"Everyone dies. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage." - Mycroft Holmes

Chapter Thirteen:

"Don't you love this movie?" Mortiarty purred in the woman's ear.

She let out a high giggle. "Stop teasing me! You know I love this movie! It's my favourite!"

"You know you're my favourite," he whispered softly to her. The woman giggled again and Leona had to make an effort not to vomit.

Leona knew that if she called out, or screamed, or anything along those lines, Mortiarty would kill her. At this point, Leona wanted to just so that he would. She was tired and sick of watching his life through the shutters of a closet. Her heart had been beating fast enough to make her chest hurt for hours. Every time Mortiarty walked past the closet she was in, she'd stiffen and wanted to vomit.

"Mm... I think the food should be ready," the woman finally says. "I should go pick it up."

Mortiarty gives a small huff, a bit upset, but disgustingly understanding. He sounded human --- almost nice. "I'll be back in ten minutes," she promised, and they made another sucking noise, before Leona heard her slowly walking away.

When the door shut, Leona heard Mortiarty stand. She began to tremble as he came to her and slowly opened the closet door. "How's my little pet doing?" Mortiarty smiled up at her coldly. "I hope you're hanging in there!" Leona bit her lip and closed her eyes. Mortiarty had chained her arms to the top of the closet, making her hang several feet above the ground for hours. At this point, Leona couldn't feel her wrists, or anything in her upper body.

Leona wiggled her legs, hoping to kick him in the face, but he had kept her from doing that too --- her legs were ducktaped together. Even if she could escape, she couldn't walk.

"Now, I know you're probably hungry, so I brought you a little treat!" He turned and left for a few minutes before returning later. He held a big bag of... Black small pebbles? He scooped a hand in and held it out to her. Leona blinked at him, confused. "Go ahead, eat." Leona shook her head --- which, coincidentally, made her entire body shake --- and she hit his outstretched hand, spilling the little pebbles everywhere.

Suddenly, Mortiarty was angry. He didn't like that she wasn't playing his game. He pulled a knife out and slowly --- painfully, dragged it down her hanging calf. Leona howled in pain, but due to the ducktape piled on her mouth, all she could make was strange hissing noises. She kept wiggling and trying to move, but Mortiarty wasn't moving.

Finally, after his third cut, he cleaned the knife off on her small paper-thin dress she still wore, and then closed the door.

Leona moaned, tears escaping her eyes. She wanted to go home.

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Leona's eyes were half-rimmed and she was nearly asleep when she heard a strange familiar voice.

"... The scoop that everybody wanted and you got it. Bravo!" Leona blinked, confused for a minute as she continued to listen.

"I gave you your opportunity," the same won an from earlier said. "I wanted to be on your side, remember? You turned me down, so..."

"And then, behold, someone turns up and spills all the beans," they continued. "How utterly convenient. Who is Brook?" There was a short pause and the man scoffed. "Oh, come on, Kitty. No-one trusts the voice at the end of a telephone." Again, nothing and Leona heard short footsteps in the same quick rhythm.

"There are all those furtive little meetings in cafés," he continued. "Those sessions in the hotel room where he gabbled into your dictaphone. How do you know that you can trust him? A man turns up with the Holy Grail in his pockets?" Suddenly his voice is serious, "What were his credentials?" The man demanded and in that moment, Leona recognized and gasped.

Leona as about to scream so that Sherlock could hear her, but as soon as she got herswlf ready for it, she heard a voice that made her stop as quickly as she wanted to start. "Darling, they didn't have any ground coffee so I just got normal..." Leona was still and quiet, but every inch of her being wanted to scream. Her lips trembled and tears welled up in get eyes. "You said that they wouldn't find me here. You said that I'd be safe here." Suddenly, Mortiarty sounded as scared as Leona was.

"You are safe, Richard," the woman, who Sherlock called, 'Kitty', said. "I'm a witness. He wouldn't harm you in front of witnesses."

"So that's your source?" A sob choked Leona's throat as soon as she heard John's voice. "Moriarty is Richard Brook?!"

"Of course he's Richard Brook," Kitty scoffed. "There is no Moriarty. There never has been."

"What are you talking about?" John demanded, now confused. Leona wiggled a little, making the clothes in the closet shift.

"Look him up. Rich Brook --- an actor Sherlock Holmes hired to be Moriarty," Kitty accused with a hiss.

There was a pause, before Mortiarty began talking again. "Doctor Watson, I know you're a good man." Suddenly, Mortiarty back into the side of the room, and Leona could see him just through the shutters over the door. He glanced at her and Leona sat his eyes narrow. She made a small whimper, but otherwise stayed silent.

"Don't... Don't hu... Don't hurt me!" Mortiarty cried pathetically.

"No, you are Mortiarty!" John snapped, his voice outraged. "He is Mortiarty! Don't you remember? You were going to blow me up!"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Mortiarty gasped, "He paid me. I needed the work. I'm an actor. I was out of work. I'm sorry, okay?"

