𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐚 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 || 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ Vⵊ

'*•.¸♡ Truth ♡¸.•*'
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

You awakened to a bright light grinning at you. You tried to get a better view of your surroundings, but something stopped you. All of your limbs were chained to the upright bed you laid on.

"What the f–"

"Such a filthy mouth~"

Him, that voice was the reason you were here. The events from before you had blacked out came rushing to your mind. You began breathing shallowly, the seriousness of your current situation setting in.

A loud bang drew you from your thoughts as the metal exit door slammed behind the Irish bastard.

You shifted the best you could to watch the man stalk towards you. "What is this?" Your voice was low and raspy, your question barely audible.

Moriarty grinned before he walked to the corner of the dark room. "And I thought you liked games."

He couldn't be serious—wait, of course he could. He's a bloody psychopath. "Aren't games supposed to be enjoyable?" you countered, raising your voice as best you could.

A deep chuckle rang throughout the small room. Moriarty soon emerged from the shadows, holding something.

"Oh my dear, if only you could see your face..." He stopped mere centimetres from you. "You are a gorgeous woman, Ms. Holmes," he cooed while he dragged a cold, metal object across your cheek. "But we can't have that." His words were no louder than a whisper as he smirked.

"You're sick!" you shouted through the rawness of your throat, a group of coughs leaving you immediately after.

His jaw clenched, spinning back to you with an icy stare. "And you're well?" He stepped back to you, his hand pushing your forehead down. "We both know you were locked away for a reason, my dear."

You gritted your teeth. "You know nothing!" you spat, glaring at the man who kept you restrained.

Moriarty turned away, sighing dramatically. "Then you'll have to tell me..." His aura was darker as you stalked to you, flashing the silver blade in his grasp.

Your eyes widened, realising what was to come. You couldn't tell him, you shouldn't—it would tarnish the Holmes name.

"You're thinking too loud again~" He twirled the knife between his fingers. "I could change that."

"You're bluffing!"

"Am I?" he challenged, dragging the blade along the skin of your thigh, a pained gasp escaping your lips.

Your chest was heaving as you sucked air through your nose to ignore the pain. "I won't tell you anything!"

"Okay." His voice was emotionless, his eyes full of malice. He quickly swiped the blade across your cheek, crimson painting your face.

A shriek echoed in the dim room, your cheek stinging. Your breathing became heavier as you eyed the man before you.

"Tsk tsk, now I've ruined that pretty face," he cooed, rubbing the back of his hand down your skin. His eyes flipped to yours, challenging you to play his game. You sat silently, gritting your teeth to push through the pain. "So here's what we can do, my love~" Moriarty began circling you, your heartbeat increasing with each step. "You can choose to stay with me and I will shower you in whatever you desire, or we can keep playing this little game where you end up with more stripes than a tiger." He breathed the second half through gritted teeth pushing the tip of the blade into his finger, before standing straight with a menacing grin. "The choice is yours."

You thought for a second, knowing that staying with him would likely be more dangerous than the small knife in his hand. "How many plasters you got?" you smirked as his eye twitched. His smile quickly flatlining. He bit his lip, shaking his head in utter disappointment. He was nothing but empty threats. The look on his face proved it. He cared for you, he didn't want to harm you. It was only as a pressuring tactic. The man was indeed bluffing. "You won't hurt me though, will you?" you challenged, stone-faced as you stared at the man.

He grinned, dropping the knife as it clanged on the ground. "There it is~"

Your eyebrows furrowed before realising what he was referring to.

"See, when you hear the rumours of a human lie detector, one naturally is intrigued and my darling, you certainly fit the mould."

"I have absolutely no clue about what you're referring to."

He leaned in beside my ear, "I may not be as skilled as you, but that is utter BULLSHIT!" 

You face showed no emotions, your features frozen. "What makes you think I'll help you?"

A dark chuckle rose from his throat as he walked towards the exit. "You'll find I can be rather...persuasive." He pushed open the metal door, waving from behind as he left the room. "Ciao!"

The heavy door slammed behind him and you were once again left in silence, your thoughts the only sound. You knew he was smart, you knew he would use you then discard you, but he couldn't make you do anything. You needed to find a way out.

The exit Moriarty had used was the only way out of the concrete cell. After that, you would be lost. But if you did escape, you would be locked away by Mycroft's orders...maybe it would be better to stay here? 

Sure Moriarty was a maniacal psychopath, but he did seem to care for you. He also wasn't very hard on the eyes—

He's a serial killer! An evil man who kills for fun. You couldn't possibly—

But his mocha eyes were so captivating, his accent was silky as it coated his words, his smile...

He's your brothers' enemy! You couldn't possibly be debating staying with him!

He'd let you be free, give you anything you desired, burn the world for you if you'd ask.

You were lost in your thoughts, unaware of the Irish man watching you from afar. "So, what'll be, my darling?" His voiced snapped you out of whatever trance you had been stuck in. "Stay here and live as a queen, my queen or return back to your kennel with your brother and his other pet?" He slowly stepped from the shadows, a knowing smirk on his lips.

"Why are you asking if you know that answer?"

He shrugged, playfully frowning. "More fun that way." He headed to you, unchaining each of your limbs, allowing you to stretch for this first time in an eternity.

"Thanks," you mumbled, rubbing your wrists.

"Let's get you changed, hmm? Queen's can't wear rags." He grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the door. "Welcome to your new home, my dear." 

You ascended a set of concrete stairs that led to the most beautiful office you'd ever seen. Floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with thousands of old books. Jim smiled as he watched you stare in awe. 

"Come, darling. You can explore later."

You nodded as he dragged you from his office into a magnificent foyer. Marble floors and pillars with gold accents, artifacts decorating the walls—it was gorgeous. Jim pulled you towards the luxurious staircase that led to his bedroom. You raced up the stairs as he led you into a massive closet filled with clothes, that were your size?

"Your wardrobe." He smiled before grabbing a box from the corner of the room. "For you."

You eyed him suspiciously but saw no harmful intent in his eyes. You peeled open the book and your eyes widened in shock. "You-?"

"I know what that excuse of a brother did. You don't deserve that."

A small tear left your eyes as you stared at the boots in your hands. "Thank you," you whispered, smiling up at the man before you.

"You're welcome, my dear. Welcome to your new life!"

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