"I will burn down the whole fucking world until you have nowhere to turn but my arms."
Jim Moriarty has always loved fairytales. In particular, grim, macabre ones that end in bloodshed. You've been abused by your step-family for years - in every me...
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"PERHAPS PRINCE CHARMING THROWS HIS BALL TO FIND VICTIMS, RATHER THAN WIVES."
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It's strangely easy to get used to James Moriarty. Adapting to his needs is a necessity, and yet, you find that you barely have to change at all.
You slip into his routine fairly quickly. Despite your initial panic, and the feeling that the whole place was a prison, you're able to push that behind you. It's easy to become the person he demands of you, solely because that person is yourself.
There's no way for you to discern what this whole plan is leading up to, but for now, you've managed to gather a few pieces of the puzzle. They don't quite form a whole, unbroken image yet, but you can understand what they're going to comprise.
There is something that Moriarty has that he's very, very proud of. He's going to unveil it to the world, and you've been assured that every single major criminal is going to scramble to get their hands on it. This thing, whatever it may be, has a great deal of power, apparently.
Initially, you'd been inclined to believe that it was some sort of weapon of mass destruction. Moriarty had told you that it had the potential to be one, and you believed him. He was a great many things, and not many of them good, but you didn't think he was a liar. Not to you, anyway.
However, the more he talked about it, the more you began to suspect that this prized weapon over the masses was actually a farce. It was absolutely the kind of thing he would delight in, tricking everybody into competing for his attention. He never explicitly said it, but you did have an inkling that his 'weapon' was more of a party trick that would lead to destruction but not actually cause any on its own.
The second aspect that you were sure of was that something was going to happen to some kids. The thought of it alone churned your stomach, and his words about innocence remained emblazoned on the back of your eyelids, haunting you whenever you close your eyes. Thankfully, you had persuaded Moriarty not to kill them, but rather just to hurt them. Which would probably be very traumatising, and it did make you wince just thinking about it, but at least the kids would be sent to therapy rather than the morgue.
And somehow, despite all of this - the kidnapping, the being forced into his plans - there was a part of you that remained thankful to him.
Moriarty was a monster, there was no denying that. He liked to hurt others for his entertainment, and he ran a criminal enterprise, consulting with the worst offenders on the planet.
But, he had saved you. By now, Sherlock Holmes would have found you in your hotel room and you would be awaiting trial.
This wasn't freedom, but it was more than you'd ever had.
"Cinderella," You hear Moriarty's lilting irish voice call out, down the hallway from your bedroom. It's still early, you think, and unless you'd overslept, then he was coming to fetch you rather early.
