𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥 | 𝘖𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 3 ✔︎

Chapter XI - It's Your Turn

Clara's POV

The room I wake up in is familiar.

A bare, cement room with one security camera in the corner and no visible exit. It's the room I saw on the TV back at the Diner the first time it flickered to life of its own accord. My head is hazy, most likely from some sort of drug I was given, but I look down and none of me is tied up. All my limbs are intact and fully moveable. No restraints whatsoever. That surprises me.

"You're finally awake!" the feminine voice says. I know that voice. Out of a dark corner steps Missy.

"Why am I here? What do you want, Missy?" I ask, standing up from my sitting position. I try to act like I'm not afraid, but my voice shakes. 

"I'm so glad you asked!" she answers. Then, her voice seems to drop an octave. "I want to make Sherlock pay."

I take a step away from her cautiously. "Sherlock? How do you know him?" I ask.

"Are you ready for the story? This is the story of Sir Boast-a-lot. Sir Boast-a-lot was the bravest and cleverest knight at the Round Table. But soon the other knights began to grow tired of his stories about how brave he was and how many dragons he'd slain. And soon they began to wonder, Are Sir Boast-a-lot's stories even true? Oh no..." Sherlock... I think. Missy grins and continues. "So one of the knights went to King Arthur and said, 'I don't believe Sir Boast-a-lot's stories. He's just a big old liar who makes things up to make himself look good.' And then, even the king began to wonder. But that wasn't the end of Sir Boast-a-lot's problem. No. That wasn't the Final Problem. The End."

It's quiet for a moment.

"That story was about Sherlock, wasn't it?" I ask hesitantly. "Were you... Moriarty?"

"I was, Clara. I was the king," she responds. "And honey, you should see me in a crown."

My eyes furrow. Missy is Moriarty?! "And what have I got to do with all this?"

Missy's says that she's enjoying every bit of this. "I once promised to burn the heart out of Sherlock, and now, it seems, Clara dear, that you are his heart!"

My hands get clammy and my eyes dart around for a way out, trying to keep calm. My mind screams, She's going to burn me?! 

"It's a shame," she continues, "I really liked you. I wish it didn't have to be you. The Impossible Girl. You were so clever,"

"Then you don't have to do this!" I cut her off, desperate. "You really don't. Please..."

"Oh, but darling, he just wouldn't stop prying. And everyone knows that the best way to hurt Sherlock is to hurt those he loves."

I want to move--to run--but it seems as if my feet are glued in place. I begin to panic--my freeze instinct must have kicked in. Why here? Why now?

Missy pulls out a gun from her overcoat and aims it at me. She sighs, fiddling with the trigger. "Guns like these never really were my style. But they get the job done." She smiles. "Say something nice."

I close my eyes and a tear slips out, bracing myself for the tear of the bullet through my flesh.

I hear a click.

"Oops!" I hear Missy exclaim. My eyes fearfully open to see her laugh. "I forgot to load it! Silly me," she pulls out the magazine and loads it into the gun, then points it back at me. I brace myself again, but she hesitates.

"This is no fun," she says.

"You've got that right," I mumble. She rolls her eyes at me. Then her eyes light up like she got an idea.

"You know what?" she says. "I've got a better idea." she comes toward me and takes my hand, then puts the gun into it. Leaning close, she whispers, "It's your turn."

As she steps away, I ask,"My turn for what?"

"To do what Sherlock did." she grins manically. "Kill yourself."

I stop, in shock. "And what if I don't?" I ask, voice shaking again.

"Then all of your friends will die. Right now, as we speak, I've got a gun pointed on all of them."

 I close my eyes and imagine all those I love. Sherlock, Ash, Mrs H, Bill, Jack, John. Right now, a gun pointed at all of them. And I have no doubt that Missy wouldn't hesitate to fire. "What if I shoot you?"

"Oh, sweetheart, then your friends would die. And besides--I'm a timelady. A bullet hole is nothing."

I let out a shaky breath. She was right. I turned the gun over in my hands. It was a semi-automatic handgun--I knew how to fire it. Nervously, I pulled back the hammer on the gun. Tears sprung to my eyes and I sniffles to keep them from falling. I pressed that barrel to my head and felt the cold, hard metal dig into my scalp. I drew in a sobbing breath and fiddled with the trigger. My eyes squeezed shut.

A woosh of air surrounded me and a familiar noise resonated around the room. My surroundings dissolved and were replaced with the interior of another dimension. 

~~~~~

Did anyone else start crying during Clara's appearance in the Christmas special?

WC: 853

6.1.18