clear to see the girl as she fled towards her village, her nightgown a white beacon in the dark night.
Breathing hard, Pearl came to a halt. She spun around, trying to catch a glimpse of her attacker, but there was no one to be seen around. Relieved, she turned towards her village gates, which was just beyond the edge of the wilderness, no more than a few feet away.
And that's when the arrow pierced her leg. She let out a guttural cry as she collapsed on the forest floor, a pool of blood already forming around her. A hooded figure stepped out of the shadows, and Pearl scrambled up, struggling to see her attacker through the tears that formed in her eyes.
“What do you want?” She cried, as the figure advanced. “Help! Help!”
She threw a desperate look to the edge of the woods. Why was no one coming? Could no guard hear her cries?
The figure laughed, advancing, and Pearl choked back a sob.
“Who are you?” She whispered, staring up into the cold merciless eyes of her killer. She would never get her answer. She gasped as something pierced her lower abdomen. Looking down she saw a knife buried deep inside her stomach. Tears pooled in her eyes, and then she felt something deep inside her give up and turn off. She became limp and motionless, dead in a pool of her own blood.
The hooded figure smirked, before withdrawing a small pendant. She placed it atop the pool of blood and the necklace went from blue to a bright shade of scarlet. She placed it around her neck and a bright flash light illuminated the woods. In the place where the assassin stood a girl that looked exactly like Pearl, blonde hair, green eyes, everything accounted for except for clothing.
She smiled down at the dead body at her feet.
“Isn’t it obvious?” She asked. “I’m Pearl Evelyn Wavecrest of the Water tribe.”