Chapter 18
Flashback: Moriarty
Page Santos waved Sherlock goodbye and turned- she trotted down to the end of Baker Street. She could feel his gaze, lingering behind her as she went, as soon as she turned the corner she felt free from his slightly un-nerving gaze after her. Did he care? She thought to herself. Why else would he watch her leave the street? No, this is stupid; she thought to herself, he's just admitted he wasn't interested. Uh, that word "interested" sounded so vile. Right, she thought setting her mind to the task she was about to perform, retrieving coffee from the nearest convenience store. Turning the next corner, she felt a hand grab hers and she was instantly pulled into a dark alleyway. A hand was thrown over her mouth to prevent her from screaming. Page's eyes darted around just as fast as her hear beat as she looked around herself and trying to look at the person who'd just snatched her off the street so silently.
"Come on missy, I think it's time you finally do some work around here." His voice was gruff and heavy. Page shut her eyes tight and loosened up, there was really nothing she could do but allow him to take her away.
She was dragged and thrown into the back of a large blacked out-windowed limousine looking car- the door was slammed behind her and her heart raced as she tossed herself towards the front of the car-demanding to take a look at the driver. She knew this car, to well. It was the same car that had taken her to her boss's office so many times. And then she smelt it, a strong smell- like bleach tickled her nose and then the smoke filled the back of the car and her mind went blank and her eyes shut. Her senses faded and then...nothing.
"Hi Page!" A familiar Irish voice pounded at her as her eyes flickered open. She was sat, tide to a chair facing a desk, which Mr Mason sat at. The room was barley lit and the windows blacked out. It was cold and Page could barely see. She'd only just awoken since she was drugged and her mind was still a little hazy from the "experience." "Have you enjoyed spending time with Sherlock?" He giggled and flashed a warm smile at her, though Page saw straight through it. She could see the madness in his face and in his eyes. He was almost serpent like; he'd never looked like this before.
"Mr Mason?" She breathed out finally, in confusion.
"Wrooong!" He let the word drag on in a high-pitched voice, Page blinked a few times, trying to recover from the drug. There was a sudden flash on confusion on her face and Mr Mason only smiled. "I think you'll find that I'm actually Jim Moriarty...hi!" He added with a vemoness grin, which Page found repulsive. "Now then, lets get down to business, you see. I want Sherlock Holmes." He grinned at the expression on Page's face. "Not just Sherlock Holmes, I want Sherlock Holmes...dead." He chuckled and rose from his seat and tossed a gun at Page from out of his blazer pocket. Page stared at it and gulped a little before looking back up at Moriarty who was now circling around her with his hands in his pockets.
"What's that for?" Page spat.
"That is what will kill Sherlock Holmes. Let me rephrase that, it's what you will use to kill Sherlock Holmes." He emphasized on the word "you" and let out a bitter laugh. Page's heart sank and she began to panic as her eyes became glued to the gun.
"There was no magazine, no job...I was just used the whole time!" Page stared at Moriarty for a second. "Oh God..." She whispered to herself staring down at the gun in which she'd just been given to end the life of Sherlock Holmes with.
"Cleaver, cleaver, cleaver...NOT!" Moriarty yelled making her jump and sit up straight. "It took you a while to work that one out. Kill Sherlock Holmes or the next dead body will be yours...you have half an hour from when you're feet touch 221B Baker Street. I'll be watching..."