A/N: There's a little note at the bottom for you all~
[Chapter one]
It was a well known fact that James Moriarty was a dangerous man. Violent, sadistic, merciless and unsympathetic. He took what he wanted, by whatever means he had to. Nobody crossed him without dying or if they were unlucky, beaten to within an inch of their lives then left to spread the word about what could happen to any others who where dumb enough to cross him. Of course, Jim never spilt any blood himself. He had his 'Tiger' to do that. A large, ex-military man who seldom smiled unless he was breaking somebody's neck, Sebastian Moran. Jim pointed his finger and Sebastian would obey. Jim regarded Sebastian as his deadliest weapon (or second to that of his intellect) and Sebastian treated Jim as if he were the monarch rather than a criminal. A deadly and efficient pairing, who together instilled a fear in those who knew of them that not even a certain hallucinogenic drug manufactured in a army base hidden away at Dartmoor could rival.
When somebody crossed the consultant criminal, Moran would collect them, tie them up and await further instruction. Sometimes, the word would arrive though text, a simple command; [Kill him. –JM] other times, the Jim himself would arrive to watch his pet at play. He'd sit meters from the bound victim, an ever present smile painted onto his face, those dark eyes locked onto theirs, slowly chewing at a fresh piece of gum with the upmost of content. The few that survived the onslaught would swear until the day that they died that when Jim entered the room; Sebastian became more predatory, his actions becoming much more purposeful and showy. It became not just a murder, but a full scale production, a game. It two man show and the various screams that escaped from whoever had been stupid enough to cross the Napoleon of crime where the score for the game. Each wail setting the mood, allowing Jim to know exactly what was going though the victims mind. What hurt them more, what they feared the most, it was almost like having cheat codes. Sebastian played the villain, Jim always adoring to watch the 'good guy' or at least the better of two evils, be slowly pulled apart, body cell by body cell, until nothing remained. Sebastian was more than willing to oblige, always sure to put on a show for his audience of one, right until the very last drop of blood had fallen and dried on the ground beneath them. Jim Moriarty's very own live action horror game. He controlled the pieces, and was blessed with an array of different tools so large, that he never had time to use them all on one victim. It was a game that never got boring no matter how many times Jim replayed it. There was always something new to do, a new way to kill somebody discovered. And of course with the most abiding of pieces to control, Jim knew he would never be let down.
"Break his arms first, from the fingers up~"
"Yes Boss."
"Strip him down, then drown him with gasoline~"
"Yes Boss."
"Make them scream Tiger~ I'm so bored of the gag~"
"Yes Boss."
Sebastian always followed Jim's orders to the letter. Careful, precise movements, not killing them an instant before the Irishman gave the command, inflicting the most pain that he could. Years of serving Jim had taught him a thing or two about the body. Not as much as Jim seemed to know, but more than enough to keep a man conscious and in excruciating pain. The knowledge was handy for both Sebastian and Jim. It meant that Jim didn't have to give as precise commands as he might if he were using another one of his employees to play the game. Because Sebastian had been involved so many times, he knew and understood the limitations of the human body, what it could take and what it couldn't. He'd been surprised that there were so many things that could be done to a man's body before they actually died. He'd always been taught the quick and easy way, but the slow and delicate way was so much more rewarding. It allowed for so many ways to gather information, or to get Jim's point across, and the feeling of power that both men received from that was intoxicating. That was there reward for playing such a game, the true feeling of satisfaction and for Sebastian, being able to quench his bloodlust for a while.
Occasionally though, when Jim became bored, he became a whole different type of violent, and the game changed.
It was out of frustration, not being able to entertain himself for longer than a few short minutes, not being able to find anything substantial to grasp his interest, that Jim Moriarty became truly violent. First, he'd take it out on anything within arm's reach, crockery, tables, chairs, anything that he could break, preferably into small unsalvageable pieces. Then he'd abuse anybody who crossed him. Clients who didn't interest him enough or employees. He had struck Sebastian on several occasions, something the sniper had gotten used to. An occupational hazard. The smaller of the two certainly knew how to throw a punch, he just loathed getting dirty. Blood on one of his suits irritated Jim almost as much as being bored.
