Partners In Crime: Watch Them Fall Apart [COMPLETED]

Chapter 7: Bite

"You couldn't kill me if you tried for a hundred years."

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Beth was sitting on her cot when the first interrogator came. She had woken up alone. James hadn't been beside her. At first, she had thought that maybe he had simply up and walked away. But that wasn't like him. Soon she had found signs that he had been forcibly dragged away. After that, she had simply waited for someone to come in.

And now was her chance.

"Mrs. Moriarty," he dragged in a chair, "Please sit down."

She nodded, moving to the chair and unceremoniously plopping herself down. He brought out a pair of handcuffs, binding her wrist to the chair.

"Ooh. Kinky." she smirked. The man rolled his eyes, sighing.

He stood in front of her. Standing straight, feet facing forward, looking down at her with a menacing glare. He was smirking deviously. As if he had waited his entire life for this moment.
"It's time for questioning." He hissed.
Beth looked around, before replying, "Just you? Don't you know who you are dealing with?"

"Oh, yes I do," he leaned in closer, a glint in his eye, "I am dealing with a whiny little kleptomaniac. It is you against me. And I assure you, it is I who will be winning."

"You're going to regret calling me those things, sweetheart."

"I doubt it. Now, let's get started." He hissed. Straightening up again, he asked, "How did you meet Mr. Moriarty?"

She smiled, making little noises and raising her free arm into the air, mimicking a child in school, "Ooh! Ooh! I know this one! Can I answer?!" she laughed, "I intrigued him. He invited me for dinner."

The man nodded, writing something down onto a notebook, " And how old were you when you met? How old was he?"

"I was 24. He was 27."

"When did you get married?"

"About a year after we met."

He nodded again, pacing around her. Beth was formulating a plan in her mind. She could maybe break the chair if she tried hard enough. Get the handcuffs off of the chair. Knock the man to the ground with an uppercut, or maybe she could just sweep her leg under his feet and force him down. She'd run throughout the facility, maybe find an air duct to climb into and make her escape. But of course, she'd have to find James. Find Sebastian. They wouldn't be small enough to fit through the air ducts. Sure, they were both thin and fit. But they had bigger shoulders. It would be near impossible to make them fit. So that plan was bust. Maybe she could run out of the door to her cell, and get Moran and James out. They could help her fight until they found an exit. But that wasn't very likely that they would make it all out of there. There would probably be far too many guards for all of them to live through this. No. She'd have to bide her time.

"How'd you meet Sebastian Moran?"
"I met him when I moved into one of my first flats." 

She answered question after question.

"What were you doing prior to when you came here?"

Beth gave her usual smirk, "Your mother."

He grimaced, raising his hand. Beth didn't even flinch as he struck her. Hard. She simply continued smiling. He pointed at her, screaming, "You are in no position to say that, you bloody tosser!"

She looked at his pointed finger, about three inches away from her face. Before he could realize his mistake, she lunged forward, biting down until she hit bone. The tangy taste of blood hit her tongue, and she absolutely loved the taste. The man screamed, yanking his finger out of her mouth, causing more damage. Blood spattered onto the floor, and he continued screaming, wrapping his finger in his shirt.

"YOU PSYCHO B****!!" he cried out, hitting her again, harder.

He opened the door, sprinting out, leaving Beth with her face and shirt soaked in his blood.

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James heard the sound of a slap originating in the room beside his. Beth's room. He jumped off of the cot to his feet, and rushed over to the wall. He pressed his ear against it, trying to hear better. He heard loud screaming, Beth gasping for air, her spitting out some blood and most likely flesh. More cries for help. The man interrogating her rushing out of her room after calling her a particularly bad name. Screams. Footsteps heading towards James' cell door. His door swung open, and a man stood there. He was panting hard, each breath labored. He looked furious, his face and ears red, both fists clenched. Blood was dripping down his hand to the floor. He uncurled the fist of his bleeding hand, and showed James, who stood there, thinking of Beth.

"Your wife f***** bit me!" he cried. Blood dripped onto James' lap.

"That's my girl," he thought, and replied, "Yeah, she does that."

The man furiously grabbed the back of James' shirt, dragging him out of his cell, and throwing him into Beth's cell. "You two better get your psycho minds together!"He slammed the door shut again, and left.

Moriarty looked up at Beth. She was handcuffed to a chair, the man's blood dripping down her chin. He got up wordlessly, taking off his shirt to wipe away the blood. He looked at her ruined shirt, and gave his to her. She smiled, and they both looked down at the handcuffs.

"Is your wrist alright?" he asked.

She shook her head, "My wrist is rubbed raw. There's going to be marks for days."

He frowned, kissing what little of her wrist was available. They needed to get out of here. No matter what. They looked at each other. Kissed. They were going to escape this. They were going to make it. They were going to survive this.

James helped her break the wooden chair, and did his best to make sure that little more harm came to her wrist. She now only had the handcuffs on her. She wasn't bound to anything.

They both smiled.

They were going to get out of here together. Even if it killed them.