Torture (x Jim Moriarty x)

Chapter Thirty- Break In

It was awful, waiting for Jim to come back. There were no sounds or signs of any form of confrontation but, then again, maybe this killer was stealthy.

Eventually, I couldn't bear to just leave him wandering around whilst looking for a man with a gun in his hands. So, I decided to look as well.

I felt as if I was in a film or some kind of game. Everything was silent and I was nervous to turn the corner in case I would be greeted with a murderer pointing a gun right between my two eyes.

When I did turn the corner, nothing and nobody was there. I should've felt relief but it just scared me more because that meant Jim might very well be in danger instead of me.

I debated whether or not to call out for Jim but I eventually decided that that would be highly stupid. Just stay silent.

Another frightening thought entered my mind. I was unarmed. Jim had taken the gun we were using but I knew that he had more. I just didn't know where. Something else, other than a gun, would have to be used.

I quietly made my way to the kitchen and grabbed a heavy knife. It had droplets of blood of red on it. Somehow, I didn't think this was previously used for food. What did I honestly expect? Blood on a knife failed to surprise me in a house like this. It had 'psychopath' written all over it....and that 'psychopath' was my boyfriend. Oh, shit, what was I doing?! Had I really not even thought about the fact that I'm going out with a murdering criminal? But he was just so sweet sometimes and protective and...stop it, there's someone trying to kill me right now and I'm thinking about the positives of my boyfriend. Idiot.

I held the knife in one of my hands and resumed making my way around the house. Suddenly, I heard something fall over upstairs, or someone.

My bodily instincts took over and forced me to dart up the stairs. The hallway was empty. Was that a good or bad thing?

I slowly paced to the other side of the room, looking cautiously over my shoulder just in case. All of a sudden, I felt a body collide with mine and I gasped in shock until a hand cupped tightly around my mouth. I looked up and thank God it was Jim and nobody else. He gave me a warning glare that told me to keep my mouth shut as he removed his hand.

He grabbed my hand and held it tighter than ever, as if he never wanted to let it go, and he pulled me into the bedroom and shut the door. He held my shoulders firmly.

"Don't you think this is a bad time?" I whispered, staring at him as if he was mad.

He rolled his eyes at my cluelessness and moved over to the cupboard. As he opened the doors, I saw silver glints of shiny knives and other weapons that I'd never even seen before. I even think I saw a machine that ripped your mouth open, a bit like the Reverse Bear Trap from Saw. All these unfamiliar forms of torture weapons sent an unpleasant shiver down my spine.

Without even having to look for it, Jim grabbed a slightly bigger knife than the one I already had.

"With all of...this", I gestured to the cupboard with my hands, not really sure what to call it, "I thought you would've selected something more creative".

"I'm saving that for someone else", Jim raised his eyebrows secretively, "Now will you be quiet?"

I gave him an apologetic look before replacing the knife in my hands with his discarded gun.

"Right", Jim nodded approvingly at me, "Now scream".

"What?" I asked with confusion.

"Scream for me", Jim repeated, this time more intensely.

"Why?" I questioned.

Jim walked up to me and leant his arm on the wall beside me, staring deeply into my eyes.

"Do you want me to make you scream?" He winked seductively, "Or are you going to do as I say?"

He was suddenly being so strange, but I did as I was told anyway. With all the power in my throat, I screamed as loud as I could. Jim smirked at me.

"We'll also use that later tonight", Jim stroked my arm before quickly walking next to the closed door and waiting there.

Seconds later, the door slammed open and in walked in a young man with short brown hair and glassy blue eyes. He acknowledged me standing there and smiled proudly at himself for he thought he was about to murder the one who has been the target for months by now. What did he want, a fucking medal?

He was about to walk over to me until he fell over Jim's leg which was purposely trying to trip him up. Jim leant down next to him and grabbed his hair, craning his neck up from the floor.

"Tell me who sent you here", Jim hissed in his ear.

The man groaned but didn't reply.

Jim brought the knife and rested it against the man's neck.

"Tell me who sent you here or I'll slit your fucking throat", Jim harshly snapped and then added, "Slowly".

The man inhaled deeply with panic before finally giving in.

"Aaron Samuels", he revealed.

"That's what I thought", Jim nodded, "Now here's for the hard part".

Jim quickly pulled the knife away from his throat, accidentally leaving a small scratch which caused blood to trickle down onto the floor. It probably wasn't an accident.

"Now", Jim continued, "Tell me where this Aaron Samuels lives".

"No", the man groaned.

"Last chance", Jim said.

Again, he didn't reply. Jim pressed the point of the knife hard against his back and slowly lowered it into his skin. He screamed out in pain.

"Where does he live?" Jim repeated.

But he was already gone. He probably was losing too much blood. The carpet on the floor looked like a ketchup van had fallen over.

"I always get too carried away when trying for information", Jim smirked up at me with a glint of excitement in his wild eyes.