A Cure for Boredom
This story is based on an Omegle role play that was so brilliant that I decided to turn it into a story. Half of the credit has to go to the Molly of this story, Piecesof16. She was an absolutely brilliant Molly and I couldn't have done this without her.
I don't own any of the characters in this story. Please review, it would be brilliant to hear your opinions of the story. I hope you enjoy it.
Jim Moriarty was bored. His pet, Sebastian was out doing his job, leaving Jim on his own in their shared apartment. He had tried tormenting little children but he got bored of their screams and cries that were giving him a headache. Just when he was about to give up he saw none other than Molly Hooper walk out of St. Bart's hospital. An idea formed in his head when he watched her pile her work into her car. He followed her home from a distance and watched her through the windows of her little house for hours, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
Molly had curled up on her couch, book in one hand, and a glass of red wine in the other. On the small coffee table, she had stacked a pile of the so-called 'classic' horror films. Not that modern day pop culture could be considered classic... The Saw series made absolutely no sense at all, although she liked the Nightmare on Elm Street remake. But for now, she was distracting herself with the words of Edgar Allan Poe. To say it had been a dull week at work would be an understatement. Not a single murder victim had turned up, and that displeased the girl. Natural causes were ever so boring.
'Dull.' She thought, as she put the book away. Perhaps she read the stories too often, as they didn't amuse her as much as they used to. Then again, she had been relatively young when she had first read them. She decided to play one of the DVD's piled up on the coffee table, eventually settling on one of the Saw films. Mindless bloodshed was just the kind of thing she needed right now.
Jim grinned as he watched her put on a horror movie. He didn't think she would be the type for gore, but then again it's always the sweet innocent girls that surprise people. The time had come. It was perfect, it would be easy. Jim moved from his position across the street to the shed on the driveway of her house. He easily forced open the weak wooden door and searched for the fuse box. A pair of garden scissors caught his eye and he used them to cut through the wires. He chuckled quietly when all the lights in the house went out.
Molly groaned as everything went dark. 'Bloody blackouts.' she thought. She carefully put her wineglass on the coffee table, before getting up from the sofa, trying to find where she had put the candles. 'On the bright side, reading horror stories in candlelight might make them a bit more interesting' she mused silently, as she stumbled into the kitchen, opened one of the drawers and got out a candle and a box of matches.
Jim watched her as she went into the kitchen to find matches. He forced open the living room window and slipped through it without making a sound. 'This is going to be fun.' He smirked. Tip-toeing into the pitch black kitchen he waited for the inevitable to happen.
After a bit of fumbling she managed to light the match and the candle. She blew out the match and threw it in the sink, planning on cleaning it up at some point, when she could at least see what she was doing. She turned on her heels, planning on just going back to the living room to read her book, when her weak sight of the candle fell on a dark figure standing in her kitchen. "Bloody-" She nearly dropped the candle in surprise, as she stepped away from the man - or at least she assumed it was a man - in fear.
Jim chuckled at her fear. He knew that she couldn't see who he was and this made it all the more entertaining. The candle was shaking and this made Jim especially amused. He stepped forwards, into the candle light. A large smirk covered his face. "Hello, Molls."
Molly gasped, she recognized that voice. But, that couldn't be, right? He was dead... He was supposed to be dead. Taking another step backwards, her empty hand reached towards the knife stand. She hoped it was dark enough for him not to notice what she was doing; being alone with Jim Moriarty unarmed was dangerous, but him finding out she was arming herself... well, she'd rather not think about that. "What are you doing here, Jim?
"I was bored. I was looking for entertainment." Jim steps even closer, his face inches from hers. "And I've found it." He whispers. Jim doesn't fail to notice Molly's hand search for a weapon. He grabs her wrist in one quick movement and holds it painfully tight. "We don't want any accidents now, do we?" Jim snakes his other hand behind Molly and gently presses his hand against the small of her back.
Molly flinched when his hand clasped around her wrist. That really hadn't gone as well as she'd hoped. He was close now, a little too close for her liking, making it unable for her to get away. Unless... she was still holding the candle in her left hand. Fire burned, it could buy her some time. 'Don't be stupid' a voice in her head told her. 'You know that would never work'.
