Jim Moriarty: I. Own. You. [COMPLETED]

Chapter Twenty: Exchange

True to his word, Moriarty returned exactly an hour later with the same smirk still present on his face. He pointed at Sherlock and waited as Moran moved towards the Consulting Detective, pulling up roughly. Sherlock was shoved next to Moriarty, wobbling as Moran held him up.

He must have been drugged pretty badly as he appeared to still be swaying under Moran's tight grip on his shoulder. John glanced at you with a questioning look but you shrugged. You were as clueless as him.
"I hope you've enjoyed each other's company as this will be the last time all of you are together in the same room." You raised an eyebrow, silently telling John not to make any sudden movements or lunge out. You might both be tied up but you wouldn't put it passed him to try.

"Sherl here will be the chooser. Only two of you will be going home. Sherlock gets to decide who comes with me." John clenched his teeth but seeing your glare he decided against doing anything. Instead he sat back and seethed, his hands shaking with rage.
"Me." Came the answer that Sherlock's slurred voice provided. "I'll go with you, so long as you let John and Y/N go."

Moriarty tutted sadly, pouted a little and turned to Moran a certain gleam in his eye.
"Unfortunately it's not that simple. You must choose from either John or Y/N. If you refuse both of them shall die." Sherlock's eyes blazed with fury but Moriarty merely tapped his watch.
"Tick tick Sherlock, tick tock."

Sherlock glanced between us before croaking out a word.
"Y/N, take Y/N." You smiled brightly at Sherlock, nodding your head to tell him he had done the right thing. Moran moved forwards to untie John who rushed to you, tears threatening to spill. He whipped his head around to face Moriarty.

"Please, let me go with you instead. Sherlock doesn't know what he's saying." He pleaded as one last attempt to change the Consulting Criminal's mind. Sherlock chuckled dryly.
"I know exactly what I'm saying and I've made my choice." Moriarty smirked and John and opened the door.
"Precisely, now you've heard it from the horse's mouth. See you later boys."

Moran approached them from behind and hit them both firmly over the head with the butt of his gun. They were out like a light. Moriarty then removed the ropes from the chair that tied you to it but kept the ones that were around your wrists.
"Let's go Seb, they could wake up at any minute." Moran nodded and grabbed you roughly by the arm, dragging you past your unconscious friends and out into a bigger, more desolate building.

You were led though hallways and rooms until you reached a door at the end of what appeared to be a kitchen. Cobwebs lined the shelves where spices and cooking ingredients might once have been. An oven stood alone in the corner, grime covering it like a blanket. There might one have been a fridge or freezer but it was in smashed bits on the floor, shards of plastic littering the ground.

Moran struggled with the lock on the door whilst you stared around you at this crypt of a room. Moriarty shoved you out through the now open door and towards a car that looked much too clean and posh for the building that surrounded it. Moran climbed in the driver's seat whilst Moriarty climbed in next to you, twirling the gun Moran had used on Sherlock and John earlier in his hands.

The engine started up with a soft purr and glided away from the parking lot and out onto the main road. This was actually happening. You really were being taken. And for some reason, you didn't seem to care.

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The car came to a stop after two hours of driving. With slowly drooping eyes, you allowed Moriarty to open the car door and push you outside. It was not unlike when he had done pretty much the same thing only a week ago. Except this time you weren't able to go home to Baker Street.

You were poked and prodded up a huge drive towards a house that loomed above you, a menacing shape against the starless night. The door swung open and you entered, listening to the sound of your breathing echoing around the house.
"Take her upstairs Seb, I'll join you in a second." Moran nodded as Moriarty disappeared from sight into one of the many rooms that were connected to the foyer you were stood in.

Moran led you up the stairs but he didn't handle you as roughly as before. After a minute or two of walking down hallways, he stopped outside one the doors and gestured for you to go inside. The interior seemed surprisingly comfortable. A bed took centre stage with curtains draped around the sides of it, fairy lights strung along the top of the headboard. A simple but elegant desk was positioned in the corner of the room, a chair already placed by it.

But what caught your eye the most were the bookshelves. One wall was completely lined with them, titles and authors that you'd never heard of before, all bundled together in one room. As much as you hated to acknowledge it, you'd already fallen in love with the place.

The door shut behind you with a soft click as Moran closed it and disappeared down the hall. You wandered absentmindedly across the the bookshelves and traced the spines of the book so your finger, murmuring the titles out loud over and over again. Many of your favourite authors were here along with many of your favourite books. You realised with a small smile that the situation you were in mirrored that of the one from your favourite childhood story: Beauty and The Beast.

You had indeed been captured by the Beast in order to save someone you loved, and that the prison your captor had put you in was truly a beautiful place. You were wrenched from your musings quite abruptly but the sound of your door opening once more and the Beast himself stepping inside. Silently cursing yourself for already referring to the room as yours, you raised one eyebrow.

"I imagine you have questions." Moriarty began as he glanced around the room, a look of triumph plastered on his face
"But they'll have to wait. It's late and I for one don't enjoy dealing with people who've had little sleep. I'll explain rules and whatnot in the morning. Goodnight Miss Y/L/N."

You stare at the man who had once been your best friend and sigh, looking away from him.
"Goodnight Mr Moriarty."

A/N hope that was okay and thank you for nearly 1K reads. What with all the indecision about this book and whether or not I'd continue it I'm surprised people are still reading. No matter, I'm glad that you are and hope you're all enjoying it. Baiiii-L