The feeling of nails scratching down her cheeks was the first thing she remembered after the gun hadn't fired. Her flesh was being peeled back by fingernails, the stinging sensation making her yell out. Then, it was hands around her throat. Her heart fell into her stomach as the chair began to fall, her body leaning backwards with it. As it hit the ground, it collapsed under both Moriarty's and her own weight. The wood crunched beneath the both of them. Large splinters had plunged into one of her thighs, eliciting a shriek from her. There was so much pain. So much adrenaline. While she attempted to escape from underneath his clutches, she realised throughout the chair breaking she had been freed somewhat by the rope. She could move both her arms and legs. Before she had a chance to act, pale hands wrapped themselves around her throat. Moriarty's thumbs pressed into her, crushing her windpipe. Rose couldn't comprehend the sounds she was making, terrible, struggling sounds.

Her hands frantically shot up, trying to grasp onto something tangible. She managed to grasp the neck of his dress shirt, tugging it down until the sound of buttons falling loudly on the floor. Moriarty's teeth were bared at her now in a snarl, his eyes were as frantic as her own. He was ready to kill her. She knew it for sure.

Rose moved one of her arms away from his shirt. She was becoming weak. His hands had pressed even harder down onto her windpipe. The entire room and Moriarty's face was becoming blurry. Ah! Her hand grasped onto something hard. It was one of the legs from the chair. Having no time to breathe in, she grasped it above Moriarty's head. It came down in a sickening crunch against the back of his head and immediately the pressure from his hands relieved itself. Air came rushing in as she gasped, coughing and spluttering. She was bleeding and bruised in various parts and barely had the energy to do much else but breathe. Rose felt herself fall backwards until her head hit the carpet, amazingly missing the broken pieces of the chair. Her head lulled to the side. Moriarty's body lay directly beside her, his arms and legs were sprawled out. His face was turned the opposite way but through the thick tandrils of black hair she could see blood oozing and drying. It clung to the strands. So he really was human after all. It was an odd sight, knowing how dangerous he was. He was still and silent.

Had she killed him? A wave of satisfaction motivated her to move. This was her chance, even if she wasn't dead. In a split second she forced herself onto her knees and grasped the edge of the table to hoist herself up. The pain that welcomed her from that action had her almost fall all over again. Her wrists were screaming and her neck was so sore it was difficult to move. Not this time. I'm going to escape this.

Her legs bolted faster than they ever had, she had no idea where she was going. As Rose was met with the sight of the kitchen, she turned left, down a long hallway. There were no lights on but she could see a faint light glow at the end of it. There was only one way to find out. Her heart was pumping and the extra adrenaline made it easy. Almost there. As she ran into the light, she realised her mistake. Moriarty wasn't the only one in the apartment. Another lounge room. One as devoid of character as the other, except for the blonde figure standing above a pile off papers and blueprints. It was too late. Her shoes had made too much noise. Sebastian's face turned towards her. Blue eyes were wide in surprise but she could tell he was tired. His large forearms were crossed over each other in front of his chest. As he glanced at her injuries and her frantic stare, he swore.

"Please, just let me go. That all I, all I want." Rose was barely able to form a sentence.

Legs feeling like they had sandbags tied to them, she collapsed on the hard marble tiles. Her vision was becoming blurry again and everything was numb, the pain she had felt moments ago was gone. Footsteps coming towards her set her heart into a panic yet she was unable to move.

"Jesus."

Sebastian Moran had been faced with difficult situations in his lifetime. Murders, arrest. Nothing prepared him for this. How had a random girl off the street been able to clock one on Moriarty's head? The sight before him was almost amusing. Why did Jim even attack her? It wasn't like him to get his precious hands dirty. Jim had been knocked out cold by the leg of the chair. Jim had been knocked out by someone he would call "ordinary". It had Sebastian chuckling. She'd done a number on him too. Blood had matted Moriarty's hair and he was almost certain there'd be a rather large bump on his scalp. The kid was in for it, though.

Cold. It was cold when Rose awoke. Goosebumps had travelled down her skin. Then the pain. Every inch of her body ached in ways she didn't know were possible. The room she was in was so dark it was difficult to see much. Odd scents empowered her smell, a mixture of copper and something stale. The walls were grey, she could tell that much. The second thin she noticed was that she was unable to move. Glancing down, she saw her forearms were held securely in place with metal cuffs and she was sitting on a chair. Wriggling, she found it didn't move an inch and her legs were also cuffed to the legs. God, why? Inhaling deeply caused her to splutter out saliva. Rose's face contorted into a look of disgust, a comical grimace forming on her face. Yuck. Why was the taste of salt on her tongue? The flavour of it danced in her mouth. The grimace she had made elicited an odd sound that came from in front of her, somewhere in the darkness. . The sound was akin to the sound of a lion growling lowly. The echo of it within the room made it sound even more sinister. It had Rose freeze, her heart stopping just a little. Everything was so dark, shadows were bleeding into each other. Rose's eyes were squinted now, searching for some kind of source for the sound.

