Sebastian sat, fingers crossed and feet crossed at the ankles. Will Graham lay on the couch, completely knocked out and would probably remain so for at least a few more hours. There was a cut on Will's forehead, how he'd been knocked out at first, though they had later given him a sedative.
As Jim walked through the room, Seb muttered, "At first it was Sherlock this and Sherlock that. Now it's Will this and Will that."
"Feeling a bit underappreciated Tiger?" asked Jim with a smirk.
"Well duh."
Jim just shook his head at that, amused by Seb's pouting face. "I don't like messing with you Tiger."
"Bullshit. Of course you do."
"Oh, you're right. I nearly forgot. But I will admit; I do enjoy watching you kill more so than I like messing with you head."
"I'm flattered," Seb replied with a roll of his eyes. "Now, what's the plan? You never told me."
"Just watch and wait," said Jim. "It's more fun that way."
On the couch, Will twitched and Jim smiled. It was time to move dear Will.
It had probably been over kill on Moriarty's part but he had wanted to toy with Will quite a bit. They were no longer in London, out in the country where they wouldn't be so bothered. Moriarty had Seb drop Will off in the middle of some forested land with nothing but a knife and a radio.
Jim sat at a desk in a large mansion, one of many that Jim 'owned.' He had the walky-talky in his hands, twirling it round and round. It would be some time before Will actually awoke but Jim couldn't wait until he did.
He murdered a worthless henchman to kill some time.
Out in the forest, hours later, Will finally woke up. He tried to stand but he fell back down, his head aching and his eyesight blurry. Staying where he'd fallen, he tried to get a hold of himself, to calm down. Slowly, his last few memories were coming back to him.
God, why hadn't he listened to Hannibal? He hadn't thought anything would happen! Will hadn't even left the hotel and now he was god knows where.
Will looked around and finally spotted the knife and walky-talky near him. Slowly, he got back onto his feet. He was still unsteady but at least he remained upright this time. He ignored the knife and went straight to the walky-talky.
"Hello?" he whispered, voice soft and slightly hoarse. "Hello?"
An unfamiliar voice replied back. "Ah, little William. You're finally awake, wonderful. I'm Jim Moriarty. It is wonderful to finally talk to you."
"Moriarty," Will breathed. He gulped in the air and asked, "Where am I?"
"Now Will, that wouldn't be any fun if I told you. And call me Jim, please," replied Moriarty. "I'm sure you haven't picked up the knife yet. Pick it up."
Will looked down at the knife, not wanting to even poke it.
"I said pick it up!"
The sudden shout caused Will to jump, dropping the walky-talky. He quickly picked it back up, along with the knife. "I-I pi-picked it up."
"Good. Now, do you know what I want you to do with the knife?"
"You want-want me to kill someone."
"I see good Hannibal has told you then."
"Yes. Why?"
"Why what?" asked Jim. He knew exactly what Will was asking but he liked listening to him squirm.
"Why do you want me to do this? To kill someone?"
"Because you are simply bursting with wonderful ideas. Little techniques that, if you took the time, could be used against anyone of your choice. There's darkness in you Will and yet you keep hiding it. I'm simply trying to open you up to it. A little quicker than Hannibal would prefer but nonetheless—"
"What did you just say?"
"Do not interrupt me!"
Despite Jim's enraged yell, Will was actually able to ignore it and yelled back. "What did you just say?! About Hannibal? What was it?!"
"Just that his goal is the same as mine," spit out Jim. "Yes I know you don't believe me, but he's been cultivating your darkness for quite some time."
"That's not true."
Jim rolled his eyes, not that Will could see that, and muttered, "Shut up and actually see for once. You really think a man like Hannibal Lecter would honestly be so friendly with you because he has fun chatting with you about your problems and your dogs?"
"He still wouldn't do it. He's a good man."
"A good man! My god, I know I said I wouldn't tell you this but you're so blind that I just have to. Hannibal is nothing like you are thinking. He's a complete monster. Just like me and hopefully after this little exercise you'll realize that you're one too."
Will was breathing heavier now, still not wanting to believe Moriarty. He needed to change the subject. "How do you even think you'll force me to kill? I could just runaway."
Jim nearly laughed at Will's pitiful attempt to change the subject but he actually went along with it. "I have men stationed all around the forest. Whoever you come across, kill them. If you don't kill them, then they'll kill you. Sadly, that's more defense than simple murder so I'd prefer it if you killed them before you had a good reason to."
"Why would your men simply lay down their lives to be killed for nothing? Why?"
