Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Steve Moffat, Mark Gatiss own Sherlock and his realm. Scott Frank owns "Dead Again" screenplay, and Kenneth Branagh could own me, if he only wanted to... I just own my computer,my version of Openoffice, and my sick fantasies.
Thanks to my Beta Meldee for giving light to what I left in the dark, to my cheerleader Lisa for her precious support, and to my dear Flavialikestodraw for her amazing artwork and encouragement. Written for the 2015 Sherlolly Big Bang Challenge.

California State Prison - September 4th, 1950

Kitty Riley had always prided herself in being a self-confident woman. From the first day she decided that she wanted to be an investigative journalist, she had sworn to herself that she wouldn't let anything, or anyone, have the upper hand on her, which included the ability to surprise or even scare her.

As she walked down the aisle of the prison with an air of confidence, she did not allow anything to alarm her. She turned a blind eye to the prisoners whistling at her red-clad figure who were all proposing a variety of filthiness that included her in various positions with a varying degree of men. They were nothing more than an annoyance to her. No, she wasn't scared of what was about to occur. Nervous, yes, but who wouldn't be in her situation given what was at stake? She had dedicated the past six months to find a way to meet with one of the most important celebrities of their time face to face. However, all her efforts thus far ended in vain. Sure, she had the odd phone interview, but she was never given an indication that this man wanted to see her. Every single time she asked about a face to face interview, she was met with a sneer and a clear indication that he found her absolutely repulsive and that he would never want to see her face. Then, suddenly and completely out of the blue, she had been summoned by him with the offer of an exclusive interview face to face. His last interview and her ticket to fame.

The guard leading her stopped without a warning in front of a dark, nearly pitch black, cell, causing Kitty to halt her steps abruptly. She released a deep breath she had been holding, waiting for the cell door to be opened. Finally, she could meet the man who had monopolized her working days for half a year face to face. There was a lone lamp hanging from the ceiling in a corner once Kitty had peered inside. In the half-light of the cell, she was forced to squint her eyes in order to locate the prisoner.

"Come in, Ms. Riley." A deep, baritone voice welcomed her, the voice oozing with amusement and secrets that had Kitty itching for her pen and paper to capture every word.

As she took the first step into the cell, she noticed another guard within standing behind her host. To her surprise, the guard was cutting the prisoner's hair. She decided that it was time for her to have a cigarette to de-stress the situation. Most men found it disturbing that a woman would smoke so freely, but she was curious to see if the great and famous Rainer Zweig was one of them. She took out the lighter and flicked it on, the flame let her take in the cell's wallpaper. Her eyes widened in shock as she realized the walls were covered entirely by her articles detailing the whole narration of his story from beginning to end. She felt a huge swell of pride and self-confidence that this man kept track of everything she wrote about him, but that quickly disappeared as she heard him speak.

"As you can see, I've become quite a fan of yours." The prisoner smirked, his eyes watching Kitty as if she were the interviewee instead of the interviewer, "Of course, that's only because your articles about me are either completely sensationalized or they're as close to the truth as anyone will get. I must say, you are just as repulsive in person as I suspected you were. I was smart to wait until my last moments to grant you this face to face interview you so strongly desired."

Kitty eyed the empty chair in the room and sat down, taking care to blow smoke in his direction in a flippant way. She knew better than to make a mistake or to show any weakness. Too much was riding on this interview and she couldn't do anything to upset her host, regardless of if he was in a cell or not. Besides, most people would do anything to have the exclusive she did now and she wanted to make sure that her efforts would not be in vain. Kitty leaned back against the chair and took in another breath of smoke, blowing it in his direction once more before speaking.

"I'm flattered that you think my writing is of high quality. Is that why you've asked me to come down to death row, Mr. Zweig? I found it a bit strange that you contacted me, you know...The last time we talked, I recall you telling me that I repelled you and that you refused to have a face to face interview with me." She told him casually, taking care to emphasize that he did not want to have her around.