The events from the fight with Moriarty replayed themselves within her mind. It was too much wishful thinking to hope he was dead. Sebastian, no doubt, would have been the faithful one that put her in whatever room she was in. Rose cursed herself. The escape had been so close. Memories flooded her brain of Moriarty's terrifying face while he snarled and attempted to take her life away with his hands. Stephen King couldn't have written a more sinister scene.

Her heart was pounding. Where was he? She continued to peer out into the darkness, searching for the sadistic man. He was trying to scare her and he was succeeding. Something about not knowing his position made it all the more worse.

It was another game.

The fingers that suddenly brushed briefly against the back of her neck caused her to jump uo as far as possible given the cuffs around her arms. The edges of them dug into her arm. More goosebumps appeared across her skin, like a spider had ran across her back. Her heart was thudding against her chest and it was begging to escape. She was well aware her breathing was laboured, forced. When she felt his cheekbones against her own she whimpered, the odd feeling of cool flesh against flesh was unnerving. His face was pressed right up against hers, the same way she pressed her face to glass when she was a child.

"Apparently not many apartments have torture chambers.." The Irish voice had her on edge. The word 'torture' was emphasised due to his accent. His face turned slightly inward so his breath travelled across her face.

Rose could feel against her temple each time he moved his lips to speak. His cheeks grew more pressure against her own as he smiled. She couldn't see him, not really. His face was simply a flash of pale flesh that she could only see from the corner of her eye. It annoyed her that she was so frightened whereas his voice indicated that he was calm, almost bored.

In one moment he was pressed up against her face and in the next, he was a few feet away from her, he shifted his weight to one foot. Rose felt a surge of satisfaction throughout her body as she looked at his face, he looked tired. Good. Circles beneath his eyes made him appear much older than he had looked before. Moriarty didn't look as well presented as he had. He was looking around the room, a quite bored and uninterested look appearing on his face. A grimace had settled there. For some reason he was nodding to himself, perhaps agreeing with his next statement? His eyes, barely visible in the light, flickered to her own.

"I just think that's bad real estate." Moriarty shrugged carelessly, placing both hands in his pocket, rocking his legs back and forth.

It was then that Rose noticed the pale thing in his hand. It was a small case, a quite expensive looking one. Leather, maybe. This was Moriarty, she figured he wasn't just holding it as a fashion accessory- then again.. No. There was a reason he was holding it with her in the room. What was it? A set of knives? Some kind of serial killer device? It held something important in the situation.

"Good. You're smart for an ordinary. Though, there's nothing worse than a smart ordinary. So much wasted potential." The tone of his voice was somewhat disappointed and he used his hand to emphasise 'potential'. Rose didn't fail to notice that he was fixing his eyes over her figure as well as her face, a look of disdain across his own.

Rage like fire was burning in her blood. It was practically boiling at the surface. Her face heated up involuntarily and she wanted to call him every name under the sun. She didn't, though. Rose had a feeling she wouldn't survive it. Besides, it was another challenge. Rose could tell by the way he was studying her with a grin, practically waiting for the moment he could subtly boast about winning. The salty taste in her mouth was becoming irritating, it was so insistent against her tongue that it was difficult to swallow.

"This is your file. It took a long, long time for them to get it to me. It might be a little specked with blood. Moran wasn't as clean as usual."

Clean. There was nothing about a murder that was clean, was there? Oddly, Rose didn't feel any remorse at the fact someone died over giving the file to Moriarty. Rose was much more interested in the file itself. Was it her health record? Opening her mouth, she ran her tongue against the back of her mouth in an attempt to get rid of taste of salt.

"File, of what?"

"Everything. Anything. It could have your first pet, your biggest tragedy, and maybe even the first time you had a little play between the sheets." Moriarty's eyebrows shot up as he said this, a look of anticipation on his face.

What the actual fuck? Her first thought was how could anyone obtain a file like that and then she remembered who he was, what he did. If he had someone murdered for the simple reason of taking too long to deliver a file, obtaining it would be easy for someone like him. Not to mention, he could always pay them off. Why was he doing this, though? She already knew her life story, at least most of it.

Moriarty stared down at the folder, licking his lips as if it were a slice of cake he was about to devour. Agonisingly slowly, he began to unzip it. The sound was shrill against the walls of the room. Out before him, a thick paper booklet was in his hands, the folder was dropped to the ground. That was odd. Given his obvious love for expensive things, why would he drop it? The sheets of paper had her on the edge of her seat as he flicked them open, he ran his thumb across his bottom lip.

