Moriarty's Musician

Chapter 14: The Stand, Part 1

Where was she? Was she... dead?

Blackness enveloped Annabelle and she struggled to move, but the force that kept her pinned in place was much stronger, painfully so. Her head throbbed like it was being squeezed in a grip. And it was all she could do not to be consumed by the soul-saturating darkness. Was she drowning? She started gasping for air as her chest constricted.

"It's not over."

Annabelle's gaze flew to the sound, but she couldn't see anyone. It was too dark. "Who's there?" she managed with what little air she had left.

"You're not dead yet. Will you fight it, Annabelle, or will you let it win?"

"Who are you?"

"I want you to win."

"But I don't know what to do."

"Fight."

"I'm scared. I can't... I can't breathe."

"You can fight it. And you will. You're not a weakling —you're a Watson. You're strong. Fight the darkness, Annabelle."

"But I don't know how to fight it. Please help me. Help me find you."

It was at that moment that she heard the sound, the music. She knew those familiar notes. It was the same symphony she had listened to countless times from her father's old record player, Bach's Violin Concerto.

Annabelle sighed as the music floated over her. She relaxed her struggle while the notes trickled across her mind, bringing with it a peace that made her feel lighter than air. She wasn't suffocating anymore. In fact, she felt like she could breathe again, move again. She stretched her shoulder and imagined the soothing weight of the violin resting there. Oh, to be able to play.

"He needs you, dear."

Annabelle turned to see the Woman in White, a soft glow of light surrounding her in the darkness. The woman smiled softly, her Irish accent touching her words. "He's not gone, but time's runnin' out for him."

Annabelle swallowed and glanced down at the woman's hand that was now extended to her. She hesitated and took a step away from the woman as she bit her lip. But the question that racked her mind couldn't be contained any longer.

"Am I going crazy like my mother?"

"No, you're not crazy. You have a gift that makes you feel things intensely." The Woman in White smiled. "You're unique and so very special, Annabelle."

"They want to kill me."

"Then show them they can't."

Annabelle's mouth tightened as she stared into dark brown eyes. How could she stop them from coming after her? She was standing in their way. They wanted her father's company.

But the Woman in White grasped her hands. "Stand, Annabelle... and fight."

Annabelle's breath hitched. In the darkness of her mind, she saw nuances of Moriarty's face shaped into the woman's features. "He loves you so much," Annabelle whispered to her.

The Woman in White smiled. "You and I have a lot in common then."

Annabelle's eyes widened as the woman's softly spoken words made a warmth spread through her. He loves me.

"I'm going to stand," Annabelle said, lifting her chin a little higher. "Thank you."

The Woman in White nodded and let go of her hands. But before she could ask the woman her many questions, a rising melody made Annabelle look off into the darkness.