Jim pulled her closer with his hand, their bodies almost touching. "Don't be scared, Molls. I'm really a nice guy." Jim grazes his lips against hers before they come crashing down onto hers. His grip suddenly tightened on her back and wrist.
Molly dropped the candle in surprise, which immediately went out; luckily, because she already had enough to deal with at the moment. She didn't like this at all. Jim didn't do nice, and this was all just so very, very wrong. So why did she find herself responding to the kiss?
Jim smirked against her lips when she dropped the candle. They were left in complete darkness, this only added to Jim's excitement. Jim forced his tongue into her mouth and invaded it, tasting every last bit of it. She tasted like vanilla and strawberries, she was so sweet. It didn't surprise him, she was such an innocent, pathetic, clingy little girl.
Why hadn't she pulled back yet? The fallen candle had left her alone, in darkness, snogging Jim Moriarty. How could she possibly think this was a good idea? Nevertheless, she leaned in to his touch, their bodies pressing closer together.
Jim wondered why she hadn't resisted. He thought she would have fought back, tried to get away or something, but no. Instead she was responding to him. She liked it. He thought it was cute. A little girl confused about her feelings, not knowing what to do with herself. Was he that good? He must have been and this made Jim Moriarty want her even more.
Eventually, Molly broke the kiss, and she tried to step away from the man in front of her. She wasn't sure why she had pulled away, and she was even more unsure as to why she hadn't done that before. Was she really that stupid, that naïve? She must be. No sensible person would've responded the way she had.
"What's wrong, Molls?" Jim held her in his clutches, not allowing her to leave. In one sudden movement he spun her around and pinned her against the fridge, like she was a rag doll. "I'm not finished with you yet." He smirked.
She turned her head away from her captor, putting up a bit more of a struggle to get away this time. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She should've left when she had the chance, she should never have let him get that close. "Let me go, Jim."
Jim could see the fear in her eyes. It sent waves of adrenaline through his veins. Jim grabbed her cheeks with one hand and forced her head to look at him. "No." He pulled her into another kiss, but this time it was a lot more savage and animalistic.
Molly struggled fiercely, even though the kiss sent shivers down her spine and made her heart beat faster. 'No, no, no, this can't be happening.' the voice in her mind panicked. She was frightened, scared, and not just because she was being pinned to her fridge by the man in front of her. What scared her even more was the fact that, despite her desperate struggle to get away, part of her seemed to enjoy it.
Jim pulled away and studied her carefully. "You're enjoying this aren't you? Little Miss Molly Hooper enjoys being over powered and dominated. No one would ever expect that from such a sweet, harmless, innocent little girl." Jim brings a hand to Molly's cheek and he brushes it lightly. "Tell me Miss. Hooper, have you ever been touched?"
Molly didn't flinch away this time, but started into his cold, hard eyes, a look of pure hatred on her face. "Let. Me. Go."
Jim only laughed at her pathetic protest. "So you haven't?" His eyes darken at the thought of making her his possession.
"Let me go, you bastard!" Molly's mind was racing, trying to think of a way out without making the situation any worse than it already was. Part of her wondered if any of this could even get worse, but she knew very well the universe had this unspoken rule stating that, whenever you think things can't get any worse, you'll be proven wrong.
"You'll have to face something tonight, Molls. I will never let you go. Even when I've left you all alone after I've finished with you I will still have a hold on you. You will always be mine after tonight."
Molly decided now would be a good time to panic. She had no way of escaping, no way of getting out of this, and she was properly scared. She started kicking and screaming, struggling to get away as much as she could. She didn't cry, however. She had decided a long time ago she'd never let him have that satisfaction.
"Molly," Jim began to become frustrated with her useless attempts at freeing herself. He pulled out a pocket knife and waved it dangerously close to her face. "If you don't stop screaming your head off, your face won't look so sweet and innocent anymore. Understand?"
For a split second Molly wondered what would be worse, before realizing the position she was in. Trapped like the mouse she had been so often compared to. 'Oh, the irony' she mused. She stopped struggling, hatred for her captor running through every fibre of her body.
"That's a good girl." Jim pocketed the knife again and brought his hand up to her cheek again. "It'd be a shame to damage such a pretty face." He brushed his thumb over her cheek and tucked her hair behind her ear before his hand lowered to her neck and collarbone. "Such soft skin.." He murmured.