"Rose Claudia Lare. Age twenty-three, so young. Single. Parents, Tom Lare and Lydia Lare deceased. Oo, sorry." Moriarty had conjured an over-dramatic grimace on his face, his pale hand going to his "heart".

Rose was not bothered, though. Her parents had been less than suitable. Truth was, she had welcomed the idea of both of them dying when they had. . This bothered Moriarty, he's said it to get a kick out of her and she was more than happy in not reacting. The sound of paper being aggressively flipped through interrupted her thoughts. Moriarty's face was one of accusation now, looking at her.

"Who did you have clear it?" Soft and quiet, a mere mumble from the deranged man. It had Rose wondering If he was speaking to himself. Moriarty faced down towards the papers, an angry gleam in his eyes.

The helplessness of Rose's next situiation was almost comical. Moriarty moved as quick as a fox, the papers fell in tumbles of elegant white. Soon, he was hidden in the shadows again. What was this, batman? Then, she heard the sound of something scraping and the slosh of a liquid. Perhaps it was water? No. As Moriarty came into view again, she saw his hands had gripped a rectangular plastic container. It was blue in colour. The steady pace of his shoes clicking against the hard wooden floor made the wait even more agonising. Again, the way he moved was terrifying. His face displayed no emotion once more. His thin lips were set into a natural pout and his eyes had become dead, emphasised by the dark creases beneath them. As he got closer the scent of salt water overpowered her.

In one quick tip of the container, the contents of the bucket washed over her arms – in particular (Moriarty's tactic) her lacerated wrists.

"AHHHHHH!" There was a shrill and ear-splitting shriek.

Rose bit so hard down onto her bottom lip that it began to bleed into her mouth, , leaking the flavour of copper. The sour liquid burned her wrists, her body contorted itself in different ways, the pain nothing arms attempted instinctively to break free from the cuffs, to let her hands rub at her wrists. The lacerations on her wrists were so deep that she could practically feel each piece of salt moving against the exposed flesh. The cool air did nothing but make the stinging from the liquid even more prominent. Tears fell naturally from her eyes now, sliding down her neck as warm droplets against her exposed skin. The stinging was only getting worse and it was then that she recalled the salty taste in her mouth from moments ago, now replaced with copper. .Asshole.

''Oops.''

Rose looked up with both her green and blue eye, ignoring the blurry vision. The disgust and murderous rage that had encompassed her was evident on her face, if looks could kill Jim Moriarty would be a dead man.

Jim Moriarty had always been impartial to the essence of physical 'beauty'. Of course, conventional physical beauty had been explored by him in many ways over the years. Yet, there were no persons nor scenes that could come remotely come close to the beautiful one before him. The blonde girl's face was covered In claw marks- his claw marks, dried blood drenched on her face. The sheer look of animosity in her unique eyes had him on the edge. This murderous rage on a delicate-looking person, this was beauty.

Rose watched him. The look that had possessed his face was one of…glee? She couldn't be sure. Moriarty wasn't smiling. He wasn't moving. He was simply and utterly staring at her. Then, he was crouching before her. Moriarty was doing this to intimidate her, Rose was sure of it. Once again, his face had become too close for comfort. Despite the fact that he wasn't overly tall or built with muscles like Sebastian, his presence overshadowed her (she guessed everyone) every time. It casted an evil atmosphere. He was so close that she could see his pores and she could almost dissect his pupils from his iris's. Her heart thudded against her body, begging to escape. Rose was well aware of the sweat that beaded down her forehead.

"Say thank-you." The words spoken were so quiet that Rose did a double take.

Of course, he meant it. His eyes were staring into her own, waiting for the words. His face lacked in expression or emotion. Even though he was now below her, it felt as if he were too high to reach. He began to hunch his back, his face going forward. It wasn't human, not really. His eyes were devoid of anything. He leered at her. It lasted a few seconds, as if it were a transformation, then he was back to simply staring at her.

"Say thank-you. I just cleaned your wounds. I don't wanna risk infection, y'know, too much hassle." The Irish drawl was calm and Moriarty's thin lips contorted themselves into a disgusted grimace. He spoke as if what he'd just said was normal.

Cleaned my wounds? He could go to Hell. He belonged there. Assessing the situation, Rose realised she had one body part that she could utilise at that moment. Her mouth. All her anger and disgust formed in the small amount of saliva she could muster and in one quick flick of her tongue, it landed on Moriarty's face. The satisfaction of watching the bubbling clear liquid land a splatter onto his forehead was akin to nothing she had ever felt before.

