11)

I couldn't move.

I was rooted to the spot with pure fear, staring up at Turpin as he smirked at me. A thousand scenarios played in my mind, all of which ended up badly for me.

What was going to happen to me?

If Turpin was the murderer - and all evidence suggested that he was - then he'd have no qualms or problems over murdering me. He could easily kill me with his bare hands, and no one would have any idea. They'd think I was murdered by the elusive murderer and Turpin would get away with it.

A moment of madness took over me.

I sprinted forwards, towards Turpin, and tried to dart around him. He was surprisingly quick.

Grabbing my arms, Turpin spun me around and slammed me against the wall of his bedroom, pinning me against his. One hand stayed on my arm while the other curled around my neck, squeezing.

"Now," he said slowly. "What are you doing in my house?"

It was a rhetorical question; I was choking and gasping for breath. He held me so tightly that my feet were actually lifted off the ground.

"I do hope you realise that breaking and entering is a very serious offense, Miss Moon," he continued.

"Not as serious," I managed to choke out. "As murder."

With a snarl, his hand on my throat tightened. I clawed at his hand, barely able to breath. Black spots began to invade my vision.

Was I going to die?

As morbid a subject it was, I hoped that I would die in peace, free from the guilt I felt of surviving the accident when my friends didn't. But fate intervened, and I was going to die at the hands of a madman.

Something in Turpin's eyes changed, and he suddenly let go of me.

Gasping for breath, I fell to my knees. I struggled to breathe, massaging my throat, and glared at Turpin's boots as he stood in front of me.

The bastard was enjoying this, seeing me in pain. If he was going to kill me, then he was going to kill me slowly.

"Tell me," he said as I slowly sat up, too sore to stand up. "What do you think of my house?"

"Ostentatious," I said. "A brandish display of when a man has more money than sense."

Above me, Turpin smirked.

"You say that with such conviction, Miss Moon."

"I say it because it's true."

Laughing softly, Turpin looked in the direction of the doorway. I followed his gaze, my heart missing a beat when I saw Bamford.

"Bamford," Turpin said. "We have a guest."

"So I see, my lord." Bamford smirked down at me in an unpleasant manner. I glared at him.

"Perhaps we should show her some hospitality. She has, after all, travelled a long way to join us."

"Certainly, sir."

I tried to scramble away from Bamford, but he grabbed the scruff of my collar and hauled me to my feet. He was surprisingly strong for a man of his short stature.

His hand curling around my arm, Bamford dragged me out of the room and down the hallway. Turpin followed us down the familiar corridor I walked down not long ago; we were going to the library.

This time, I didn't admire the books or furniture. Bamford hauled me forwards and shoved me into one of the armchairs.

"Would you care for a drink, Miss Moon?" Turpin asked me, shutting the door and strolling in.

"No," I snapped back.

"Come now, Miss Moon, there is no need for such hostility."

"What are you going to do with me?"

Turpin raised an eyebrow, pausing in his action of pouring himself a drink.

"What makes you think that I am going to do anything?"

"You're the murderer." I started to rise, but Bamford pushed me back down into the seat. "I know you are."

"You have no proof."

"I saw the jewellery." I smirked. "Your trophies."

Smiling, Turpin lifted his glass and took a long drink from it. He never took his eyes from me and I gave him the same curtesy.

"Tell me, Miss Moon, how do you expect to convince everyone that I am the murderer?"

"They won't need convincing when I show them the jewellery."

Turpin looked over my shoulder at Bamford, the two of them sharing a smirk that sent a shiver down my spine.

What were they planning?

"Be reasonable, Miss Moon. I am a respected member of society, a judge. You are a teenager." Turpin smirked. "A young, volatile child that has suffered a traumatic accident. Who are they more likely to believe?"

"How do you know about the accident?" I asked quietly, frowning.

"Your father is only human. He needed someone to listen to his distress regarding the move . . . it just so happened that I was the one to offer a listening ear."

"You're a monster," I whispered.

"How so, Miss Moon?"

"I know what you did to Lucy Barker," I said. "And I know it's because of your obsession with her that you're murdering all these other girls."

