Jim Moriarty
It all begins when James is seven. Up until then his life was absolutely perfect, living in a large house on the outskirts of Dublin, surrounded by wealth, family and privilege.
At the age of seven, he hears his mother confronting his father about an affair. In a rage, she wishes him dead. Confused by his mother's grief, and always fiercely loyal to her, he steals his father's army revolver that night and shoots him while he is sleeping. His mother wakes up to the bang, covered in her husband's brain matter. Inconsolable and disgusted, she send him to doctors, to psychiatrists, and finally, away to a boarding school in England. She does not provide him with a contact address, does not weep when he leaves, never to return.
Bitter, he discards James and will only answer to Jim. Throughout his years at secondary school he learnt how easy it was for him to manipulate people, how easy it was for him to get what he wanted.
He didn't shy away from crime at his school, he embraced it. By fourteen, he ran the school. Gone was the timid and strange young Irish lad, replaced by a teenager mature beyond his years, full of thin and gangly limbs, mouth full of smart comeback and quick promises. He was everybody's friend and nobodies enemy. That was, until one student refused to make a repayment. He broke both of his arms and left an ugly scar on the boys face. News of his temper spread like wildfire, and his classmates changed from friends in need to scared customers. The change brought a new respect, it also shifted Jim's personality, making him colder, moulding him into the man he was to become.
College became a more serious affair, petty crimes turned into a structured high-functioning business. He found himself with enough spare cash to turn to fellow students into lackeys. He dabbled in a few things; organised beatings, a little fraud, money lending, and a short kidnapping or two. He soon gained a reputation for being an untouchable genius, which mixed in with 'psychopath' whispers. He lapped up the attention eagerly.
It was in University that everything changed for Jim Moriarty. He went on to study Criminology at Edinburgh, pretending to learn how to stop criminals, when really he was learning how to become one, to become the best. The whole thing fascinated him, he learnt how people commit the perfect murder, how they evade the authorities, how they slip by undetected. He spent his nights studying techniques and past cases, elated at the excitement of crime.
It was in the spring of his first year when he decided to test his research. He preyed upon a clever boy from his university halls; a challenge. He took great pleasure in hunting him, even going as far as seducing him, then strangling him and staging a suicide. Jim had absolutely no idea someone was watching his every move.
Of course the death was not treated as suspicious, and Jim Moriarty's second murder was a success. However he didn't like it one bit; his hands felt dirty, he felt like the act of killing was beneath him. But he enjoyed the bloodshed, he enjoyed seeing the light extinguish from a person's eyes.
He came back to his second year a year older and a completely different person. All signs of gawky adolescence were gone, and it was safe to say he had grown into an extremely handsome man. While he hadn't grown much taller than average height, he held himself with pride and importance. His hair was cut short and neat and a five o'clock shadow crept on his upper lip. Dressed always in a crisp cotton shirt and with a playful smirk on his face, he received attention from men and women alike. He always flirted back, he found it fun to play the game, but he never followed his flirting through, he was much too busy to indulge in such human behaviour. It was his playful flirting that changed everything. After a harmless date of flirting and whiskey with a girl on his course, he set off back to the halls, feeling powerful, arrogant and full of alcohol. He had been ambushed by the girl's boyfriend and several other guys, and beat within an inch of his life. He didn't remember the fight, didn't remember being pulled away. Next thing he recalled was sitting in a bedroom, a man attending to his broken face. A stranger had stood in front of him, tall and muscular, blonde hair flopping in front of his dark blue eyes. He had explained that he was Sebastian Moran, that he knew everything, he knew who James was, what he had done last year. The cleverness of the man had excited him to no end, had made him loose control, and despite his injuries, he had taken Sebastian to bed with him that night.
Over the next few months he got to know Sebastian, the man was a bigger dark horse than anyone who he had ever met, a man worthy of his time. They began to work together, Seb's lust for violence useful in the day, and his lust for psychopaths useful at night. Jim's empire began to expand, men of power were requesting his help, and he was no longer confined to the walls of the university. With Seb by himself he was able to satisfy his bloodlust, watching on with hungry eyes as the man helped him dispose of those who needed to disappear. He couldn't help but clap his hands with glee as the man punched someone in the face, couldn't help but lick his lips when he delivered death.
They carried on like this until graduation, becoming rich and powerful, the ultimate crime team, with nobody to stand in their way. But after graduating, Sebastian threatened to break Jim. He told him he was signing up, leaving him to fight in Afghanistan. Jim wanted none of it; he didn't want to have to work alone again. They fought, badly. Seb ended up with a broken nose and Jim ended up unconscious. Jim made him promise to return.
His personality changed, for the worse possibly with the absence of Seb. He only received letters, which most of the time he didn't reply to. He moved to London and studied to get his Masters, and then his Doctorate. He shifted and emerged a cruel and angry Professor of Criminology, his empire something that everyone feared. He employed many people now, hit men, bodyguards, drivers, fraudsters. But it was not enough for him, he wanted the world, but the world happened to be holding a rifle in the Middle East.
He was now a twenty-seven year old man, lonely and bitter once more.
Sebastian didn't tell Jim that his service had ended; he just turned up at his flat one day. Jim had shot him in the arm and then taken him, not caring about the pain or blood loss. Of course Sebastian had let him; he always let Jim do whatever he wanted. Afterwards Jim had wept, years of frustration and hurt all coming out at once. Instead of consoling him, seb had struck him in the face and told the consulting criminal to get himself together. Jim was grateful for that.
Their relationship was different now, the times had changed them, and they were no longer carefree allies. Seb had gained a reputation for being the best sniper in the country and Jim had a reputation for being the most dangerous and powerful crime boss in the country. So that's how they had stayed. Seb taking orders from Jim, issuing hits, staying behind his gun, while Jim stayed behind his walls. He never had let anyone else but Sebastian in, nobody saw his face, heard his real voice, he was an enigma to almost everyone around him. He refused to let anyone else get close, and he refused to show himself to anyone other than Sebastian. In a cruel and possessive way, he loved him.
Then he came along. A sociopath, a genius, tall and beautiful, sharp tongued and sharp wits. He adored him. He watched everything he did, watched him dance around for the police, watching him solve all those little crimes. That's when he decided it was time to set him some challenges. He was brilliant, so brilliant, he needed something to stimulate him; he needed Jim Moriarty.