The Undefined Criminal - A Sherlock Fanfic

Inner Demons

       Hours went by, then days. My muscles haven't moved in three days, and there's no sign that they will. My wrists have a bloodied line across them, from the zip-ties holding them down, and the constant struggle against them. My clothes are stiff from the build up of sweat and stained with dried blood. They gave me a plain outfit of light grey leggings and a white tank-top so I wasn't in that blasted dress for all this time. What if I just refuse to breathe? Could I do that? Just give up? It's not like I've got anywhere to go. Maybe giving up isn't so bad. I let out a long, exhausted sigh. What other options do I have?

       The metal door creaked open. An auburn-haired head slowly poked around it. I could recognize that head anywhere, not like I wanted to. Claire.

       Over the course of three days, she has started remember the friendship we had. Because of the hell I've been going through, I've tried to force myself to forget. She slowly approached me, like how you would approach a wild horse. "I brought you a sandwich," she hesitated. "Do you want me to... feed it to you or- Oh my god your wrists!"

       I remain silent. My eyes lock on her face, emitting a message of disappointment. "Umm. Okay. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to cut you loose, just for a little while. To stretch your legs out, and well, eat your sandwich like a normal person," she forces a little chuckle.

       She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a small pocket knife. My breath quickens on instinct. She slowly guides the knife to my wrists, and slices the zip-ties cutting into my skin. I feel my wrists and ankles take a sudden breath of freedom, but I remain motionless with my fixed on Claire's. Her gaze scatter with guilt. She inches back to a table topped with knifes and god knows what else and leans her arms on the edge, her back facing me. "I didn't ask for all this to happen, none of it," she mumbles. "I just wanted a chance to be like you. Charles and Melissa, they offered me a chance to change order. To make society where anyone can be what they want to be. When your an orphan, who was given no shot at a good life, that sounded like heaven, okay? I was stupid and didn't know what I getting myself into. Everything was changing so fast, I didn't realize-"

       I leap from my chair and throw Claire to the wall. My right arm grabs her left and pins it above her head while my left arm secures itself over her neck. "You didn't realize the pain you were causing?" I struggle to hiss. I've lived through these three days on five sips of water, that does a number on your vocal chords, and your bodily function. My stance holds strong, even when I'm standing on a broken ankle given to me yesterday by a very angry Stephen with a sledge hammer. Let's just say I didn't want to give Moriarty any information about Sherlock, and Stephen would much rather hear me scream in pain than remain silent. 

       Claire's eyes paint a picture of shock, but a sense of understanding. "No, I didn't," she replied. 

       "I'm done explaining what you've caused. The things your 'tragic absence' made me do. I blamed everyone, okay? Anyone who spoke against you woke up in a hospital the next day. It was like that even before you left,"

       "Really? You... looked out for me like that?-"

       "Oh no, Claire. This is not a good sight, my dear,"

       My eyes go blank. I paint a mental picture of what's behind me. The doorway on the far side of the room, Moriarty standing directly in the middle with the biggest smile on his face. "I mean, well done to Amy taking a chance, but you, Claire? It's rude to set up a friend, even one that thought you were dead and you later betrayed"

      The door! It was open the whole time. They could hear the struggle. Claire. She meant for this to happen. "You set me up," my blood began to boil.

       "What? No, Amy. I didn't mean to-" I shot my arm against her neck down to the table and returned with a bloodstained knife pointed directly at her vocal chords. "Amy, please. Your not thinking straight! Stop!"

       "What? You didn't ask for any of this?" My brain wasn't in control anymore, all my anger suddenly took control of my muscles. "I can't do this anymore, Claire. I can't keep fighting for something against me,"

       "Do it, Amy," Moriarty's voice chuckled. I feel his presence creep closer. "Show her what you are really capable of. Show her what you've become,"

       I kept my eyes fixed on Claire's. Tears began to stream from them. I slid the edge of the knife closer to her neck. All the power in my hands. Her fate is my choice. My eyes began to twitch. Just one more death-

       My mind fell back into control. I dropped the knife to floor. Claire gasped at her extended life. My gaze dropped to the floor. "Ah, well. You see, that's where the mighty Amy is weak. She doesn't forget," Moriarty sighed. I slowly loosened my grip and she slid away from me. Her footsteps quietly walk over to the door. I turn my head to the side just enough to see her look at moriarty, then me, and finally disappeared through the door. He nodded to me, and turned after her. "You broke her, Moriarty," I called after him.

        He stopped. In fact he froze. He finally turned, his face dark and serious. "You keep telling yourself that,". 

       Before he closed the door, he switched off the light in the room, trapping me in a pitch black prison. "Say hello to your demons for me!" he called as he shut and locked the door. 

       I limped backward until my back hit a wall. My ankle gave out and I slid to the floor. My arms hug my knees as I felt the darkness entering my brain. I suddenly let out a long, angry shriek. Oh, Claire. I'm sorry. Moriarty's right.

       The darkness of the room seemed to live with me for weeks. When I finally saw a sliver of light from the opening door, I realized it's only been about twelve hours. Whoever opened the door flipped on the light, and I temporarily went blind from the artificial sun I've grown accustomed to. My eyes refused to focus, even when I felt increased pressure on my neck. I shot my arms on my attackers in defense. My eyes finally focused on who was above me. A deranged, almost rabid face of Stephen kneeled above me. "You refuse to talk to us, but when it's just you and the boss, you'll never shut up, huh?" 

      I grunted as I struggled to lift his arms off of me. "Why are you still fighting, Amy? No one's gonna come for you. Honestly, no one will even miss you," His laugh was animalistic.

      "Nn... No-" I gasped.

      "Stop fighting, Amy. Stop fighting,"

      I got a good grip on his arms. I almost shrieked as I lifted him off me. I sat back up with a loud gasp, to see that Stephen, and the whole room vanished into black. I blinked though I didn't see any difference between my eyes closed or open. I sighed, and lifted myself off the floor. With one hand sliding on the wall, I guided myself around the room until I felt the edge of the table hit may waist. I slide my hand across the table and grab onto what I think is a knife. My arm lifts it to my neck, I can feel my wrist trembling. Stop fighting. The fake words Stephen never truly said repeated through my brain. Stop fighting...

      Of all the people to save, god, or whatever higher power there is, decided to speak to someone, it had to be me. A quiet sound of an alarm seemed to come from the door, wherever that was.