"Fuck off, Jim." she spat, the hatred clear in her voice.
Jim made his over dramatic shocked face at her words. "Such dirty words for such a sweet girl." His hands moved to the buttons on her childish cardigan.
Molly wondered if she had ever felt more powerless in her life. 'If I get out of this alive, I'll run.' she thought. 'Somewhere, anywhere, any place safe.' She knew she probably wouldn't make it 5 miles without being followed. Why didn't she run when she'd stood a bit of a chance?
Jim slowly began unbuttoning her cardigan. "I'm going to have you, Molly Hooper. Whether you like it or not and there is nothing you can do about it." He laughed at her. "You haven't got Sherly to look after you, he's dead. And Johnny, he's a suicide waiting to happen. You have no one."
Except he wasn't dead... Molly knew. Hell, she'd helped him get away with it! But he wasn't here right now, and he wouldn't be. Jim was right, she really was alone... Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. He didn't know. Jim Moriarty, the 'genius' Jim Moriarty, didn't know. Even though that bit of information really wouldn't get her anywhere, she felt sort of pleased to at least know one thing he didn't, or at least it seemed he didn't.
Jim was disappointed that he didn't get the reaction he expected from her. Her mind was somewhere else. But he quickly brought her back to the present when he ripped her cardigan open to reveal a small tank top. Jim hungrily kissed her again, but it only lasted a couple of seconds as he moved his lips down to her neck. He sucked at her soft skin, taking in the sweet taste. Suddenly Jim bit down hard on her soft flesh and smirked at the red mark that began to form.
Molly gasped in pain as she felt his teeth sink down in her neck, feeling so very, very hopeless. But perhaps... perhaps she could get away. If she could distract him, only for a second, it could give her a chance to escape. Would she really rat out her friend for her own sake? 'Desperate times, desperate measures' She reassured herself."Wait, stop."
Jim sighed. "What is it, Molls?" He brought his head up again and stared at her in the eyes.
"I... Well..." Molly started. 'Not the time to stammer, you idiot.' her mind told her. She took a deep breath, staring into his eyes. "You're wrong."
"What?" Jim pushed Molly against the fridge harder, making some of the magnets fall off. Jim Moriarty hated being told that he was wrong.
Fear surged through her, but she didn't back down. It wasn't the effect she had hoped, but at least she had managed to distract him a bit, which felt good. She hadn't just distracted him, she'd made him angry. Now that felt great. "You missed something." Molly managed to grin weakly. She was still scared, but if she acted just a little smug about her knowing more than he did.
"What are you talking about?" Jim shouted in her face. He was becoming increasingly angry. He pulled his arm back and moved it as if he was going to slap her.
Molly's weak grin turned into a smirk. She was really pissing him off, which probably wasn't a good sign. But even though this Jim was more scary and intimidating, he was also thrown off a bit. "I can't believe you don't know. Aren't you supposed to be so very brilliant?" This would cost her dearly later, she knew it would.
Jim slapped her hard across the face. His eyes were dark and his breathing rapid. "TELL ME!" He screamed at her, pulling her away from the fridge and slamming her back into it, making the contents of it rattle.
Molly grunted in pain as her back slammed against the fridge, but that didn't matter. What mattered was, she now had leverage. Just a little, but she wasn't as helpless anymore. Bravely, she stared into his eyes, still managing to smirk a bit. "Let me go, and I will."
"I'm not falling for that one, missy." Jim took out the knife again and held it against her cheek. "How about, you tell me or I'll ruin your pretty little face." Jim's eyes had a storm raging within them.
She wasn't going to obey to that threat this time. Unlike last time, she actually had a little hope it'd work. Just a little, but it was just enough to keep her going. "Fine. I'll just keep my mouth shut, then."
Jim was shocked at Molly's defiance. He was almost certain that she would crumble and tell him everything if it meant preventing herself from getting hurt. "Are you sure you want to do that?" Jim pressed the blade harder against her skin, but not hard enough to break the flesh.
"So not only aren't you the big genius I'd expected you to be, but you're deaf as well?" Molly braced herself for the sharp pain that was most likely about to come, but she never broke her gaze. Physical damage would heal, she knew that. It might take time, but it'd heal. Damage to the mind and the soul, however... She wouldn't want him to have that satisfaction. Not as long as she could do anything about it.
