Author's note: Hey guys! So I know I tried writing this quite a long time ago, but I read over it again and I really didn't like it. I wasn't sure what I was planning for it, but now that I'm a bit more sure, I've decided to try again. This is the sequel to The Devil's Daughter, and this is the prologue. I hope you enjoy! Please leave a review to tell me what you think, if it's better than the last one? Thanks lovelies xx
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock, I'm just borrowing the characters for this story :)
Revenge. -SM
Did you forget about me? -SM
What a foolish mistake. -SM
Scared yet? -SM
Your father would not be pleased. -SM
Be prepared. -SM
Think they'll look after you? Please. -SM
Remember who you're up against. -SM
You're useless. -SM
Worthless. -SM
Weak. -SM
I'm coming to get you. -SM
You can't escape. -SM
Nobody wants you. -SM
I don't know why your father bothered keeping you in the first place. -SM
He wanted you dead. -SM
He's going to get his wish. -SM
I promised him. -SM
A good man always keeps his word. -SM
Revenge. -SM
The texts came floating in like rain clouds on a sunny day. They only escalated, like thunder and lightning. He was taunting her, shutting down her mind. Putting ideas into her head. Trying to kill her slowly. She hated to admit it was almost working. She didn't want it to. She tried to ignore them, delete them before she read them, but she just couldn't. The rain cloud would only carry on raining down persistent droplets onto her head. She needed to read them eventually, but once she did, she always regretted it. One word could haunt her for the rest of the day, the week, the month, or until she lay in her bedroom, tears falling from her eyes as if she couldn't get them out fast enough. They fell onto the white bed sheets, making dark wet patches in strange places. Jayne would always flip the duvet over, to hide the patch. She couldn't bring herself to tell her mother. She knew she was in danger, she knew he was coming. But telling somebody felt like making it real. If she could postpone it, hide it, bury the secret deep down until it couldn't be found, perhaps it would just disappear. A part of her told her that she knew it wouldn't, and reluctantly she knew he would come for her no matter what she did, but she didn't want to believe it. She didn't want to face the truth. Speaking the words aloud would make it real. Official. Finally a problem in everybody's lives. Her mother's, Sherlock's, John's...she didn't want to do it. She didn't want it to be real. Not real. Not real.
So as she buried it deep down inside of her, piling other thoughts and feelings on top of it so it couldn't be seen, inevitably it began to eat at her skin. It began clawing at her insides in desperate search for an escape, like a wild creature that didn't belong in the zoo. Soon enough, it was going to break it's way out of the cage, and leave a trail of destruction behind it. Jayne would not be able to stop the havoc the animal was going to cause in the zoo. But for now, all she could do was put as much weight as she could upon it, trapping it in it's cage, shutting the door and building up the walls as strong as she could build them. The creature was scratching and clawing at the walls of it's cage. Scratch, scratch, scratch. But one day her strength won't be enough. One day the thought wouldn't be the only thing trying to kill her.
Your attempts will be laughable. -SM
Revenge. -SM
Revenge. It was the one word that he kept sending. It was like a constant reminder of why he was doing this, what I had done. Was it what Sherlock had done? Was he already in danger? Scratch, scratch, scratch, clawing at the cage. Scratch, scratch. Jayne sunk deeper into her self, as if trying to make herself as small as possible, even though she felt as if she couldn't become any smaller if she tried. She was hunted. She was helpless. She was useless. Worthless. Weak. He's coming to get her. She can't escape. Nobody wants her. Why did her father bother keeping her in the first place? He wanted her dead. He's going to get his wish. He promised him. An evil man always keeps his word. His word - revenge. Her attempts will be laughable. His word? Revenge, revenge, revenge.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
