Title: The Ghost in the Game
Author: EmmyAngua
Rating: 15
Genre: Thriller, Mystery, Darkfic
Warnings: Implied minor character incest. Implied torture. Bad language.
Ships: Implied Sherlock/John, Molly/Other.
Summary: The game is about to start and Moriarty has all but one piece in place, Molly's only chance of survival is keeping Moriarty amused, and Sherlock and John are being haunted… by their Victorian selves.
A/N: Thank you for the encouraging reviews. I'm posting this next chapter a little earlier than planned for you as a thanks.
Chapter 2
John would – grudgingly - admit that he enjoyed a healthy level of excitement in his life. Perhaps a little more than healthy; if pushed. But he did appreciate moments of calm too, and the most reliable of those was the twenty minutes Sherlock spent shaving.
It was a guaranteed twenty minutes of peace in which John could read the newspaper articles that Sherlock would normally judge him for reading, and if he laughed at the Andy Capp strip nothing would be read into his sexuality, his upbringing, or his social background from it.
He had just fished yesterday's paper out of the recycling and headed over to his chair when he saw what had been done to the wall.
"SHERLOCK!" he yelled furiously.
There was a crash from the bathroom. In seconds his shirtless flatmate appeared wielding a machete - one side of his face was still covered in shaving foam.
"What?"
Sherlock looked around, apparently disappointed that life and limb did not appear to be in danger.
John pointed at the wall. "Explain that."
Sherlock looked at the wall, then back to John. "It appears to be a wall. Is that all? Really John, I respect the bathroom boundaries you were so keen on going on about, you should do the same for me."
John bit back a sarcastic laugh and refrained from pointing out that most people didn't need to have those sort of boundaries explained.
"You've shot at it! Mrs. Hudson will go spare!"
Sherlock looked at the wall again. "No I haven't."
John turned to point furiously. "Yes you-!"
The wall was spotless. More accurately, it was bullet-hole free.
"I swear," John snapped, "there were bullet-holes in the wall! They spelt out 'VR'."
This was the ciphers all over again. Sherlock seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "Did you get a picture?"
"There wasn't time! I only looked away for a second. And like I said, it spelt out 'VR'. Any ideas?"
Sherlock frowned. "I would never shoot that wall," he shrugged. He jerked his thumb over at the wall above the couch. "That one is far more structurally sound."
He turned and left – swinging his machete rather disappointedly – leaving John staring at the wall.
Of course, it quickly turned into one of those odd moments that soon get rationalised away. He'd had a bad night. Those prawns he'd ate hadn't sat well. His subconscious was messing with him… a few weeks later he barely remembered it.
Though when Sherlock did shoot a smilie face into the wall John had to take some of the blame for giving him the idea.
Moriarty was picking through the thin plastic bag she had dropped. He examined her chicken soup as though he had no idea what food was meant for, and she winced inwardly as he stood tossing her packet of tampons from hand to hand like a perverse juggler.
He was blocking her path to the door. Molly (it was impossible to think of herself as Meredith in grim world) sat perched on the bed ready to spring up at a chance for escape.
"Did you ever play with dolls when you were little?" he asked conversationally. "Barbies? Sindy – do you get them over there? Maybe those funny little Sylvanian animal families?"
"Sometimes," she shrugged.
"And did you ever spend so long setting up your little scene and all the outfits that by the time you were ready to start playing your mommy made you stop?"
"I guess so."
"You guess so. Well I have."
"That explains a lot. Were you a big Barbie fan?"
He grinned, still tossing the box of tampons from one hand to the other.
Before she even saw what was coming he sprung forward and struck her so hard that she was thrown backwards onto the bed. She shrieked and tried to get up, but before she could recover he was already back in his former position, tossing the box as though he'd done nothing.
She scrabbled back to a sitting position as he continued.
"Imagine the whole world is a game. I can make anyone do anything I want. Now I've been setting up one particular game for a looong time. Years and years and years. And now I have all the dolls and all the outfits and I finally have found the exact accessories I need. I'm finally ready to play."
Molly could say nothing. Her face was stinging and there were only sarcastic comments in her mind.
"See I could play it like a computer program. I could push the buttons and make them say and do what I want. Or I could join in and have a go at moving them around myself. It's less safe, but I'm just wacky like that."
"How does this involve me?" she asked.
"Well you see, annoying as it is, you are part of the game now. And you can give me access to the people I actually care about playing with."
"Sherlock Holmes."
"Bingo."
She swallowed.
"Why should I? I mean, if what you say is true… if my husband is dead… why should I let you hurt anyone else? I don't care what you do to me. Have me arrested for murder. Or kill me and chop my body up into little pieces…" Her voice wobbled, but her eyes met his without backing down.
"You really have no imagination, do you? And you still don't get it. If you refuse, I've lost nothing. This way is just more fun for me. Once my fun is over, you die just like your precious husband. Your only chance of survival is to keep me interested."
"Kill me then."
Moriarty laughed again. "You don't get to choose."
He bounced over to the microwave and began poking around her bowls and cups. He chattered away as he poured the soup into a bowl.
"I had a brand new gadget sent to me this morning," he chirped. "All the way from locker 413, Chicago Airport."
He reached into his jacket pocket and held up a mobile phone.
"That's mine!"
"I know!"
He ripped open the box of tampons and began dropping them into the soup. He looked as engrossed as a boy might playing in a sandpit. Then he shoved the bowl into the microwave, spun the dial, and set it cooking.
"Now I love a new mobile. Sorry. Cell. So much fun! I wonder what apps it's got? Has it got that one for playing air guitar? Oh but look-" he tapped the screen "- here's a brand new app designed by me."
He held the screen up in front of her face.
"It's my…my contact list."
"Yes it is. How many contacts have you got? Two hundred and twenty one." He scrolled through. "Let's pick one at random. Hannah Wade. Who's she?"
"She used to be my PA." Her voice sounded weak even to herself.
"Like her?"
Molly gave a non-committal shrug.
"I've programmed this phone so that when a contact is deleted from it, that person's name, address, and number is sent to one of my own network of hit-men. In short, if I delete Hannah Wade from the list I delete Hannah Wade. Shall we see if it works?"
He raised his finger.
Molly forced herself not to reply. She just knew that if she did he'd gleefully bring his finger down on the delete option.
"No? Don't care about poor old Hannah then?"
No reply.
"We're clearly better off without her then."
Moriarty pressed delete.
"No!" Molly leapt for the phone but he pushed her back onto the bed hard enough to make the room spin.
"I wasn't bluffing. Next time it won't be some stupid PA, it'll be your mommy or your sister or maybe I'll go crazy and delete the whole contact list. From now on you do everything I tell you to, got it?"
He grabbed her collar and pulled her close to his face. "Got. It?"
Molly nodded.
"Good. Cause we're going to have a little fun with Molly Hooper's fake life. She needs a fake boyfriend. And a fake blog. Are you a fake cat person?"
Thirty seconds later he was gone, leaving behind no explanation to what he had planned, beyond telling her he'd be in touch soon.
A minute later her microwave burst into flames.
A/N: Hopefully this isn't too strange for you. I promise every single question you might have will be answered in the coming chapters. More will be up shortly, but please soothe my insecurities by telling me what you think!