Jim's eye twitched. He couldn't bear not knowing something. He couldn't bear not being the one that knew everything. Jim pressed the knife into her cheek and watched as the scarlet liquid seeped out of the cut. "TELL ME NOW!" Jim roared.
Molly cringed, but didn't look away. It hurt, and she felt the blood trickle down her cheek, fuelling her hatred and her desire to make him squirm. He had the knife, yet she knew she was in control of the situation at the moment. She was the one with the information, and to Jim, knowledge was power. Well, she was going to use that power. "I told you to let me go first." She said, surprisingly calm, despite the fear and hatred running through her body.
"But if I let you go, you'll make a run for it. I'm not stupid, Molly." Jim pressed the knife harder into her cheek, blood dripped onto Jim's hand and her clothes. He couldn't believe how defiant and confidant she was being. She was never like this when he was playing 'Jim from IT' so why now? He had expected her to beg for him to stop. He'd expected her to sob and break down in front of him, but no, she was being annoyingly strong.
Her cheek was burning with pain now, and Molly was sure she was going to have to stitch that up later. Later, of course, being the key word in that sentence. "Obviously. But at least you'll know what you're so terribly wrong about." She grinned through the pain. "Besides, it's not like I would be able to run forever, would I?" Unfortunately, that bit was as true as everything else she'd said. No one tricked Jim Moriarty and got away with it, at least not for long.
Jim hesitated before he loosened his grip on the girl. He threw her to the floor and stood over her. "I've let you go. Now, tell me what you know or I will kill you, Molly Hooper." He pointed the bloody knife at her and glared at her. This was not going to plan at all. All he wanted to do was torment the girl and have his way with her, then he would leave her and return home. But now she knew something that he didn't and he would stop at nothing until he forces it out of her, one way or another.
Wow. She was legitimately surprised it had actually worked. Her escape plan was far from perfect, but she found herself having enough room to be able to squirm away. If only she could make it to the door... It was worth a shot. "You're wrong... about Sherlock." She started, slowly backing away towards the door. "He's alive. Faked his death. John doesn't know, no one knows, but the grave is empty."
Jim nearly dropped the knife he was holding. "You're lying!" Jim started to panic. What if it was true? What if Sherlock had out-smarted him? Could he have ruined his master plan? "If you're lying to me.. I will skin you." Jim spat. He realized what Molly was doing. He quickly slammed the door shut and locked it. "You're not getting away, little girl."
Molly's laugh was cold and empty, as she watched her last bit of hope die away. "As if I'd be stupid enough to do that."
"Why would Sherlock let you in on his big secret? You were nothing to him. He saw you for what you really are, a pathetic, clingy, annoying little shit." Jim spat at her, still fuming about the news.
"Which was exactly the point." Molly swiped a bit of the blood from her cheek, which still stung like mad. "Tell me, Jim. If you were going to fake your death, what would you need?"
Jim stepped back in realization. "He needed a person on the inside. He needed someone to fake the records and convince people that he was dead. I see." Jim smiled. He had changed his mind. He was going to kill her tonight. He was going to make her suffer, make her beg for him to stop, make her scream. He was going to tell Sherlock of her death and then he was going to kill his landlady, then Lestrade and then Johnny. He was going to make Sherlock Holmes burn.
"And it worked, because no one would suspect me. After all, I'm just a... how did you put it again? Pathetic, clingy, annoying little shit." It was over, and she knew it. Talking back like that had only made him angrier, and she was very well aware of the fact she would not live to see another day, and nothing could convince him otherwise. 'Very well' she thought. 'If I'm going to die anyway, I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of a breakdown'. Molly looked up at Jim, her eyes sad and empty. She was done fighting.
"You're being very cocky, Miss Hooper. I wouldn't be so rude to the man that holds your life in his hands." Jim circled her. He watched her every move like a hawk eyeing its prey. Her eyes were dull and lifeless. She had given up, she knew that he had won and this made Jim Moriarty smirk.
She let out a low chuckle. "Would it matter? Would anything I say even matter? Whatever I do, whatever I say... I'm going to die. We both know it." Molly had gone numb. She felt no pain, no sadness, not even fear.