Turpin looked interested as he strolled forwards, gesturing for me to continue.

"Lucy was a virtuous woman who loved her husband more than anything, and what you did to her destroyed her." I grew increasingly brave as I spoke. "The one thing you wanted more than anything escaped your grasp and you hate her for it."

Turpin walked past me with slow, deliberate steps.

"You're murdering the girls that look so much like her but have a history of low morals because you just can't understand how this one woman escaped you. This is you consolation prize, your cheap little thrill."

Behind me, Turpin laughed.

"You have certainly given this much thought, Miss Moon."

"And you underestimated me."

Suddenly, Turpin was in front of me. His hands were either side of the chair I was in, trapping me, and he leaned in so close that I could feel his breath on my face.

"Indeed I have," he murmured thoughtfully, his eyes carefully studying my face. His hand reached out and played with a strand of my hair. "It would seem you are far smarter than I initially thought."

He tucked the strand of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering for moment, before frowning.

"What are you going to do with me?" I repeated, shrinking back and away from his touch.

"I could do anything . . . " Turpin's lips tilted into a smirk. "I could lock you away from the rest of the world and leave you in the darkness until it sends you mad. I can leave you there for the rest of your days, leaving you to wonder when your last day will be. I could kill you slowly, intimately, in every way that plagues your nightmares."

Turpin leaned further in, despite me shrinking away, and his lips brushed against my ear as he whispered.

"I could make you rue the day that you were born."

I shuddered, looking away to hide the tears of fear that sprung to my eyes. Turpin smirked and pulled away.

Another moment of madness took over me; my hand shot out to strike Turpin across the face. He caught my hand, however, and held it tightly. I cried out in pain.

"You fight better with your words, Miss Moon," he hissed, releasing my hand. "Remember that."

I cradled my hand against my chest, looking down at the floor as the tears threatened to escape.

I was scared. I was petrified of Turpin; I knew what he could do me.

"Are you quite certain that you don't want that drink, Miss Moon?"

I ignored Turpin. He sat down in one of the chairs, contently sipping his drink, and watched me while I determinedly avoided his gaze.

I don't know how long we sat there in the library together in silence, but when there was a loud knock at the door, I almost jumped out of my skin. I looked up at Turpin reluctantly.

Smirking, Turpin waved his hand at Bamford, never taking his eyes off me.

"Answer the door," he ordered.

I looked away again as Bamford left the library, wondering who would be visiting Turpin at this time of night.

The library door opened, and Bamford stood up.

"Mr Moon," he greeted my father pleasantly. I jumped up.

"Dad!"

Rather than embrace me with open arms and tell me that everything was ok, as I wanted him to, Dad looked at me with such fury that I was glad looks could not, in fact, kill.

"I am so sorry, Nathaniel," Dad said. "My wife and I had no idea that she snuck out."

"No matters," Turpin said. "There has been no harm done."

I opened my mouth to protest - the man attacked me, threatened me and scared me to death - but Dad gave me such a furious look that I shut it again.

"Even so, I can't apologise enough for my daughter's behaviour. If you want to inform the police then - "

"There is no need for that," Turpin interupted with a wave of his hand. "I do not plan on pressing charges."

"If you're sure . . . "

"Of course. Your daughter is dealing with the loss of her friends. It is understandable she acts out like this."

I glared at Turpin.

How dare he stand there and pretend to understand me!

I wanted to scream and shout and make everyone see Turpin for what he truly was, but I couldn't. I was in enough trouble as it was, and I knew my father wouldn't take kindly to me shouting at Turpin.

His eyes meeting mine, I was furious to see the triumphant gleam in Turpin's eyes.

This was all a game to him, and I was the unfortunate opposing player.

"Come on, Lucy," Dad said, extending a hand. I walked past Turpin, to Dad, and let my father pull me out of the room.

If Turpin wanted to play a game, then a game I would give him.


Turpin's speech about what he could do to Lucy was very much inspired by Loki's speech to Natasha in The Avengers . . . I can't help it, it's my new obsession!

Anyway, thank you CadyD and my two anonymous reviewers for reviewing!