Watcher

A serial killer on the loose. Countless deaths. Countless warnings. But Sherlock won't give up.

Because this time he's not doing it to solve the case assigned to him. This time he's trying to work out who's sending the messages that come every time he misses a beat.

"I watched you again today. Wrong once more. Always wrong, my dear Mr Holmes"

Who is the watcher who sees his every move? How much does it know of the mystery? How close is it to the killer? And most importantly, what does it know about Sherlock Holmes?

Estimated Begin Date: October 2016

Prologue – The First
of Many.

It
was a forgotten Alley. Empty. Unused. Later enchanted. The perfect place to
house the Minister of Magic in the plush, hidden rooms that looked onto the
street. No one except close Ministry officials knew the location of Minister
Kingsley Shacklebolt’s home. It was for the best, with much propaganda
spreading again. There was talk of the Watcher, they said, ready to kill and
hungry for blood. The message scrawled on the wall of Gringotts in burnt-out
letters had been enough to scare much of London’s wizarding population.

“I am the watcher. I see your crimes and
sins, you guilty pleasures and your dark secrets. And I, to avenge one you took
from me, will watch you and hunt you down. When I have seen you, there will be
no escape.”

Of
course, the Ministry had calmed down the public. There was no need to worry;
this was only a harmless message to scare them. The ministry had personally
looked into it.

Indeed
they had. And instead of finding it was a hoax to worry the public, they
discovered that the messages were everywhere. Even the Muggle areas, it was
everywhere, on every street, in every alley that was open to their criminal.
The message, in burnt out letters, had travelled far and wide.

And
no one had seen the Watcher. The messages had just appeared – in one flash the
letters had been written and the British Government already looking into it.
There had been contact with the Prime minister – the public were now under the
impression that it was still a hoax, after being calmed down. To be honest,
Kingsley, as he dwelled on the subject smoking a cigarette out in the alley,
thought so too. He had had no fear when out in the open, and had objected to
being issued the private lodging. He was not scared of a hoaxer determined to cause
trouble for the ministry. As he lit another cigarette and stood in the dark,
dim, alley, he was perfectly calm. And completely unaware.

“You.”

A
voice behind him made him turn in a flash, but there was no one there – all he
could have was the sound of air behind rhythmically beat again something – the
sound of a…

Kingsley
had turned his head to look upwards and realised where that sound had come
from. High above him, a monstrous silhouette rose above the ground with
feathered wings that sprouted from its back. It was clad in long, dark robes of
black and the face was hidden by a drooping hood. Except for the smile – the
cruel, white smile that caught the light and sent shivers down his back. In all
his life Kingsley had never seen such a creature….there was no monstrous being
who could compare to his humanoid character he faced. Swallowing hard, Kingsley
attempted to reason with it, trying to stay calm. Despite being a professional
auror and overall extremely brave individual, something about this creature
phased him like nothing else before.

“Who-“

“I
have been watching you.” The being spoke again with words that invoked a
terrible fear in Kingsley’s heart. In the heat of the moment, however, he
noticed that the voice, however eerie it was, held a feminine tone. With all
his courage, he called back:

“Tell
me – who are you?”

The
being laughed, coming down closer. “I judge, Mr. Shacklebolt, not you.” The
smile came again and Kingsley’s heart quaked as it used his name. “And oh, your
sins are great. Greater than any of the ones before.”

More
terror was rising in Kingsleys heart as he tried to work out an escape plan.
The door into the house was nearby – if he could just get in there, he’d be
safe. Not that he wasn’t safe out here, he attempted to reassure himself – it
could be an illusion or a trick, a bad dream.

But
in reality, he knew that this creature was powerful. The messages had been
generated by a great spell all at the same time, and to enter the alley you had
to break enormously strong magical barriers. This creature would not let him
escape.

It
was coming even lower, now, opening it’s smiling mouth to continue. “Did you
enjoy it, Mr. Shacklebolt?” It questioned, the tone now bitter. “I could have
sworn you did.”

“I –
what?” Kingsley was moving now, edging gradually towards the door and pulling
his wand out.

“Oh,
you did. And you helped as well.” Its expression grew vengeful. “I have watched
you sin against him. I watched him die with your help. The watcher. The watcher
who has watched you.” The creature paused, taking a breath. Kingsley took out
his wand, raising it slowly as it continued. “And you….you must pay.”

With
a quick stab, Kingsley raised his wand. “Stupe-“

But
the creature was too quick. It slashed it hand to the right and suddenly
Kingsley’s wand was out of his hand, flying towards it. With another quick
reflex, the creature caught it, looking down at him and holding out in its
hand. Kingsley realised what it was doing and held out his hands in a
instinctual reaction.

“No…please.”
He moved towards the door, trying to get to the house. But the creature,
smiling it’s cruel smile, didn’t hesitate.

“AVADRA
KEDRAVA!”