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Hope my silent peers out there enjoy my latest literary effort:
BAL MASQUE
All was deceptively calm and serene at 221-B Baker Street. Sitting in his armchair the great detective absently scratched the massive head of an enormous mastiff lying at his side. Meanwhile, Dr. Watson peacefully dozed with the London Times on his lap.
"Moriarty!", exclaimed Holmes abruptly, pronouncing the dreaded name with a dichotomous feeling of admiration and repugnance. "It was he who nefariously purloined the Queen's Magna Carta!"
Startled, Watson groped for words. "Ey, wo-wot ol' m-man? Moriarty, you say?"
"Yes, Watson!", was the hissed reply. "The monstruous fiend seems to lurk everywhere! I dare say, at this precise moment he could even be in this very room!"
"Wh-why, Holmes, surely you're joking," stammered the doctor visibly shaken.
"Am I, Watson?" Crepuscular shadows enveloped the tall, gaunt figure of Holmes as he arose from his chair amid the eerie whimpers of the mastiff. "Am I?," he repeated, his burning, coal-black eyes staring at Watson as those of a wolf about to devour its prey.
Suddenly an amazing transformation took place. The shadowy figure tugged at its head and instead of Holmes' noble, aquiline features, the demonic face of Moriarty was revealed accompanied by a bloodcurdling laugh!
"With you in my power, good doctor," Moriarty sneered, "Holmes will think twice before interfering with me again!"
Contrary to his customary bumbling movements, Watson sprang to his feet with alacrity and also removed a mask that had been hiding his true identity.
"So, Moriarty", said Holmes evenly, "we meet again! Only this time there shall be no escape for you! Come in Inspector!"
Moriarty, for once utterly dumbfounded, was immediately surrounded and securely handcuffed by a small army of constables as well as the Chief Inspector.
"B-but wh-where is Watson?" snarled the arch felon hideously.
In answer, the gigantic hound peered at him sheepishly and removed its own mask!
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