"I'm starting to think Mary doesn't like me with Rosie," Amanda complained to me as we sat in the taxi. "I hog her a lot."
"Yeah, I don't get that about you," I told her. "I didn't think you were a baby person. Unless..." I looked to her, raising an eyebrow. "Are you and Taylor expecting and you just haven't told anyone?" During my brief break with Bayley, Amanda had found herself a man named Taylor. To this day, they were still together, marking this the longest relationship my best friend had ever been in.
Mandy gasped, gaping at me. "No, I'm not! You would've been the first to know, I swear!"
I laughed. "I'm kidding. Or am I?" Mandy hit me on the arm. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! All jokes aside, Mary does like you. I think she's just happy that she's got an extra person to help out with Rosie. Being a mother is rough business." I looked back out the window. "So instead of wedding talk, you wanted us to spend a day out?"
"We need a break from wedding fever," she insisted. "Besides, I want to explore what this place has to offer! Take pictures and be able to tease the girls about being here before them."
"Teasing, bragging, same difference," I joked.
When we got out of the taxi and paid the driver, Amanda led me straight into the store. We weren't going in with the expectation of buying anything, just browsing. To me, this seemed like a normal store. But to Amanda, you'd think she'd never been in one before. She had to touch everything her eyes found.
"Please tell me you know the conversion for this," she said as she showed me a price tag.
"Ah, right, the currency is different here," I noted. "I should've forewarned you about that. Yeah, our money doesn't work here."
"I could've guessed that, genius."
"Fortunately for you, I converted some of my cash to pounds. We'll find a station for you to do so too."
When we left the store empty-handed, Amanda and I hunted for a station to convert her money. It took some time to find one, and even more time to learn how to use one again. Nevertheless, Amanda felt much better having the current currency of London.
We found ourselves putting in a few miles on our legs. The weather was damp and dreary, and I could tell Amanda didn't like it, with the way her body language came off. I was used to it from my prior stays here.
We entered a different store, one that was fancier than the last. We branched off a bit, Mandy ogling at the purses while I glanced at shirts and dresses. This place was high-level fashion. How in the hell did we manage to find this place? There's no way we can afford anything in here.
I continued my browsing for another twenty minutes or so before I realized Amanda had disappeared. I began to search the store for her.
I came back empty.
I texted her phone: Did you skip out on me and I didn't see you?
The response was fairly quick: In dressing room.
Sighing, I found the back of the store, where the dressing room sign hung above.
"I can't believe you found something in this place," I said.
I got no quip back from Amanda. I frowned. I bent down to see her feet.
But I didn't see her anywhere.
"Mandy?" I asked quietly. I did the same for the rest of the stalls, checked for signs of feet. All came back empty. Okay, I don't like this. "Come on, you know I hate games like this. This isn't funny."
My squealing was muffled when a large gloved hand wrapped itself around my nose and mouth. I started struggling, screeching for help. My head was becoming light. No. No, no, no. I fell for a trap. I should've known, I should've called her damn phone!
When I managed to elbow my attacker in the ribs, they let go with a grunt. But as I was freed, the room was tilting all sorts of ways. I fell against a dressing room stall door, putting a hand to my forehead. I can fight this. Wait. With blurry vision, I fumbled for my phone. Clumsily, it bounced off my fingers, hitting the carpet flooring.
"Don't do anything," said a gruff voice. "It's just a matter of time. You do anything, the boss will know about it. He wants them both alive."
Boss? Who? Please don't tell me they're talking about who I think they're talking about. Through my blurry vision, a figure clad in black walked in, grabbing my phone up off the floor. I found myself sliding against the stall door, towards the floor.
"W-where's Amanda?" I croaked.
"Don't worry, she's going where you're going."
I remembered nothing after.
* * *
The first thing I realized when I woke was that I wasn't in a hospital. I wasn't back in Baker Street. For all I knew, I wasn't even in London anymore. There was nothing to judge my location on in this dark room.
I woke up on the floor. Using my hands, I blindly felt for walls. Once I found one, I used it to support myself, that chloroform was still messing with my head. They didn't even make it a fair fight. My hands found a light switch.
When I flicked it on, I noticed a very troubling thing. My hair was dyed back to the brown I had used before. And I hadn't been the one to do it.
Who touched my hair? How long was I out for? I tugged on the hair to make sure it was attached to my head and not some well-glued on wig. When I felt a pinch of pain, I knew it was my actual hair.
