Sniper 1 (Gantry): Retargeted from Subject's chest to Subject's cranium. 🔴Sniper 2 (Balcony): Maintaining lock on the old woman's C4 vest detonator. 🔴Sniper 3 (Ventilation): Aimed directly at my own forehead. 🔴 (Just in case I get bored and want to see the look of utter despair on their face when they realize my life means nothing to me).
A door you were certain was locked swings open. A slim, immaculately groomed man in a tailored Westwood suit strolls into the light, hands casually stuffed in his pockets, grinning like you're old friends reunited at a pub.
Jim Moriarty:
"Jim Moriarty. Hiiiii! 👋. Jim? Jim from the hospital? Did I really make such a fleeting impression? But then, I suppose that was rather the point. I've given you a glimpse. Just a teensy glimpse of what I got going on out there in the big bad world. I'm a specialist... you see. Like you. Consulting criminal. You've come the closest, now you're in my wayyy. Daddy's had enough nowww."
He tilts his head, his dark, dead eyes drinking in your panic.
Jim:
"So take this as a friendly warning, my dear... back off. Although I have loved this. This little game of ours. Playing Jim from IT. Playing Gay. Did you like the little touch with the underwear?"
You stare at him, horrified. This insanely intelligent psychopath. People died!! Just for a game!
Jim: (His voice instantly violently snaps from giddy to a terrifying, guttural roar)
"That's what people DO!"
Fuck. He's going to kill you.
Jim:
"Kill you? Eh, no. Don't be obvious. I'm going to kill you anyway someday. I don't want to rush it. I'm saving it up for something special. If you don't stop prying… I will burn you. I will burn the heart out of you. Oh! Well, I better be off. Ciao."
He turns his back to you. The ultimate insult. He's walking away. Fuck it you lunge. Grab the lapels of his obscenely expensive suit, spin him around, and wrench him into a brutal, suffocating chokehold. You have the Napoleon of Crime trapped. You got him.
Or did you?
[🕸️ MORIARTY'S SPIDERWEB — VARIABLE ASSESSMENT 🎭]
Time doesn't slow down for Jim Moriarty like it does for Sherlock. Time dances to his tempo. As your arm crushes his windpipe, Moriarty doesn't struggle. He simply lets his weight go dead, his mind mapping the beautiful, chaotic theater of the moment.
ACT I: The Physical Illusion Subject has initiated physical contact. Adorable. Pulse racing. Sweating. Trembling. They think they've won. They think the physical realm matters to a spider.
ACT II: The Board
ACT III: The Flaw in the Hero's Logic Does the Subject realize that snapping my neck releases the pressure on the dead-man's switch I'm currently holding in my left pocket? No. They are focused on the chokehold. They are focused on the immediate gratification of violence. And that's assuming I am even the real Jim Moriarty. I could be Richard Brook. I could be a surgically altered fanatic with an earpiece. The uncertainty is the real poison.
Final Review: Predictable. Disappointing. But... terribly fun.
[🎭 SPIDERWEB CLOSED]
Despite the chokehold cutting off his air, Jim doesn't fight back. Instead, his lips curl into a wide, terrifyingly genuine smile.
If you snap his neck, you might cherish that look of surprise on his face 😮... but only for a fraction of a second. Then he'll be disappointed. You won't even have time to cherish the victory.
He taps your arm twice, gently, like a teacher correcting a slow student. You slowly, numbly, release him. He straightens his collar, completely unbothered, and turns to walk away again.
Then, they stop.
He turns back around, his eyes wide & bright with fresh, manic inspiration.
Jim:
"Sorry, boys! I'm so changeable! It is a weakness with me, but to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness. You can't be allowed to continue, you just can't. I would try to convince you, but everything I have to say has probably already crossed your mind.”