They both waited, daring the other to make the first strike. Irene read Jim's face, trying to find anything. A hint even, just something. Jim twirled his knife. Irene rubbed her finger along the edge of hers. Stretching out her arm, Irene threw the knife at him, as quickly as flicking on a light. Jim barely moved in time. And he didn't. The knife cut along his upper arm and lodged itself into the wall.
"Crap." Irene smiled through gritted teeth and dodged as Jim instantly dismissed his wound and swung his blade at Irene's chest. She reached out her hand and grabbed his wrist, twisting it and throwing it out of the way. Jim stumbled against the bedpost. Irene raced to the wall and pulled out her knife. She spun around just as Jim threw his own knife, missing Irene again by millimetres. She pulled out the knife, now double armed and Jim with nothing. He grinned and bounced on his feet; ready for whatever Irene threw at him. She didn't. Irene knew if she threw one, Jim would move easily and be armed again. Instead, she tightened her grip and lunged, still holding and tried to stab Jim, who kept dodging and stepping back. He suddenly grabbed Irene's wrist and snapped it. Irene cried out and let go, biting her lip. Jim grinned as he held the knife again, and plunged it into Irene's stomach. She gasped and fell to her knees. The knife was still in there. As she was falling to the floor, Jim swung around and held her. He laid her against his knees. He brushed her hair and smiled.
"Dear me that looks bad." He frowned and grabbed Irene's hand that tried to pull it out. Her broken wrist lay useless at her side. "Don't move it. It looks beautiful in you."
Irene breathed heavily and groaned. "Get it out or I'll-"
"You'll what?" Jim laughed and bent his neck and stared at Irene. "Hm?" His questioned. Irene groaned again and gritted her teeth.
"This." Irene gripped her knife in her broken hand and stabbed it into Jim's back. He cried out and fell to the floor. His cardigan was already soaked.
"You... bitch." Irene laughed painfully.
"You should know...I never go down...without a fight." Jim smiled.
"Of course. But...what now?" Irene sat up painfully and crouched on her knees. She slowly stood and gasped, standing up in a very hunched position. She held the knife in her hand that was covered in blood.
"I finish the job." Jim looked up and smiled.
"Oh, I won't be dying today." Irene titled her head.
"What makes you so sure?"
Jim laughed. "This." Jim gritted his teeth and stretched out his legs and knocked Irene over, where she landed on her back. Jim slowly stood up and stumbled a little, which allowed Irene to get back on her feet.
He pulled the knife out of his back at an odd angle, which made the cut longer. He swore and gasped. Irene wobbled a bit and gripped the blade, pulling it out as well. Blood poured out, soaking her top. "Damn it... I liked this shirt." Jim laughed and also wobbled. He shuffled his feet and dangled the knife at his side. He rolled it in his hand. Irene did this same. They both raced at each other, both striking hits. Irene got him in the thigh; Jim got her in the shoulder. They both cried out and collapsed. Jim crawled over Irene and pulled out his knife, holding high above his head. His eyes were full of rage and...excitement? Irene looked harder. There it was, excitement. She lowered he eyes to his crotch, and a bulge was seen. She raised an eyebrow.
"Calm down, Jimmy." He titled his head. Irene pulled the knife from her shoulder and pressed the tip lightly to Jim's crotch. He lowered his knife a tiny bit.
"Oh." He murmured.
Irene smiled. "Now get off me or I turn you Jewish." Jim stared at Irene and smiled, rolling off her and lied down on the floor. Irene sat up and threw herself on him, a hand on the wound on his thigh. She worked her fingers through the cut on the jeans and shoved them into the wound. Jim snarled at Irene and swung his knife at her, but she caught it and grabbed it, throwing it out of reach. She looked intensely into his eyes and ripped apart his flesh. Jim gritted his teeth and refused too.
"Scream Jim! Scream! And beg me to stop just like you did to me!" Her eyes weren't human, only madness was present. He tried to get up but Irene placed her arm on his throat. She leaned down and pressed her nose to his. "Scream." Jim opened his mouth and screamed, but was almost immediately silenced by Irene forcing her lips on his. She was ferocious and rough, grabbing his face and digging her nails in. Jim worked his hand up and locked it around Irene's throat. He tightened it and pulled Irene away. She grabbed his hand and looked down at it, eyes still ablaze and a mix of snarl and smile on her face. Jim managed a sly smile. She leaned down again and kissed Jim, slowly but still hard. Jim murmured something, but it was vague and Irene dismissed it. She ran her finger through his messy hair, grabbing a chunk and pulling it.
"Now, now my dear." Jim murmured. "Let's not get too rough."
Irene smiled. "Why? Can't handle it?" Jim frowned.
"No. I don't think you can." Jim stretched as far as he could and grabbed the knife, pulling a bunch of Irene's hair, cutting it in a single slice. Irene pulled away and felt the spot were he cut.
"What...?" She narrowed her eyebrows. Jim's closed his eyes and put it to his nose.
"Vanilla." He opened them again, his Cheshire cat smile reappearing. "Did you know that when I kill you, Irene sweetheart, I am going to turn you into candles?" Jim laughed manically.
Irene knew it was time to leave. She stumbled and retreated, but Jim wouldn't hear of it. He snatched her leg, pulling her back.
"Oh no! Where do you think you are going?"
Irene grabbed onto the foot of the bed. Jim laughed and stabbed her leg, making her let go and cry out. Irene kicked her legs, one of them right into Jim's left eye. He shrieked and released her.
"IRENE. I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"
She looked back. His eye socket was bloody; she could only see the other. It was enough to terrify her. He was going to kill her, Irene knew it. Nothing stopped him. Irene was wounded and weak. Jim stumbled clumsily on top of Irene again and drew a long thin line down her back. Irene cried out and rolled over, knocking Jim in the process. She crawled over to the door, kicking him whenever he was in reach. She pushed herself through the hallway to the lift. Just to the lift, only to the lift, she chanted in her head. Come on! Irene made it. With one last ounce of strength, she hit the lobby floor button. She collapsed. The doors closed just in time as Jim burst into the hallway. Irene saw him though. Murderous, terrifying, revengeful and gory, Moriarty looked like the devil, his one eye gleaming in wrath.
"Irene."