I guess that brought some relief, and by some I meant very little.
Trying to ignore the fact my hair was dyed without my permission, I took note of the room I was in. It was actually a bedroom, one that didn't look dusty or mice-ridden. To put it best, it was fancy. Livable. The bed was big enough to fit three, with a canopy over its head. Windows were on both sides of it, on the wall. Alarm grew when I realized they were barred. Crap.
I pulled on my now-brown hair. Who did this? What is this? I was beginning to think I knew what this was, I just didn't want to accept it yet. Maybe I'm dreaming. Yeah. Maybe that's it. But after pinching myself, I didn't wake up.
All of this was horribly real.
Amanda. She was nowhere in the room with me. I had to hope she was alive. If she dies because of me...
I looked warily at the windows. There's no chance of escaping through those. I padded on the floor, feeling small in this gigantic room. My eyes scoured the walls. There had to be cameras watching. This house wouldn't be a horror house without them.
"If you can hear me, I want to talk to someone!" I shouted to no one in particular. "I need to know my friend is alive!"
I got no answer, I didn't know why I was expecting to hear one out of thin air.
"I hope you realize who you just abducted, you jackasses!"
"Oh, I know," came a chilling, drawling tone.
I refused to turn around, I didn't want to confront him. I refused to believe this was really happening. The weight of the truth was crushing my lungs, I almost couldn't breathe.
"Why do you think I chose you, kitten?" The chuckle sent shivers through me, and not in the good way.
I tried to get a word out, but all I got was a squeak. I cleared my throat to gather my thoughts. "I was hoping those tortures messages were just the works of a copycat, or someone pulling the worst prank in the world," I stammered.
"Nobody can be a copycat to me, I'm one of a kind."
I swallowed. "That you are." I pinched myself harder. No, I could feel his presence now, like a snake about ready to swallow its prey whole. "Let me guess, you made this change." I touched my hair.
"Darling, you forget: I don't like getting my hands dirty, even with something so trivial. That's why I've got people to boss around." I felt a slight pressure on the inside of my wrist. "Mm, pulse racing. Either you're afraid or very pleased to see me."
"How about neither?"
"Come now, let me see those beautiful eyes of yours."
I moved with the slight squeeze on my wrist. The lighting made him look pale, almost corpse-like. Maybe he is dead. Maybe I'm losing my mind. It would be the only time I'd accept it with a warm embrace.
He smiled, cat-like. "Those beauties, I could swim in them all day."
I licked my lips. "Where's my friend?" I snarled.
"Who, the blonde? Don't worry, she's here too, just not with you. You don't think I'd be stupid enough to let you two put your heads together to try and think up an escape out of here, do you?"
"A girl can only wish. How do I know you haven't done something to her? You never said she was alive."
"Ah, there's your cleverness!" he trilled. "All right, all right, I'll prove to you that your friend is still breathing. But that requires you to follow me." He let go of my wrist and started backing towards the door, my ticket to freedom. "I don't have to force you, your curiosity will lead you out of here on its own."
As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I followed the man in the Westwood suit out of my room. The fleeting thought of running down the opposite end of the hall crossed my mind, but I knew that he knew I would think about it. I didn't try it.
Jim Moriarty took his slow time walking down the hall, whistling a tune I wasn't familiar with. Amanda was innocent in this, all I told her was details. She never first-hand experienced being part of Moriarty's game.
I glanced upwards, seeing small black cameras stationed. I knew it.
"Let's see, let's see," Moriarty muttered to himself. "No, no...ah, here it is!" He stopped, I mimicked him. "Just a few doors down from you. See, you can be hall buddies!" He threw me a smirk over his shoulder. "If it makes you feel any better, she's had a nice nap."
I clenched my fists as Moriarty pushed open the door. He stepped out of the way, gesturing me to go inside first. I knew what I wanted to see: Amanda alive and not harmed. I didn't see her when I was abducted. They must've gotten to her quick.
"It's not a trick, Rachel," he whispered. "I won't lie to you about her."
But you lied to me before, about who you really were, you psycho. Squaring my shoulders, I braced myself.
I walked in to find the best case scenario.
**No, this isn't in Rachel's head. This is legit. Jim Moriarty is back, folks, and unfortunately, dear Amanda has become part of it now.**