(24) I'm your worst nightmare

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'I will burn you...' 

All your muse could hear were whispers - a voice too familiar to them, Moriarty's. His voice was very soft and had to be paid very close attention to be heard. But that wasn't a brilliant idea, because his words held the most chilling, mortifying description of the torture he was promising them.

 But that wasn't a brilliant idea, because his words held the most chilling, mortifying description of the torture he was promising them

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 Whispers suddenly grew into terrifyingly loud screams.

 The murderous threats being thrown around, some shockingly announcing their deepest, darkest fears. Some of them were just very loud, harsh insults. Insults your muse specifically hated the most. 

It was dark, they couldn't see anything

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It was dark, they couldn't see anything. 

But God, did they wish they didn't see anything because his visage could make anybody jump out of their skin and hide their bones so they wouldn't get hurt. He'd normally have that effect on most people, but this time it was much more different. Horrible, absolutely not a single strand of humanity. 

He gave your muse the most deadpan, villainous smile before he turned around to reveal the back of his head all bloody and... not there? 

When he faced your muse again, the bored expression slowly morphed into a wide, large, generous grim

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When he faced your muse again, the bored expression slowly morphed into a wide, large, generous grim. It was slow, but the smile kept growing until it stretched into the most daunting mien. He threw his lavish blazer on the floor, rolled up his sleeves quickly. It seemed as if the madman was excited about his playdate. 

He reached down to pick up an enormous chainsaw... and you knew very well that the material used in the blade could very much kill you. He started it and smiled lovingly at the whirring of the sharp teeth across the chainsaw before he plugged in his earphones. 

He took a nice, long breath of air, listening to the music that your muse couldn't hear, and started dancing in a merry, exuberant swing toward your muse. He was so close.. 

Just a few inches from your head... 


And thank heavens, your muse jolted awake.  


Jim was asleep very peacefully beside your muse. His blanket was pulled all the way over his head, with his back facing them. He slept like a bloody log. Fast asleep, unaware of your situation, sometimes snoring to show that he was alive. 


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