Hi all! Thanks for checking my story out. Just a warning: there is violence.

I hope you enjoy

DFTBA xx

Moriarty's POV

He was bored. Too bored. The scene before him was tedious. He was at a bar watching those who passed by. The men would regard him as a threat, and pull their female companions closer. The women would give him a wink and a smile with their caked faces, and pass him in their cheap heels. Style these days was going to shit. Seriously, could no one afford a nice Westwood?

The state of mind of the bar-goers was just as atrocious, if not more, as their clothing. Everyone was boring, dull, and they couldn't think for themselves. Always doing what was expected. All they thought of was themselves. Moriarty did enjoy thinking of himself, to tell the truth, but in the vast expanse of his mind that was only a single thread of the web he had created.

A girl that looked barely legal was being felt up by middle-aged businessman. A very inebriated man was trying to balance his glass on the top of his head, it didn't end well. He chuckled to himself. All these single-minded people, how boring it must be for them to live their lives.

He scanned the room once more, and his eyes rested on a lone woman. She was sitting in the back corner, far away from the warm bodies, and the heavy drum of the bass coming from the shit music that played over the speakers. She seemed out of place, shirt to high and skirt to long in comparison to the others. The lone table she sat at held a single electric candle that illuminated her sharp features. High cheekbones dotted with freckles, large green eyes, and a small flower of a mouth blooming just below her nose. Her brown hair was pulled into a loose bun; a singular strand had escaped from its confinement and dangled in front of her eyes. He had the urge to push it behind her ear. As he pictured her looking up at him with her doe eyes and smiling, a heat began to build in his stomach.

Not only did her attire set her apart from the crowd of unrefined bodies, but also her manner of carrying herself. Ankles crossed underneath chair. Hand resting on cheek, toying gently with an earring. She looked elegant just sitting there, observing people while he observed her.

Suddenly a blond man approached her. He seemed like a guy that still thinks life is a college party. His steps were deliberate, and conscious. He wasn't drunk, but the look on his face made it seem like he was acting tipsy. Moriarty saw the woman's shoulders stiffen as she looked up and saw the tall blond looming over her. The man took a seat, even though she didn't ask him to sit down. He started looking intensely at her, giving her petty compliments that didn't give her justice. Moriarty knew what was going to happen next. Given her body language she would most likely decline the man's offer to go home with him. The man would lean in closer asking if she was sure. While her personal space was being invaded, he would slip zolpidem into her drink then leave, keeping a close watch on her until she started to sway in her seat then finally pass out. He would have his way with her, then leave her on some street corner, half dressed and shivering in the cold night.

Moriarty had seen this countless times before, never bothering to aid the damsels in distress because it would take too much effort on his part, and he never liked to dirty his hands. He never felt bad about not helping them, sure their lives might be ultimately ruined, and they'll jump every time they see a shadow on the street, but at least they would have a story to tell. Their lives wouldn't be as boring.

Just as Moriarty predicted, the man slipped the zolpidem into her drink, and proceeded to stalk across the bar. The girl watched him as he walked away, her shoulders still tense. She looked down at her drink, stirring it with the small black straw. She then proceeded to empty the contents, along with the glass itself, into an odd looking potted plant beside the table. Smart girl, Moriarty thought to himself. He still wasn't sure if he would of intervened or not, but he was glad he didn't have to make that decision.

She pushed the stray locks of hair away from her face in a huff, then got up and made her way towards the door. She walked with her shoulders down, bum in, and neck elongated. Her body was a long and thin line, elegantly sweeping across the floor with no added hip or chest movement. He loved good posture, and a modest stride. The heat that had entered his body before had started to intensify. He began to imagine what she would look like without her flowing skirt, and collared top. What her hair would feel like spread out on the dark pillows that rested on his bed. What her breath would sound like against his neck, going out as shaky moans, and coming in as desperate gasps.

She seemed smart, so it would be hard to get her go with him willingly. As he stood up from the bar, he saw the blond man from earlier slink his way through the crowd and out the door. Seconds after the girl left. Maybe I could use this to my advantage, Moriarty thought.

Emily's POV

Stupid, stupid, stupid! What the fuck was I thinking? I cursed myself multiple times after exiting the crowded bar. Should've just stayed home and finished reading my book, or maybe I could've watched a movie, or baked a soufflé. Scratch the soufflé, that would have been a disaster. I continued to walk down the street, breathing in the fresh air.

