I wasn't wearing my mask. I usually didn't, unless I was going to be getting near Sherlock. Even around Watson I would be without a mask.
I was around Watson right now.
I decided not to kill him, but I decided to do a little trick. You can call it magic, but I call it a psychological curse.
He was walking down towards Sherlock's home.
I walked close to him and tapped him on the back of the leg with my cane. Then immediately I whispered, "Corpse." I whispered it so fast that he didn't even react to it. This was all psychological.
Then I slipped a drawing out of my pocket, it was a skeleton. I tapped on the back of his leg again.
Suddenly Watson whispered, "Corpse." he of course, was not aware of this. In a flash, I spun him around, showed him the picture, then slapped him across the face.
He faced Sherlock's home, and continued walking.
He was now under a psychological curse. Everything I had just done, was science.
I smiled, watching him walk down the street.
I slipped on my mask, and then continued to walk.
The nice thing about my mask, was that I never had to worry about drawing attention to myself. It was the kind of mask that looked as though I was wearing it to a party. And since in London, parties are thrown almost everyday, no one gave me a double look.
I walked behind Watson, not very close, but close enough to hear him whistle.
He walked into the house, and I walked around back, and peaked through the little hole in the wall.
"Hello Watson." Sherlock said, looking over some papers, "I have something I'd like to discuss with you."
"Okay." Watson said, in a shaky tone.
At this very moment, the picture that I had flashed before his eyes, was still circling in his mind. He was almost in a trance.
Sherlock noticed something was wrong, "Watson, are you alright?"
Then he did it. Sherlock reached out and tapped the back of Watson's leg. He tapped it to get Watson's attention. But that tap created a flash back.
Watson whispered, "Corpse!"
Sherlock frowned, "Corpse?"
Then Watson spun around. It was almost as if he was now reacting to what I had done earlier. He proceeded to put up his hands, trying to block an imaginary blow. Then he brought up his fist, right into Sherlock's jaw. Sending him back against the wall.
Only smart people could understand how this psychological trick works. Sherlock was considered smart, so I decided to get out of there before he figured it out.
I smiled, and walked away, dropping a note as I left. It didn't say much, it just said:
Don't let Watson sleep, I'll be in his dreams...
Your friend, Corpse