“Oh, hello Shawn. I’ve been wondering when you would arrive.” The pleasant tone in the man’s voice shouldn’t be so chilling, but it is. He seems to sense Shawn’s apprehension, because he smiles, deceptively friendly. “I’m here to talk to you about my dear friend Mr. Yin.” At Shawn’s confused look, he raises his eyes brows. “Did you honestly believe Yin planned all that by himself? Oh— of course you did, didn’t you. You’re surprisingly naive for a psychic.” Here he laughs, like he’s made the most amusing joke in the world.
“What—” Shawn tries to say, but the man speaks over him.
“A psychic! That is a rather brilliant scheme. Most people will believe anything if you’re a good enough liar, isn’t that right, Shawn?” The pleasant tone in his voice has turned a little darker, a little more dangerous. “But enough of that.”
Shawn swallows, gripping his phone tightly. He should have called for someone before he barged in, but, as always, he had thought he could handle it. The man waves around his gun almost lazily, tilting his head.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks, smiling again and Shawn feels kind of sick.
“What do you know about Yin?” he asks, with a confidence he doesn’t really feel. “Who are you?”
“I’m a specialist like you Shawn.” He bows mockingly. “Jim Moriarty at your service. I help those who desire to do something in this world; making dreams come true, as cliché as that sounds.” Moriarty steps forward, spreading his arms out. “As for Yin, well… I sponsor people, help them reach their goals. He had been one of my more ambitious clients, as you know. I spent a lot of time and energy on him. But then you came along and—”
Shawn jumps, making Moriarty laugh and he lowers his smoking gun. Some of the lights above them shower sparks onto the floor.
“I had more plans with him,” he sighs, tapping his fingers against his leg. “You’re very good at what you do, Shawn.” Shawn tenses when Moariarty slightly narrows his eyes. “Perhaps a bit too good, hm?”
“Well, I am pretty fantastic,” Shawn says, grinning wide, forcing down his anger at the realization that Moriarty had been the cause of so much devastation. He swipes at his phone screen with his index finger, counts one… two… three, and then taps. “Inherently awesome, though. All in my genetics— and from my mother’s side, of course.”
Moriarty quirks his lips into a smirk as he raises his gun, aiming at Shawn’s head. “It was nice meeting you, Shawn. Good bye.”