If Jim still had not managed to find something to occupy him, he then took it one step further. He'd kidnap a random person, and have Sebastian kill them as slowly as possible. It was a thrill, the candid approach to everything. On a normal day, Jim would spend hours carefully planning a kidnapping, making sure everything was perfect. Checking and double checking all of his data to make sure there was no chance of being apprehended for abduction. When he was bored though, Jim was rash, taking the first person he could get his hands on. Knowing that he could get caught at anytime added to the excitement, it made it more fun for him. Man or Woman, no person over the age of seventeen, Sebastian not being as willing if they were any younger, and refused to participate in even abduction if they were under the age of seven, would do. It only took a matter of seconds to take somebody, and within minutes, Jim would have a new victim and a new game to play.
That day had been no exception to the rule.
Bored, and frustrated that Sherlock had shown no interest in his latest ploy, Jim had taken to staring out the apartment window, looking for his newest play thing. He wanted somebody who looked like they could take a beating, somebody who he could pull apart piece by piece, slowly and painfully for hours on end, and still be able to continue even after that. Much to his distaste, all he had seen so far were elderly women, gossiping about all sorts of dull things, and a few school children running home from their day's lessons at school. Nothing he could use. He contemplated taking a group of them and simply playing with them one after another as each one died, but the risks grew far too high when he kidnapped more than one victim at a time. That was only done when he had planned the abduction. The more people missing from their homes, the easier it was for the authorities to pinpoint a location and spoil Jim's fun. No, it had to be one victim who could withstand the wrath of a bored psychopath. At least for a few hours.
After half an hour of a despicable lack of game pieces, Jim was lucky enough to spot one. He had been about to give up, and simply send for a bomb technician to go and hide explosives under a cab when he spotted what he considered to be the perfect plaything. John Watson had been in the wrong place at the very wrong time. Instantly, Jim leapt back from the window, turning around with a clap of his hands, rubbing them together eagerly. He sent Sebastian down to collect John and picking up his suit jacket, bounded down the stairs after the sniper, a malicious smile creeping onto his face. Who better than to torture than the only thing Sherlock Holmes seemed to be interested in? That would be sure to spike the consulting detective's interest, and if not, John would still make a more than sufficient toy to play with. Even if at the end of the game, John managed to survive and Sherlock never showed up, Jim would still enjoy the day's events. There was nothing quite like hearing a fully grown man screaming in agony, begging for his life like a dribbling baby. It was empowering, intoxicating. The way the screams were amplified and echoed around the abandoned warehouses they were brought to, or the way they begged for their lives while tied to their very own kitchen tables, spluttering through the makeshift gags or trying to form words though ragged breaths in an attempt to try and ask for freedom they knew would never come. That was what Jim craved. Would John Watson be the same? Would he beg and cry and plea? Would he break? Jim was keen to find out. He had never played with an army man before. He'd done all sorts of things to Sebastian, but nothing that would render his best employee useless, nothing too violent or psychologically damaging. John on the other hand was free game. Jim could do whatever he pleased to him.
[...]
It took Sebastian less than two minutes to subdue and load John into the car, nobody had been around to notice and any surveillance cameras that were above them had been taken care of long ago by Jim. Jim knew that even if nobody had been around to witness the abduction, nothing would have come from it in any case. They were all either too well bribed, or too scared to speak up against Jim Moriarty. People in the street were always 'moving away' never to be heard of again. Speaking up would only cause the current residents to join their ex-neighbours, their ashes hidden amongst that of dead farm animals.
Climbing into the car beside the unconscious John, Jim gave Sebastian a small nod, and without a word, the car pulled away from the curb and headed south, towards a small lot of abandoned warehouses, where Jim often played his games. After John, Jim noted, he would have to find a new recreational centre. He'd used the warehouses for a little more than a month, and it was time to move on. Staying in one area for too long was dangerous, and became too routine. There was a nice place to the west that provided ample cover that would work quite nicely. It was for sale too, so Jim didn't have to do anything overly strenuous to take it for his own. Killing the competition would be enough, even if he was the highest bidder. After all, there was nothing like a small mass murder to reiterate who was in charge on the streets of London.
"What are you planning on doing with him?" Sebastian glanced back at Jim though the rear view mirror, pulling the consultant from his thoughts.
"I've got all sorts of things lined up for our dear Doctor~" Jim smirked, patting the unconscious man on the head affectionately. "I'll have him howl until his master comes to collect him, and if Sherlock never shows up, you can cut of the mutts head and hide it in Sherlock's fridge with the rest of the heads~" He looked back up at the sniper who seemed more than pleased with the answer. A brutal, bloody beating, that would likely last hours. Just what both men needed, a real game. Violence without context was the best type of entertainment that could be provided. Everybody enjoyed a bit of bloodshed from time to time, but for Sebastian, the feeling of taking another man's life was almost erotic. Especially when he was able to show off his talent for taking another's life.
