Due to my recent foolishness and now self imposed isolation for those I love, the one person I don't want in my mind is there, always lurking like a ghost ready to haunt me; the foul spectre of Sebastian Moran.
Part 1 -Spying and Thieving
The young woman in the green coat, with a bright red flower adorning the lapel and dark green leather satchel across her body, walked through the streets of South Kensington, London allowing her senses to just accept what was going on around her, not analyse, decode, and find those little hidden messages. Walking past the Natural History Museum and Science Museum, glancing across at the Victoria and Albert Museum and on past Imperial College. The sun was shining and it made her smile, the blue sky and white fluff cloud passing by, she felt content. She turned the corner and to her left was the Royal Albert Hall and she crossed the road. Narrowly avoiding death by a double-decker, she made it safely into Hyde Park. As the adrenaline faded, she walked up to the massive and rather spectacular Albert memorial and stopped. Letting her body soak in the last of the autumn warmth.
The woman was tall, but not too tall, about five foot nine. She had curves in all the right places, but wasn't skinny. Her long plum coloured hair hung to her waist, hair half pulled back, and straggly whisps of fringe framing her face. She had dark eyebrows, natural and not overly sculptured. She had the kind of eyes that changed like the sea, sometimes clear blue and bright or a stormy grey and green when the air was tinged with sadness. Her nose rounded but in proportion to her face. Three piercings graced each ear that pleased her, a little daring, but never too much. Around her neck hung a silver necklace; a heart shaped locket. Looking down her arms to her hands, she wore numerous rings. In particular was a moonstone and silver adornment on her left hand. She hadn't taken it off since it had been put there, even if he no longer wanted her.
Under the coat was a purple scarf. She also wore a red-cropped cardigan over a black lacy vest top with dark wash jeans and her stripy, pirate embellished converse. Relaxed, but practical and pretty, the low neckline and a touch of lace, seductive but tasteful. Ever ready to face whatever life threw at her, the sense of thrill and adventure snaked through her however hard she tried to quash it. Now she channelled all the excess energy into her artwork and singing, but it was becoming boring, she missed the thrill of the chase and the wonderful feeling of euphoria that would wash over her as she did something exciting or dangerous, especially when she was with…but that was another life, long gone. Still, she thought, at least I am not alone anymore.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn't hear the tall sandy haired man stop next to me. He was well dressed, official looking, a man who had position, power and purpose.
"Enjoying the scenery?" Asked the man. Realising whom it was stood next to me had to repress the unstoppable full body shudder and stop disgust marring my face.
"I was, but now it's become a little to crowded for my tastes." I replied, trying not to be too vicious.
"Now, now Percy, is that anyway to treat and old friend, nigh on family member?" Said the man.
"Yes it is, especially when said person is one of the reasons for ruining everything that made a person happy."
"Don't be so melodramatic Percy, it's most unbecoming." Barked back Mycroft.
"What do you want Mycroft? Is this little meeting purely social or are you stalking me now? Do you want something?" I said scathingly, I still hadn't forgiven Mycroft for bugging my flat and having my friends followed and scaring the life out of my boyfriend, who subsequently broke up with me.
"I need you to make contact with someone for me, introduce yourself to them, get as close as possible and tell me everything you find out. Would that be too difficult?" After a short pause of silence he added, "Of course I will pay handsomely." Mycroft drawled out, a small, but wicked smile gracing his face, knowing that money would reel her in.
"I don't want or need your money Mycroft. So you want me to spy for you, I never knew you cared so much. Am I now an unofficial member of your not so secret service? Shall I mention it to Mum and Dad?" A thrill washed though me, some excitement at last! I can finally use my quirky talent and not get into trouble. I tried to keep me face as neutral as possible. It's not wise to let an emotion slip when around a Holmes.
"Will you do it or not?" Impatience leaking into Mycroft's voice.
"Who is it?" She asked, petulantly.
"A man, called Sebastian Moran, ex army. I'm sure you won't have problems, knowing how…personable you can be. I'll be in contact soon." With that dismissal Mycroft turned and left. All she'd wanted was a quiet walk, but when Mycroft wanted something he'd keep barking till he got what he wanted. Sebastian Moran, that name rang a bell. I'm sure Dad and John had mentioned something about him before. After only 10 minutes my phone chirped at me. I pulled the device out of my pocket and read the text:
The source is at your college. Do try to be careful Persephone; don't do anything rash. Mycroft Holmes.
Will do, I'll get started tomorrow night, there is an open exhibition. X
I replied to Mycroft, secretly thrilled, I knew in a round about way, this was Mycroft's way of apologising. My phone chirped again.