Moriarty was as still as ever while she waited for him to do something. Seconds passed, neither of them doing anything but breathing. The liquid remained on his forehead. Rose was expecting to die any moment now. Expecting his hands to come and grab at her throat until she no longer made any sound or put up a fight. This was the time to die. Moriarty could gleam all he wanted while he took her life away from her, nothing would be as satisfying to him as that ball of spit was to her. If she was going to die, let the last image of this psychotic man with her spit upon his face he her last sight. Rose would be proud of herself for it.

Then, Moriarty laughed. Or rather, he exhaled. It was a sound of astonishment. His dark eyes had become wide with wonder and curiosity. The dark orbs peered up at her as if he were a child looking at an adult he couldn't quite understand but wanted to. The way his lips had outstretched themselves into a small smile unnerved her. She could see the smile lines as he did it. The dark pupils of his eyes continuously searched her own, as if he were searching for something he knew was there but couldn't quite find. In a swift movement he brought a piece of cloth in front of his face, wiping away at the saliva. The cloth was blue with small pinstripes adorning it. A handkerchief? Really?

Moriarty tossed it away onto the floor beneath him and he suddenly rose from his place. He shoved his hands into his pockets, studying her once more. By now, her skin was practically bathed in nervous sweat. The cool air fought against her senses. Rose was all-too well aware of the fact that her body was shaking.

Rose saw indents on Moriarty's jaw as he chewed… gum? What was it with him and gum? It certainly didn't stop him from being psychotic. They both stared at each other like that. Moriarty was thinking, she could tell that much. His eyes continuously wondered over the room and across her in small flickering steps. Not once did he move nor speak. His hands still remained in his pockets.

"Boss, the plans are ready."

"Good, very good. ''

Bright light illuminated the room as a door was opened. It stung. The source of light briefly blinded Rose, she shut her eyes against it. When she re-opened them, she was thankful that it was now a warm glow due to Sebastian's large figure looming in the doorway. Unfortunately, that meant that Moriarty's face appeared all the more real. Even more of his pores were visible, the complexion of his skin less white as it were pale and even the material of his suit appeared in much more detail. Moriarty's long lashes casted a shadow down from the outer corner of his eyes. How could something so demented look like him? Rose still wasn't entirely convinced that the man wasn't being possessed by a demon.

Sebastian and Rose watched him as pulled something from his pocket, a pair of sunglasses. They looked very expensive. As he put them on, she saw how tinted the lenses were. It made him look even more soulless, if that were possible. Perhaps the most terrifying aspect about Jim Moriarty was that he looked inconceivably human. With glasses, he simply looked like another high-class businessman. Slowly, his mouth opened, revealing white gum across his tongue. While he exhaled, it became a large bubble until he quickly deflated it. His eyes never changed at all. How dramatic was he?

''Korea. Two days. Those cuffs will unlock themselves in fifteen minutes. You have access to the kitchen, lounge room and bathroom. Don't try and go any further, you'll regret it, kid.'' Sebastian's rough voice broke her gaze with Moriarty.

Unlock themselves? Sebastian was staring at her as if he'd just said they were about to go for a trip down to a local fish and chips shop. Moriarty regarded her for a moment before spinning on his feet and then walking towards the door. He suddenly whistled low and deep for a second, it was a haunting sound, one that was trying to rile her up. It echoed against the walls of the room still. Moriarty had pulled out his phone and he was avidly texting or typing, his thumbs practically giving themselves a workout. He had stopped in his tracks by the door and his face was turned downwards.

''Isn't lil' Sebby Sebastian, cute? I've told him so but he doesn't seem to like it.'' Moriarty didn't look up as he spoke the words. The last thing at that moment Rose was thinking about Sebastian was 'cute'.

Moriarty began to walk, the polished shoes clicking against the floor. With sudden courage and her heart leaping into her throat, Rose pushed it.

''What Korean are you assassinating?''

At first she thought he'd keep on walking. Or even have Sebastian knock her out for asking. The question created a thick layer of tension in the air. Rose was quite literally on the edge of her seat. When he looked up to gaze at her, she felt a lump in her throat. In a quick movement he brought his index finger to his mouth and licked it from the base to the middle, bringing it to a 'shh' gesture. His next words burned her ears.

''Curiosity killed the cat, you know...'' Moriarty glanced down at his phone again, seemingly distracted as he walked out of the room. The next sentence was half-yelled, half-spoken and yet it crept under her skin like no other. ''...And you don't have nine lives!".

Thank you so much for all the feedback! It is greatly appreciated and basically a motivation to continue! I'm definitely going to be focusing more so on ''calm' Moriarty being the most intimidating because,well, he is. The chapters will become darker as the fic progresses! There will be a lot more learnt about Rose as well. Thank you again and please review to keep me motivated! Thank you so much. Also; thoughts on The Final Problem? Thanks again!