Rainer ignored her reply and got right down to business, saying coolly, "I'd like you to print something."

Kitty was not surprised by his bluntness. After all, his rudeness was almost as famous as his talent. The last time she had interviewed him, she nearly walked out at the numerous times he interrupted her or refused to answer her questions. But she knew that this was the last interview he was ever going to have and she refused to let a single word be altered or rewritten. Kitty knew that she would sometimes bend words to make her articles stand out, but all of her articles about the man in front of her were never changed and were written word for word. She refused to change that now that he was on death row.

"Really? And what makes you think that I would do it? After all, you rejected my requests to tell your side of the story multiple times." Kitty hissed, her polite tone now clipped with irritation.

Rainer leaned forward in the light, his recognizable dark locks had gone and his hair now clipped to the scalp. "I'd like you to print that I said I loved my wife."

The journalist almost scoffed at his statement. "You loved your wife. Sure."

The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. "And that I'll love her...Forever."

"Of course. Forever. All right." She verbally scoffed this time before pausing, waiting for him to add something else, a desperate plea, a confession, maybe.

Instead, he simply began to hum a song she didn't recognise, as if he were alone in the cell, the man now completely ignoring her. Kitty was at her wit's end, completely annoyed. This was the reason why she was summoned? To print that Reiner Zweig loved his wife and that he would love her forever? There had to be something more! She refused to believe that those two statements were all Reiner wanted to say.

The guard who was cutting Reiner's hair put the scissors down on a small bed table. It was at that point Kitty realized that she didn't have much time left, so she got up and asked abruptly,

"Aren't you afraid to die, Mr. Zweig?"

"To die is different from what anyone supposes. And luckier." Was the reply given to her, Kitty blinking at the cold and hollow voice that came out of Reiner.

Kitty couldn't suppress a nervous chuckle at this point, the voice giving her a cold chill down her spine. She knew she was now treading on thin ice. She had seen a glimpse of this side of the man once before and it nearly had her running out the cell. She noticed Reiner watching her steadily, as if waiting for her to regain her composure before they continued. Kitty gave the man a charming smile and focused once again on getting her confession.

"Is that a line from your opera?" She inquired, trying to make light of the situation.

His smile oozed sarcasm as he replied, "It's Walt Whitman. I can't take credit for everything, Ms. Riley."

She sat down again, angry at herself for showing her ignorance. She once again exhaled a thin, steady stream of smoke in Rainer's direction, only this time it was slightly shaky.

"You really believe that you're lucky to die?" She asked him, raising an eyebrow at the man in front of her.

Suddenly, Rainer reached out and removed a lock of his hair from the table that divided them, causing Kitty to jump slightly. She watched as he examined it closely, his eyes savouring the consistency between his fingertips, before letting it fall down before he began speaking again.

"What I believe, Ms. Riley, is that this is all far from over."

Right on cue, the warden and several prison guards appeared at the cell's door. Kitty felt as if she were in one of the novels she read, the ones that focused on the reporter about to be murdered by the criminal they were interviewing right in front of the guards as a confession came from the criminal. She hoped that she wasn't going to be the reporter who ended up dead over a confession. Then again...what a way to go in her line of work. She shook her head slightly. No, she wanted to live to admire her fame. Sparing a glance at the warden and guards, she nodded when the warden pointed to his watch. Turning her attention back to Reiner, Kitty placed her hands on her lap and asked,

"But you still killed her. Didn't you, Herr Zweig?"

The man spared a look at the warden and his group then slowly got up and bent down, putting his mouth to her ear and murmuring something into it that caused her eyes to widen.

"Ok, Zweig, let's go." The warden said, his men coming in to take Rainer's arms and lead him out.

Kitty remained silent as the prisoner straightened up and walked to the cell's door. She spared a look at the bedside table covered by Rainer's hair. She put out the cigarette with her heel on the floor and, with one sharp breath, scattered the hair to reveal a newspaper bearing the headline"Rainer Zweig executed today". She took a second look and froze. The scissors were nowhere in sight.