Leona heard John breathing heavily, then he spoke to Sherlock, who had been silent this whole time. "Sherlock, you'd better... Explain... Because I am not getting this."

"Oh I'll ... I'll be doing the explaining - in print," Kitty said, snobbishly. "It's all here - conclusive proof." John was silent, so Kitty continued, "You invented James Moriarty, your nemesis."

"'Invented him'?" John repeated slowly.

"Mmm-hmm," Kitty affirmed. "Invented all the crimes, actually - and to cap it all, you made up a master villain."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" John scoffed.

"Ask him," Kitty demanded. "He's right here! Just ask him. Tell him, Richard."

"Look, for God's sake," John huffed furiously, "This man was on trial!"

"Yes," Kitty drawled. "... And you paid him; paid him to take the rap. Promised you'd rig the jury. Not exactly a West End role, but I'll bet the money was good." Kitty walked over to Mortiarty now and Leona could see her. If she just turned her head, she'd be able to see her and Leona could go back to Sherlock and John. "But not so good he didn't want to sell his story,"

"I am sorry," Mortiarty begged. "I am. I am sorry,"

"So--So this is the story that you're gonna publish," John demanded incredulously. "The big conclusion of it all: Moriarty's an actor?!"

"He knows I am," Mortiarty argued. "I have proof. I have proof. Show him, Kitty! Show him something!"

"Yeah, show me something!" John snapped. Kitty left Mortiarty's side without looking at her. Leona squirmed in the closet, breathing heavily. She wanted to go back to Sherlock. It was getting hot in here and she could hardly breathe. She wanted to go to Sherlock!

Tears slipped past her face and Mortiarty turned to her. He stared straight into her eyes and Leona sniffed, the danger in his eyes made her entire body go rigid with fear. He was going to kill her. She was going to die.

"I'm on TV," he said, dear returning in his voice. "I'm on kids' TV. I'm The Storyteller. I'm ... I'm The Storyteller. It's on DVD. Just tell him. It's all coming out now. It's all over," Mortiarty becomes frantic and begins to yell. Leona wanted to cover her ears. He had no right to scream right now, he wasn't the one hanging for his life. "Just tell them. Just tell them. Tell them! It's all over now," Leona heard heavy footsteps and they were coming her way. She saw Sherlock. "NO!"

Mortiarty glanced at her, making brief eye contact before turning to run the opposite direction from her. Leona made a noise of pain, trying desperately to get out. Everyone followed him. Nobody came for her. They were talking, but Leona didn't care to listen to them.

A minute later, they are coming back down the steps and to her. Leona, for all her might, tried to make noise. She cried out and rattled the other coats, but nobody turned to her. Leona couldn't breathe. They had to see her. They had to.

"Mhee!" Leona cried out Sherlock's name, but it was muddled behind the tape and he didn't hear her. He was angry and was talking to John. "Mhee!" She tried again, but he didn't so much as turn to her. Leona sobbed, "Mhee... No..." She murmured, but it was too late. Her chance was gone as John and Sherlock closed the door behind them.

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Leona felt so exhausted. She tried desperately to get her arms down. She couldn't even feel her upper body at this point. She felt so light-headed and cold. When Mortiarty cut her, the blood just dripped out, but it hasn't stopped dripping now. It should have closed.

Leona glanced up, looking at the screws that held the panel up. She frowned and then slowly made them turn, and they did. One by one, they popped out, until Leona was haphazardly dangling several feet off the ground. Her weight broke it and Leona fell with a heavy thump. Her ankle twisted and she cried out in pain, trembling.

Leona was silent, but she heard light footsteps coming. She panicked and burrowed into the coats, hoping the woman wouldn't see her.

Kitty opened the door and looked inside, an unpleasant frown on her face. When she was dissatisfied with what she saw, she closed the door again.

Leona laid on the floor for a long time. Slowly, the feeling went back into her hands and she could move them.

Leona didn't want to leave, not at first. She didn't know if Mortiarty had returned. She didn't even know how to leave.

Leona needed a plan. She needed a window. Mortiarty when upstairs to escape, maybe there's an open window up there, somewhere.

But, how would she do it? Leona would have to be seriously quiet. If this woman heard her, and Mortiarty knew she escaped, he would kill her.

Leona focused on her feet, managing to slowly peel off the tape until her fingers were sticky with adhesive, but her feet were free. Her wrists were still tied with harsh rope in a complex knot so Leona had no chance of undoing it.

Leona breathed, before slowly, quietly, moving the door opened. After she confirmed that nobody was there, she herself got up. Her ankle hurt whenever she walked, so, Leona tried to tread lightly.

The blood on the ground made the floor slippery --- Leona was surprised Kitty didn't notice.