This time Moriarty did laugh. "Why do you think I keep a tiger by my side? Everyone else that works for me are simply dogs. Nothing more. A tiger is loyal beyond belief but if the ship is sinking then he'll jump off. A dog will stay if you tell it to, even when the water starts to rise. Good luck Will. I'll be with you every step of the way."
"So you're watching me right now?" questioned Will. There wasn't an answer. "Hello? Hello?"
Taking a shaky breath, Will looked around him, at the unmoving branches and the dark undergrowth. He felt utterly alone at that moment, no matter what Jim said. He had no food, no water. If someone didn't find him he would die.
Unless if he ate a body after killing it.
Will fell against a tree, just barely able to catch him. His breath caught in his throat, finding it hard to believe that the thought had come from his own head. Even if he was dying, Will was sure he'd never be able to actually eat someone.
Or so he thought. His mind seemed to be telling him otherwise. He started when Moriarty's voice sounded again.
"You alright there Will? You don't seem to be doing very much."
Will ignored him. He didn't want to talk to Moriarty and keeping the walky-talky only allowed the man to poison Will's mind further. Nevertheless, if he threw it away, that would be his last connection to the outside world and then he'd really be alone. He felt sick, just thinking it, but he'd rather have a mad man's company than simply his own.
He began to move once more. Where Will thought he was going he didn't have a clue. He just had to keep moving. That was it. The entire day it seemed like he hadn't moved though. Will had heard a single animal and for all he knew he could've been walking in circles. Everything looked the same. Nothing to suggest that he was actually making progress.
It was getting dark and there wasn't anything that would help keep Will warm through the night. He shivered, still walking when he suddenly saw a light. He remembered what Moriarty had said, about his men being like dogs. Maybe Will would get lucky though. Maybe this one was different and wouldn't try to kill Will without a single thought.
Cautiously, Will moved forward. As he came closer, he saw a fire burning and one man sitting by it, warming his hands. He couldn't see any weapons in the man's hands but he couldn't be sure. It was dark.
Will kept walking towards him and softly cleared his throat. There wasn't any reaction. Will did it again, trying to get the man's attention without being to obvious. Finally he just said, "Please I just—"
But Will didn't get to finish his sentence as he was rushed at. Will quickly moved to the side, the man missing him with a swing. Something glinted in his hands it was obvious that it was a knife as well.
Will's heart beat rapidly in his chest as he dodged and tried to gain his footing on the wet leaves. The man came at him again and they both fell to the forested floor. Will didn't waste his time yelling for help; it was doubtful anyone would hear.
As they struggled, Will thought of running for it but even if he could, this man was clearly stronger and would easily be able to catch up with Will.
He tried to get a better grip on his own knife, tried to situate it so that it would drive into the man's stomach. It was knocked from his hands however and soon the other knife was coming at Will's face. He caught his arm, trying to keep it from going any lower but it was hard. The knife began to prick Will's cheek, a bead of blood welling up.
Finally he kicked at him and the man loosened his grip enough for Will to grab at the knife's handle and pry the man's fingers away. He kicked again and the man fell backwards, immediately getting up again only to go right into the knife in Will's hands.
Will thought it was over. He thought the man was done but he was so very wrong. From what he could see in the little light, the man was bleeding badly from the stomach wound and yet he began to move forward again despite it.
This time, Will trusted forward, actually hitting him. It took to more cuts before the man fell, still alive but to weak to get up. His breath coming in and out rapidly, blood came to the man's lips, blocking the passage of air.
Will panicked. He tried to kneel next to the man and try to stop the bleeding but he only struggled, trying to hurt Will. He was like an animal, utterly primal.
Backing away, the bloody knife still in his hands, Will sat by the fire, not sure what to do or think. He'd killed before, Garret Jacob Hobbs being a prime example, but he'd never killed with a knife. He realized probably the biggest reason guns were so popular was because it made you feel like you hadn't actually done the killing.
A knife didn't give you that pleasure. It got you up close and personal, allowing you to watch and feel the life leave your victim.
Victim. Was that what this man was to Will? He couldn't tell anymore.
"I'd clean your knife now. Wouldn't want it to rust now would we?" Moriarty then said, his voice coming through the walk-talky which had been miraculously unscathed from the fight. Moriarty watched on hidden cameras throughout the forest at the GPA tracking system that he was using to see Will.
Wordlessly, his face still frozen in shock, Will wiped the blade onto his shirt. Beside him, the fire flickered and the man's last breath escaped his lips.