Dare of the week: Find a human skull. Bring to the Pub at 7:30pm.
The text made me smile. This was going to be too easy. She looked at her watch, she had and hour, time to get to work she thought. She walked back onto Kensington road; and she hailed a taxi. One stopped after a couple of minutes, she'd never really had the knack of stopping a taxi immediately. She hopped in the back.
"Where to love?" Asked the cabby.
"Bart's hospital please." With that, she was on her way, excitement already bubbling inside her.
Part 2 – Taken
I had only been at college for two weeks when I met Sebastian Moran: tall, dark and handsome. He could charm a tiger out of its stripes. I got to know him and we became friends, it slowly became harder to take the information I'd learnt back to Mycroft. I didn't understand why I was spying on him, but I wanted it to stop. Mycroft was disappointed that I had let sentiment win, he kept telling me it was a weakness and would get me into trouble.
It was the middle of my first term at college and there was a reading week exhibition at the college. Seb was actually surprisingly knowledgeable about art and had promised to come to the exhibition. The day before the exhibition, he sent me a message asking if he could bring along a friend. I said of course. At the time if I'd known I was to be meeting the man I would fall in love with and one day marry, I think I'd have made more of an effort. That day I was wearing a black and white stripy t-shirt with a long black cardigan over my black skinny jeans and my purple converse. As I had been in the studio all day, I hadn't been dressed in anything fancy.
The exhibition was a casual affair, some free beer and wine and a few snacks dotted around, it was more of a chance to start showing our work. Everyone was headed to the pub after the exhibition. The exhibition started at seven and Seb turned up with is friend in tow at half past, as did various other members of the public.
"Hey, how's my girl doing?" Greeted Seb.
"Hello Seb, I'm good thanks, you?" I asked.
"You know, never a dull day. Percy, can I introduce to you James Moriarty."
"A pleasure to meet you, Persephone Richter, but please call me Percy."
"The pleasure is all mine Percy." I was instantly attracted to him, he was about three inches taller that me, dark brown eyes and dark hair. He wore Slim fitting dark grey jeans and white shirt and a gorgeous suit jacket. When he spoke, that Irish accent made my heart skip a beat. I actually blushed as we made eye contact.
The evening progressed well, Jim and I both loving similar books, movies and music kept the conversation flowing easily. I never believed that you could have love at first sight until the day I met James Moriarty. He made me laugh so easily and had a wicked sense of humour, especially when I blurted out some rather obscene comments before I engaged my brain. Speaking to him I realised he was so clever, his intelligence was amazing, it was a huge turn on too. Stood before me was a clever, gorgeous, well-dressed, culturally informed man who too seemed as interested in me as I was in him. I think I had died and gone to heaven. At the end of the night we exchanged numbers, and even before I had got home I had a text telling me he missed me already. I couldn't help but grin like a fool. I knew I was smitten. The 10th of October remained a special day for us forever more.
Over the following weeks, Jim and I got closer and closer, we went on our first official date on 31st of October 2005. A long walk through London, which resulted in us both joining a zombie walk through the city. That night was the first night we made out relationship official, I stayed with Jim for three days, neither of us wanting to be parted.
Jim and I met up with Seb in Battersea Park for Bonfire Night and we told Seb about us getting together, to the average passerby he seemed unphased, but I knew differently. I couldn't work out if he was jealous or angry, maybe both. Jim noticed his reaction too and kept between Seb and I all night.
This is where my memory isn't as intact as I'd like it to be. It started with a phone call. Seb phoned asking me to come over for lunch, he wanted to talk about Jim and I. I got on the train up to Highgate and walked up the hill past the cemetery to Seb's house. I got to his house and saw the front door open and some of the downstairs windows trashed. Cautiously I pushed the door opened and walked into the house.
"Seb, sweetie, you home?" I called, hoping he'd be home. I walked a little further into the house, trying the light switches; this should've been my clue to leave, when I found that they didn't work. Something didn't feel right, but I kept exploring, hoping I'd find something. I used my phone to light my way, as I tried to dodge broken furniture I made my way to the kitchen, I found Seb unconscious on the floor, as I bent down to check him…after this my memory become very patchy. I think I was hit over the head with some blunt instrument.