"Sounds like fun." He chuckled, pulling into the warehouse complex. "Let's hope I get to behead him."
"It would make for a good article in the paper~ I'm sure Sherlock would start paying attention then~" Jim nodded, climbing out of the car no sooner than it had come to a stop, taking the time to flatten down his suit jacket and trousers, making sure he looked immaculate as always. "Bring him inside and tie him to the chair~ we'll have him sitting for now, he can stand after~ he has had his legs broken~"
"Yes Boss."
[...]
It hadn't taken John long at all to regain consciousness. Jim gave a small grin of content upon seeing the hazy blue eyes open and the panicked expression that quickly filled them as the doctor realised his situation. The first move. John took instantly started to thrash about, letting out a curse, followed by another fouler one as he tried to rip his hands free of the ropes securely holding him down on the strong wooden chair. The chair itself was purposefully made so that no amount of elevated adrenalin flued attempts to escape would remove the arms from the chair. Rather, it was carved out so that there were as little joins as possible. It had also been bolted to the ground, preventing it from moving or toppling backwards. While it was always amusing to see people fall backwards on the chair and scramble about like a daft tortoise on its back, it was impractical for the games activities and grew repetitive if the victims continually tried to make some sort of escape after falling a first time. John's eyes flicked between the assortment of course ropes holding his arms to the arms of the chair, feeling his legs bound in a similar way, and then up to survey his surrounds. As he spotted Jim, his struggling intensified, looking around for means of escape only to spot Sebastian, some distance away leaning on a pillar. It was evident that he wasn't getting out any time soon. Jim could see John trying to work out a means of escape, surveying the ropes for any signs of weakness, or the chance that they might have been loosening with his struggles. No chance of that of course, Jim knew how good Sebastian was at tying knots. John wouldn't get free with anything less than removing his hands from his forearms, which of course was impossible to do in his position. Instead, John was completely at Jims mercy, which was something the consultant had no intention of showing.
"You've woken up~" Jim beamed like a small child, clapping his hands together, rubbing them with a sick eagerness for the second time that day. "Good~ I was beginning to think that perhaps Mr. Moran had hit you a little too hard and I'd be here all day waiting for you to join us~"
"What the hell are you playing at Moriarty!?" John growled back, still trying to remove his arms from the sides of the chair. "What are you planning this time?!"
"Just a little game~" Jim smiled. Sebastian chuckled lightly, content to lean on the pillar while Jim tormented John, cigarette lazily hanging in his mouth and hands buried deep within his jacket pockets as he waited for his first command. The laugh only made Jims smile widen. "The rules are quite simple really~ Moran plays with you, you scream, I'm entertained and at the end of the game, you die~" he spoke as if he were explaining the rules for a game of football to a group of children. "The louder you scream, the more I'm entertained~ if you don't scream, and I get bored, I'll find other ways to get a reaction from you. There are many methods of torture, but I'm sure a veteran solider like you knew that already~"
"You're doing this because you are bored? You're insane!"
"I am aware of that~" Another chuckle from Sebastian. Jim noted that he seemed to be enjoying the banter. Normally, he was silent until he was given the opportunity to start his work. Seemed as if the sniper had something against John, or by extension, something against Sherlock that he wanted to take out on John. Green was a colour that suited the burly man quite well. "It might come in handy if I ever fancy having myself caught for my crimes~ the insanity plea tends to cut jail sentences down by a considerable amount." John paled slightly, before giving one more futile attempt to rip himself free.
"So what? You're going to have your bloody lackey hit me until I scream?" John shook his head, finally stopping his attempts to break free, choosing to preserve his strength. Jim gave him a small nod, an acknowledgment that John had chosen well to not waste any more energy thrashing about. The doctor was smarter than Sherlock gave him credit for.
"Not just hit, but that's a good way to look at it~" Jim stood up, walking over to John, bending down slightly so that he could lean in close enough so that his nose and Johns almost touched, a wicked smirk telling John just how much danger he was in. "I'm bored. And the only reason I am bored is because Sherlock isn't paying me any attention~ Do you know what I do when I'm bored John? I do this. I take people off the street and I play games with them until they die~" Jim kept his gaze locked onto Johns the whole time, his brown eyes meeting John's blue ones with a fierce and angry expression. "I cut them up; I pull out their insides and hang them from the rafters just because I can. Because you can do that while a person is still alive, providing you do it right, and the look on their faces is more than enough entertainment for me." He pulled back, brushing down his suit and stepping back.
