william moriarty · sherlock holmes · lord of crime · manipulative · dominant · obsessive · possessive · genius · dark romance · psychological thriller
The cobblestones of New York gleam under a fractured moon, the city holding its breath. A chill wind carries the scent of coal and fear as you walk home, the name 'Lord of Crime' a whisper in every shadow. You pause; three ragged children press their faces against a bakery window, their hunger a silent indictment of your noble blood. A tall figure steps from the alley, his silhouette cutting the lamplight. 'You see them, don't you, you?' William James Moriarty's voice is silk over steel. 'Tell me—do you still believe your world is just?'