I woke up in an entirely different place, it was dark and cold, I tried to get my eyes to focus but I felt so woozy, I could feel the tightness of a blood that had clotted on my neck. I tired to move my arm and found it restrained above my head. I had manacles on. I knew I was sat down, but my legs wouldn't work. I was so confused; my brain felt like a badly tuned radio, I kept coming in and out of clarity. Voices echoing. After what could have been an hour and three days the light changed, overly bright fluorescents flickered and hummed into life, my eyes stung and I couldn't protect them. Icy cold water was thrown over me and the world came into sharp focus and my lung constricted for air. I saw blond man walk towards me, pulling a metal chair against the concrete floor, the sound so jarring I thought my ears would bleed. He sat in front of me and stared not saying anything I stared back. I was trying so hard to understand the man in front of me, read all his little secrets, but my brain just couldn't function. Eventually he spoke.
"Do you know why you're here?" I shook my head.
"Are you sure?" I nodded my head again.
"I will ask one more time, do you know why you are." Again I shook my head, so confused. The man suddenly stood up and slapped me hard across my check, splitting my lip.
"You have been a very bad girl, you've been a spoilt brat, dropping old toys when new ones come along. Now seeing as you like playing games so much I have one to play with you." The man pulled out a black revolver, opened the chamber, leaving only on bullet. "A game of chance, pick your colour, black for the lady." The blond man spun the chamber and shot just to the side of my legs, alternating left and right each time. When the bullet fired, he fired just close enough that I could feel the heat of the bullet, but it didn't hit me. He again abruptly stood up, dragged away the chair, threw the lights and I was left alone in the cold darkness, soaking wet.
This ritual was repeated more times than I can clearly remember, each time the bullet getting closer and closer to hitting me.
After a countless amount of time, the lights we returned and I instinctively flinched, awaiting the impact of the water, when it didn't come, I snapped my head up. The blond man came in with a phone and some keys. He unlocked the manacles that had been holding my arms, my body just crumpled into a heap. The man lifted me under my arms and dragged me and propped me up against a wall.
"Time to get Daddy to pay, then maybe, just maybe you'll be home safe." I rarely understood anything the man said; his jibes or innuendos, they were so random. He yelled at me when I stared at the phone helplessly.
"You will call Mycroft Holmes, you stupid bitch. Tell him to Warehouse 4, midnight." Mycroft's name jerked something in my mind, no, he wasn't the person to call, and I had to call him, my saviour in the dark.
"Hello?" Hearing his voice gave me strength to keep speaking.
"Mycroft…you need to pay and I can come home."
"Percy, is that you? Where are you? I've been so worried."
"The blond man says pay to warehouse 4, midnight."
"I'm coming for you love, just hold on a little longer." I felt at peace hearing his name, I slowly removed myself from reality. Retreated back into the house in my mind, a safe place filled with happy memories.
An unknown amount of time, I heard my name being called.
"Percy, love, come on look at me beautiful, let me see your green eyes." That voice, it was safe. I tried to move my head to look up.
"Come on, stay with me, I'm going to get you out of here." I felt my bindings being undone, slowly and carefully, gentle touches as not to hurt me. Arms were embracing me, holding me close. I was aware of a familiar smell, a comfort. I dragged my mind to wake up; I had to know it was him.
"J-J-Jim?" I chocked out, my voice raspy
"I'm here, I'm gonna take you home, you're going to be safe now." His tone reassuring, but worry was marring his beautiful face. He's appeared like and angel out of the darkness. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
"I've found her, I need some assistance." His tone changing, a hard edge, like he meant business. Jim picked me up bridal style, and carried me out of the dark cold room. I buried my face into his neck, wanting to block out the noise and light intruding on my senses.
Ahead of us I could hear men shouting, a fight breaking out. Then gun shots, every shot making me flinch violently. The blond man appearing and raised voices. Being put down and more guns being drawn. Watching my angel get shot, stopping the bullet hitting me, the blood soaking his shirt and seeping into mine. The dead wait of a body on top of mine.
Part 3 – The Aftermath
Again I have a blank part of my memories. I remember waking up at Mycroft's and being nursed back to some semblance of health. The nightmares, the dark, loud noises they all haunted me, nothing worse than going to see Jim in the intensive care ward, after having had major surgery to repair the bullet's damage. I couldn't sleep if I tried, every time I closed my eyes the fear and the pain and seeing Jim dead and lifeless.
I wanted to escape the world, run away and stop. My brain wouldn't stop deducing the world around me, searching out every tiny threat. I needed my brain to stop, my mind to switch off and send me into oblivion. My search for relief started with a quiet drink, something to numb the pain. One day I found a club called Dukes, I walked inside, I'd heard rumours, if you wanted to disappear, float away into the clouds, then Duke was the man to see. He was pricey, but quality. As I entered the bar, I saw a tall and skinny dark haired man, he was very pale. He had the shakes, he needed his next hit.
"Here, Sherlock, this should ease the brain a little."
"Thanks." A curt reply as he swept away.