When Leona was in the hallway, she breathed. Now, she had to get to the stairs. Leona tiptoed, and waited for a minute while she was around the corner. "Hey, Rich, it's me," Leona stiffened, nearly falling to the floor. Mortiarty was here!? "Look, they're gone now, so you can come back here anytime. Give me a call back when you get this. Bye." Leona exhaled, she was on the phone.

Leona heard footsteps, and they were coming her away. Her heart skipped a beat and she jumped, using her abilities to give her a boost as she hung from one of the light fixtures. She tried to keep her body level, like how they taught her at the school whenever she fought. She was a rod. She was a rod.

Kitty glanced down, noticing small footprints and a puddle of what she suspected was faux blood. That must have been what fell. "Oh, did I step in it!" She comolained to herself checking her feet.

Leona felt herself slipping she couldn't keep this up long. She turned to the kitchen. There was a huge dark bottle on the counter. She flicked her head and it tipped over before falling to the ground. Glass sprayed everywhere and so did a liquid Leona couldn't recognize. It wss very strong and it made her head light.

Kitty ran back into the kitchen, "No! Damn it!" She cried, going to get a broom. Leona finally fell to the ground, breathing heavily. She was never doing that again. She felt mentally and physically exhausted. But, she bought herself a distraction.

Leona got up and glanced around the corner. Kitty was sweeping the glass up, her back was to Leona. Leona limped as fast as she could, and in the process, missed a rather huge shard of glass that went straight into her foot.

Leona's eyes buldged, but she kept going until she was safely around the corner. She sat down, breathing heavily as she slowly took the glass out of her foot. There was a lot of blood but Leona dismissed it. She had to get upstairs. There was a window upstairs. Leona slowly made it up the steps, looking for anything that could resemble a window. Immediately, she saw it. The bathroom had a window leading outside.

Leona ran for it, taking a few seconds to figure out the mechanics of the window, before sliding it open and jumping out.

Leona did not expect the fall. When she hit the dumpster and then slid off onto the ground, Leona groaned in pain, but closed her eyes to ignore it. Her wings were still taped and Leona had to get out. The rope on her wrists were knotted too tight for even her teeth to go through. She needed a knife.

Leona stood up shakily. Her bare feet splashing in dirt-ridden puddles. Every step was a nightmare, but every breathe tasted like freedom.

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"Should I send it out?" A man whispered into a communication device.

"Ehh... Give her five more minutes. I want to see them run." His boss said with a laid back voice. However, to believe that James Mortiarty was a laid-back man would be a fatal mistake. He was a bloodthirsty psychopath that burned every obstacle in his path. To work with him was to walk an all-too-thin tightrope, where the rope was wobbly and thinning by the moment.

The man waited five minutes like his boss ordered, and then picked up the remote again. "Now?"

"... Yes," Mortiarty replied simply. He turned to the cage beside him, were a small girl with the skin of a leopard was curled up. She even had the ears and matching tail of said animal. Looking at her --- was she even considered human at this point, he wondered.

Looking at it was like seeing a rare crossbreed of an exotic animal. It thrilled him, and he wanted to see what it was capable of.

Now, he had his chance to.

"Get up," he said, his voice gruff and coarse around the edges due to decades of ill-controlled tobacco smoking. The animal --- the thing --- responded immediately, standing as tall as it could. "Boss has a job for you. You catch that girl with wings, and he'll let you go. Bring her back here."

The creature blinked at him, confused and it didn't say a word. He rolled his eyes, annoyed with it lack of intelligence. "Got it!?" He snapped, kicking the small cage. It nodded and moved towards the door.

He bent down and clicked the lock, opening the cage. The animal stepped out, stretching its arms. "Go!" He snapped at it, annoyed.

It looked at him, and blinked. With the freedom of its cage, and the man having no significant hold over it anymore, then it did not have to listen to him.

"What are you waiting for, you dumb animal!?" He snapped, raising his arm. "Go!" His arm came down, but it stopped it. The animal looked at the arm, then back at him
Slowly, claws extended from its fingers and easily punctured his flesh. Blood blossomed from it and leaked out. It stared at his arm, fascinated.

"Let go!" He yelled, trying to yank his arm away, but the animal was faster. It used its claws to scratch the man's face, then it sink its sharp teeth into his forearm, tearing out a chunk of flesh. He howled in pain, but the animal was far too pleased with the taste of his blood.

It pounced on him, and devoured him alive. The fact that it had been starving for several days now didn't help his chances of survival. When the man had stopped screaming and struggling, it continued to feast, until it felt satisfied.

Finally, it turned, looking down the dark alley. It's master would free it if it caught the girl with wings? A life of feasting on men like this? That would be paradise.

A coldblooded smile spread on it's lips that dripped red with blood. It believed that it could do an easy job like that.

It turned and began to run, searching for the scent of the mysterious girl with wings.