"You're clever Molly Hooper, I'll give you that." Jim walked over to the corner of the kitchen. He took a picture of her family off the wall and looked at it. "How cute." He smirked before he threw the picture onto the floor, the glass frame shattering into pieces. Jim crouched down so he was at eye level with her, the knife still resting in his bloodstained fingers. "You're not even going to fight? You're just going to give up? I expected a little more from you, Molls. But I can't expect that much, you are ordinary after all."
"Why would I possibly want to get into a fight I have no way of winning?" She shook her head. "Only the stupidly brave would fight a losing battle. Besides, you want to watch me suffer. Watch me beg, cry even." She met his gaze. "Now that's a battle I'm willing to fight."
"You're brave, Molls. But I am sure I'll be able to break you." Jim slaps her in the face, his hand connecting with the fresh wound he created, with such a force that Molly fell onto her back. Jim took this opportunity to pounce. He jumped on top of her and straddled her. "You scared, Molls?"
Molly winced as she felt his hand connect with the cut on her cheek, feeling the blood flowing down again. It hurt, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered. The only thing she had to do now was wait until he got bored of her; which, to be honest, she hoped wouldn't take long. She didn't answer his question, and just looked at him with her empty eyes. No, she wasn't scared. She wasn't anything, just an empty shell, waiting to be destroyed.
"You can talk you know." Jim played with her hair and pulled it occasionally. When she didn't reply he got a little frustrated. "Molly.." He said in his sing-song voice. "Is anybody in here?" He shook her violently to try to get some sort of reaction.
"Why would I talk, when there's nothing to say?" She asked, her voice showing just a slight hint of... something. Annoyance, perhaps? She wouldn't know.
Jim sighed. "So you're just going to lie there in silence, not moving a muscle, waiting for me to kill you? Boooooring."
Molly shrugged. "I have zero interest in making it... what, interesting?" She shook her head. "No, I'm not going to cry, or beg for my life, because it won't have any effect. I won't put up a fight, because we both know I wouldn't be strong enough anyway. And either way, it'd give you the satisfaction of watching me squirm. And that's something I definitely don't want."
"So you're telling me that you want to die. You want me to kill you." Jim stands up and leans against the wall. "Maybe I should just let you go.. Let you live your life knowing that you were so close to death. You'd have a permanent scar on your face. You'll never be able to forget tonight and I will haunt you for the rest of your life."
Molly did take the opportunity to get up from the floor, backing away from the man as far as possible. She knew very well that if he did let her go like this, she'd probably go mad at some point. She'd be a haunted soul for the rest of her life, and that wasn't something she was looking forward to. It even scared her a bit... Well, at least she wasn't as numb anymore, although she wasn't sure that was an advantage
Jim Moriarty had changed his mind once again. He was going to let her live.. For now. He was going to quietly observe her life from a distance and wait until she began to lose her marbles. He would leave certain.. objects around her house or work place occasionally that reminded her of this night. That would scare her. She'd begin to doubt herself. And then, one day Molly Hooper would crack. She would have a mental breakdown. Then he would kill her.
Molly stared at Jim from across the room. "I'm assuming either you're going to kill me now, or you'll postpone it a bit. Either way, you seem to have made a decision."
"Yes, I have." Jim put the knife back in his pocket and straightened his jacket. He walked over to Molly and tapped her on the head. "You've provided much entertainment for me tonight, Molls. Thank you." Jim backed away and made for the door, unlocking it and opening it slightly.
Molly breathed out slowly, steadying herself on the kitchen sink because her knees had started to wobble a bit. Most people would have considered this a win; after all, she got to live. But at what cost? A lifetime of living in fear and paranoia, haunted by both nightmares and daydreams. Such a Pyrrhic victory...
"Good bye, Molly Hooper." Jim winked at her before he left the room, shutting the door behind him.
As soon as the door had shut again, she sank down onto the ground, all the emotions she had locked away being thrown at her at once. Relief, because she had survived. Fear and sadness, because of the kind of life she'd be leading from now on. Anger, both at him and herself. As she wiped a few tears away, she noticed the wound was still bleeding. Right. She'd have that, too. She rested her head against the wall, staring at the ceiling, still surrounded by darkness, a complete and utter mess.