My train of thought was interrupted as I heard the bar door open and slam shut. I turned around and saw him, the blond man. Matt I think his name was. Thankfully he hadn't seen me, yet. I rushed down the street trying to make as little sound as possible, which was excessively hard in Louboutins. I checked over my shoulder, and our eyes met. Shit. Shit. Shit.
"Hey girlie! Whereya goin'?" He called. He was definitely more tipsy than before.
"Come on baby," he continued, "I'm not going to hurt you! Lets just have some fun."
I turned back and ran as fast as I could. I heard him hot on my tail, spitting out profanities with each step.

I turned the corner and ran even farther down the block. As I reached the end of the road, I realized I made a grave mistake. Construction blocked of all pathways, except for the one I came from. There was no way I could retrace my steps fast enough to evade him. He was probably an American footballer, judging by his longs strides and broad shoulders. My breath began to quicken as I looked around for an escape. Quite a few of the buildings seem abandoned, or empty because it was around 12 at night. I wouldn't be able to go through the construction in the dark. My head whipped around as I heard his footsteps approaching, my instincts took over and I felt my feet carry me towards an alley. God, please let it route back around the block.

It did go around, but there was a fence. 10 feet, with barbed wire curling around the top.
"Ooo, big mistake girlie. No there is no way you can escape." I heard him say, as I felt him walk nearer and nearer.
"You should have just accepted my initial offer. A quick shag then you would've been on your way, but now things are going to be a bit more difficult for you."
"People saw you and me at the bar. They'll know it was you." I said in a shaky voice. Get it together, stop being such a coward.
"Sure they saw you and me," he said, " but they probably won't remember you. Some girl that just sits alone, not even dressed to impress. No one will miss you." His voice sounded like acid, and it burned holes through my chest, through my thumping heart.
"HELP! HELP SOMEBODY!" I screamed, "PLEASE SOMEBODY!"
"Shut up frigid bitch. Nobody is going to hear you." He said, as he looked me in the eye.

His set of dark blue eyes were turning black. He made his way forwards, and I turned around and tried my luck with the fence. I hadn't even gotten two feet up when I felt his hands on me. They wrapped around my waist and yanked me down, hard. I screamed and writhed around, trying to escape from his solid grasp. The weight of his body pressed the air out of my lungs. I tried to kick him, or hit him, anything to get away, but my efforts were futile. I was face down in the dirt of the alleyway, and I could feel the rocks scrapping my cheeks. One of his hands forced my head down, as the other one made it's way up my skirt. I thrust my hips upwards, hitting him in the stomach. He let out a loud huff, and his strength faltered momentarily. I used this as an opportunity to turn around. I was now facing him, and shot my hands at his face. Thankfully I hadn't cut my nails this morning.
After a few well placed swipes across his cheeks, I pushed my thumbs at his eyes. That really did him in. He backed off of me, holding his hands overs his eyes, crying out profanities. I got up off the ground, and surveyed the scene. I still had the fence behind me, and the only blocking the alleyway was the man, but he seemed more occupied with his eyes than me. I took my chance and bolted.

I wasn't quick enough.
It was like one of those slow motion scenes in a movie. The hero was so close to getting what he wanted, but the villain stopped him in his tracks. I was running as fast as I could, pumping my legs over and over again even though they were screaming at me, but it wasn't enough.
He grabbed my ankle and I went hurtling towards the ground. Bright lights danced behind my eyes as my head hit the pavement. He took advantage of me dazed state to yank me off my feet and push me against the wall.
"Please don't do this. Please stop."
"Has anyone ever told you ya need to loosen up a bit? I swear you are one of the most frigid bitches I've had." He hissed in my ear. His hot breath smelled of cheap cocktails, and cigarettes.

I wriggled around, trying to get away from his hands, but he only pushed my head against the wall, causing another flurry of lights behind my eyes.
"We could've done this the easy way, but you refused. We could've done this the hard way, but you fought me off. Now I only see one more way that we can do this." I felt his hands snake around my throat.

Please stop, dear God make him stop. Why is this happening? I bit down on my lip, and felt tears burst out of my eyes. Why is this happening?
"It could've been so good, but you had to go and ruin it." With those words he began to squeeze his hands, and cut of my air way.
I would screamed if I could, but the only sound that came out was a choked gasp

Pain coursed through my veins and bursted my capillaries. All of the air had been sucked from my body. Black spots started to form inside my eyes, and I could feel myself drifting off to a foreign place in my mind.

Then all of a sudden it stopped. The hands around my neck were yanked away. the weight of his body pushing against mine was lifted. Nothing was left to hold me up, so my body slid down the rough wall, all the way to the cold ground of the alleyway.
I tried to move. GET UP! I shouted at myself, but none of my limbs were responding. I was frozen on the ground, helpless.