"Now, how can I help you little lady?"
"I've heard you can help me escape, make it all go away?"
"That I can."
"Then help me, please. Make the monster go away."
I don't and can't remember this part of my life as clearly as I should. To sink this low again would probably kill me, I'm still surprised it didn't the first time. All I know is this is how I relearned to smile.
The only thing I could concentrate on is how comfortable I was. Warm and snuggled up in the softest bed I had ever had the pleasure of lying in. Sadly, consciousness clawed its way to the forefront of my mind and I started to wake up. Warmth, overwhelming sticky warmth; I threw the duvet off me and stretched until all my joints made an eerie yet satisfying clicking, slowly opened my eyes. The light was too bright and screaming blue murder my over sensitive eyes. I only opened my eyes again when my hands were firmly placed over my eyes.
Urgh! I moaned before hastily having to run to the bathroom and violently throwing up. Wow, that was wholly unpleasant. I turned the shower on and started to clean the bath. At least it was the bath and not the floor. I turned to the sink and I looked into the mirror. I looked at my reflection and managed to scare myself at what I saw staring back at me, I looked like an extra from a zombie movie. There was vomit around my mouth and down my chin; my eyes were a sickly green colour and my hair was matted with dried blood, alcohol, and sick and was knotted beyond belief. I washed my face and wiped away the dried and crusty blood. I studied the rest of my appearance. My top was ripped and missing a strap and I had somehow lost my skirt, but still wearing my leggings. I was feeling very, very confused right about now. I then realised that I wasn't in my own dusty apartment; I was in a huge en-suite bathroom that could have been lifted from the pages of Home and Living Magazine! It was white and aqua, mosaic tiles and chrome fittings, it was simply stunning. I walked back into the bedroom and saw a huge black iron bed adorned with metal roses with the most beautiful golden bed linen. I turned and scanned the rest of the room; there was a wall of music and books; more than I could count. Journals stacked on a table, a wall made of glass and a desk covered in papers and random sheets of music. I spotted a man's shirt hanging on the end of the bed and put it on; at least this will cover the important bits I thought. The shirt was grey and white striped shirt, it fell to my knees.
I decided to go exploring and see if I knew who or how I ended in this luxurious house. I stepped as quietly as I could on the wooden floors, sticking to the rugs, I noticed there was mud up my legs, I was so very confused, and nothing made sense. I kept my breathing even and I descended the stairs, I was concentrating so hard on not tripping or making any noise that when I walked into the brick wall that turned out to be a body and graciously fell on my ass I simply stared and the world went black.
3 days later…
Slowly, I started to wake up, but I still felt like I was underwater. I hate being trapped inside my own head. This really must be the hangover from hell. What did I drink last night? It hasn't happened many times, but when it does it takes forever to release myself enough to calm down and regain consciousness. I could hear people around me, someone holding my hand, pleading with me to wake up and be ok. I really wanted to tell them to stop worrying and that I would reappear when I was good and ready. I could feel an aura around my mind keeping me safe. There was a woman's voice, bell like and light. She was comforting him. The harder I focused on the voices, the less control I had over my mind and I slipped further away from the light.
I'm still not sure what happened; apparently I overdosed on a cocktail of drugs and alcohol. All I was certain of was that for the first time in what felt like years I had stopped feeling the pain and loneliness, I could stop my mind working. No more fear and no more hiding, I'd been able to escape. When I woke up properly I found Mycroft sat by my bed, I'd never seen him so pale or stoic. The whole period in my life was a blur, but I really remember him telling me
"Persephone Elizabeth Richter, if you ever scare me like that again," a broken and awkward pause, "you're only eighteen, what happened to you? Do you need help?" The softness and compassion in his voice broke the dam. After that I remember crying, crying so much. For a while I stayed in the luxurious facility. I later found out it was a private rehabilitation unit for teenagers and young adults. Eventually I was allowed to go home with Mycroft, I managed to keep my parents uniformed of the incident. I eventually moved in with Mycroft in his London flat and started to see a therapist. That's when my life started to get better. That's when I started to be Percy again, not the scared girl who'd had her life stolen from her. I started drawing again and taking photos, I even started sewing again. Mycroft paid for me to go back to Art College and have my own flat, far enough away to be independent, but close enough if I needed him.
The incident that led to my rehabilitation has never left me. There are so many things that still terrify me and, although less frequently, I have nightmares about those men finding me again. Something wonderful that came of the whole experience was being rescued and returned home by the man I loved and eventually married, James Moriarty. He was so good to me, he helped me get back into the real world and become the girl I was before. I owe him my life so many times over.