"Sherlock always ignores my messages~ he never responds, he's so dull now~ but you!" Jim spun on his heels, walking back to the chair he had positioned for himself. "He'll drop everything to run to be by his little Johnny's side~ How do you get him to react so quickly~?" sitting down, Jim crossed his left leg over his right, folding his hands neatly in his lap. Tilting his head slightly to the side, Jim's eyes narrowed slightly, as he thought over several possible answers to his question before continuing.
"You've slept with him no doubt," Jim nodded to his self and then to Sebastian who instantly walked from his place leaning on the pillar, to Johns side. "I wonder if that's all I have to do to get his attention~ let him take me to bed like I'm some sort of cheap whore~" There was a grunt from Sebastian, as he turned from John to face Jim.
"Are we going to start this? Or are you just gonna talk him to death Boss?" He really was more eager than Jim to start the assault. John felt his heart begin to race. He had been hoping that Jim would get so ravelled up in his questioning, and theatrical nonsense that it would stay at just that, harmless, terrifying banter. Jim himself seemed surprised by the question; as if he had forgotten about what he had been doing. He hadn't of course, the fact that Sebastian had spoken up, when normally he waited for orders had caught him off guard. Jim was supposed to be able to trust that Sebastian would never step a foot out of line, he didn't appreciate the sudden act of disobedience. If Sebastian continued to speak when not addressed, John wasn't the only one who would be suffering a painful couple of hours. Sebastian wouldn't have anything broken of course, or at least nothing that he needed in order to work, but he'd still certainly learn for his defiance.
"I've had peoples tongues cut out for interrupting me Moran, I'd hate for you to lose yours." Jim replied coldly, not bothering to look over to Sebastian, instead keeping his eyes fixed firmly on Johns. Sebastian shrugged in reply, but didn't speak any further. Instead, he took to drumming the fingers of his right hand on the side of his leg impatiently waiting for permission to start. The nod had simply been the command to come over and prepare. On occasions, a nod was the signal to begin but Sebastian knew that Jim wanted to drag out the suspense for as long as possible, that he wanted to watch Johns mind think of all the possibilities of what might happen to him. Much like Sebastian was capable of waiting days for the perfect shot though his sniper scope, Jim could sit and watch one of his 'toys' squirm about for hours, barely moving at all. Sebastian sincerely hoped that his speaking up wasn't going to make Jim drag it out too much further, he wanted to begin. He was already riding his rush for all it was worth, and didn't want to lose it half way though breaking a bone or puncturing a vital organ.
John was more than happy to drag out the start time of the whole ordeal. He was hoping that by some miracle he'd get out unscathed, that Jim would receive a better offer and leave him be. It was highly unlikely, and the way that the consultant was staring right though him was more than enough proof that John wasn't going to leave unscathed, but he could still hope, even prey for a stroke of good luck. After all, Jim himself had told John and Sherlock once that he was, as Jim had put it, 'so changeable'. Though the prospect of what might change Jims mind was somewhat unethical, John couldn't but hold onto a small amount of hope that the consultant really would get a better offer and leave him be. He hoped even more that in the case that Jim was called away, he would take Moran with him. Though Jim seemed to want to be around to watch John being beaten to an inch of his life, and possibly even to the point where he actually died, John wouldn't put it past Jim to still have his lackey to the dirty work while he took care of other business. John shuddered at the thought, closing his eyes and trying to remain calm. He could handle this, he'd been in the hands of Moriarty before, he could make it though the whole ordeal again. Opening his eyes, John glared back at Jim who was obviously enjoying the whole show, still not giving away anything that he might have had planned. John wasn't going to give him what he wanted. He wasn't going to break, especially before anything actually happened to him. There was always the possibility that Jim wouldn't bring John any physical harm, though it seemed slim. Sherlock had once expressed that Jim seemed to enjoy emotional abuse as much as he did physical. The consultant may have simply wanted to pull Johns mind apart and leave him psychologically traumatised. John could handle that, he'd dealt with that before. He just wished that Jim would speak and get it all over and done with. Jim had no intention of starting anything yet though. For the time being, John and Sebastian would just have to wait in silence while Jim played his own mind games with the pair of them, feeding himself on the absolute control he held over both of them. He never lost at his game, and had no intention of starting now.
Five Chapters. Hopefully one a day. Merry Christmas to you all~