She could hear Zweig singing while he was being led down the row by the warden and his armed entourage.

Kitty ran out of the cell, and shouted "No! Stop him! Stop him!", but the group didn't slow down. From behind, she could see something shimmer in Zweig's hand. She knew what they were. She should have known from the beginning that something was wrong. Kitty picked up speed and stopped abruptly, taking in the sight in front of her.

At the far end of the row awaited a group of reporters and photographers, revealing that Kitty was not the only one that Rainer had called to the execution. Standing amongst the crowd was a woman who looked to be in her late twenties. She could be described as an unusual beauty with her chestnut eyes full of warmth. Kitty found her smile strangely familiar, as if she had met her before, but she couldn't recall the name of the woman. The woman smiling at Zweig, her smile fading as the prisoner approached her and, lifting the open blades of the scissors, shouted "These are for you!", before thrusting the blades in her throat.

A woman with no name sat up in bed and screamed until she could feel her voice weaken and break with the strain, her body shaking violent as she tried to get her breathing back to normal. She grabbed her throat and began checking herself for blood before sighing in relief. It was another nightmare for her and the second one that night.

She looked around her room as if she had no idea where she was before her body relaxed, recognizing its surroundings. Outside, the wind was howling, moving the branches of the large trees to sway dangerously and giving the statues in the vast garden an ominous look. The woman hated those statues for they reminded her of demons guarding Hell's gates.

"Then why...why do I feel drawn to them?"She thought to herself, leaving the bed and its sweaty sheets.

From underneath the door, she could see the light flicker on, and then off, in the hall. She opened the door and stepped out into the corridor, her satin nightgown whispering against the floor as she ran down the spiral staircase. On her right, she eyed the door to large room, an empty study of some sort if she remembered correctly. She opened the door and picked up the ornate telephone on the desk with bated breath...Only to discover there was no line.

The light in the hall flickered on and then off once more, prompting the woman to return to her room, putting the phone back onto its receiver and moving silently. As she approached the room's threshold, a tall figure slowly materialized before her, its face hidden by the darkness. Suddenly, the light returned and a man's face appeared, something in his right hand shimmering with malicious intent.

"These are for you!" He hissed and, with a smile on his lips, raised the pair of scissors and thrusted them at her throat.

Once again, the woman with no name sat up and screamed, clutching at her throat once more. "Another nightmare ?!" She thought, tears gathering in her eyes, " Why?! Why won't they stop?!"

The nightgown covering her body was too big and the cheap cotton was itchy on her skin, contrasting the silk nightgown she was wearing in the nightmare. She heard footsteps outside her door as she got up and slowly approached it. The footsteps stopped as she stood in front of the door, moving the chair that was blocking it aside. She grasps the doorknob, stiffening as she felt it turn in her hand on its own. She whipped the door open to reveal a cloaked figure standing at the threshold. The woman screamed again as her eyes focus on something shimmer on the figure's body, her own body tensing in preparation of reliving the horrors of her nightmares.

The tall nun caressed the crucifix that hung around her neck, sighing to herself as she listened to the woman scream and began inwardly praying to God that this woman's nightmares would end. It was a constant thing with this woman who had no name as, night after night; she would wake up with a blood-curling scream that could wake the dead, rambling about scissors and blood and a man whose name she could not remember. The woman continued to scream as the nun stepped into the room, trying to calm her.

"Shhh, it's alright, child. I'm not going to hurt you." The nun said softly, her voice trying to sooth the woman.

Thankfully, the nun was just a step away from the young woman as her eyes rolled back. She fell into the nun's waiting arms, her screams dying into the night as her vision faded to black, the only thing on her mind was the man with a dark smile and a pair of scissors in his hand, waiting for her to return to the nightmares where he ruled over her, his deep, baritone voice laughing in her ears.