Disclaimer: Characters in the Sherlockian Universe are not owned by me, ::sigh::
A/N: Well, this is the one that started it all… After rereading many times, and taking in all the comments from the lovely reviewers (thanks to all), I decided that this story deserved a little filling out and touching up. The plot will stay essentially the same, but hopefully the writing has improved (5 years experience should do that). Please enjoy the revised Ultimate Challenge.
This story is dedicated to puella, whose comments greatly helped in the revision process. Thanks!
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Prologue-
Drip, drip, drip
The ever-present sound of water drops against hard stone drags me into consciousness as steadily as if a hand had pulled me from within the eternal darkness.
There is no up or down in this place, and no source of light to speak of. There is only me in this hard, wooden chair that creaks every time I try to move. I feel the rough texture of rope grating against my tightly bound wrists and ankles, and wince slightly as a splinter of wood or the rusty head of a nail digs into my shifting back. My pounding head is still throbbing painfully where I had been struck, and I feel the slight trickle of blood tickling my chin before it falls and joins the chorus of water droplets.
Someone will come for me, I'm sure of it.
Drip, drip, drip
There it is. A blinding shaft of yellow light streams into this gloomy place, piercing the darkness with its brilliance. As I blink away the dark spots dancing in my vision, a dark outline appears starkly silhouetted against the glowing aura of radiance.
"Mr. Holmes," a familiar voice calls out from the doorway in a falsely sanguine tone. "I trust that your stay here has not been too uncomfortable."
"It has been sufficient," I answer back as calmly as I can with an eyebrow raised, playing along with his game for now. The silhouetted figure slowly approaches, his steps resounding sharply against the hard slabs of granite. He stops before me, and stoops so we face each other eye to eye. His piercing azure orbs harden as he narrows his eyes into slits.
"How did you escape?" I ask, with my tone surprisingly hoarse from thirst.
"That's my little secret," the voice replies curtly, before the man raises himself to his full height. "I have a proposition for you, Mr. Holmes."
"I am not interested in any of your petty offers."
My reply takes the man off guard for a moment, as his eyes widen slightly before hardening threateningly. "It is in your interest to comply. . . However, I am willing to be generous. Pray reconsider, or else I might put you to some other use."
Footsteps echo once again as the tall dark figure retreats back to the portal of light from whence he came.
"I will return tomorrow," the figure calls, before disappearing into the dazzling brightness.
A creaking of rusty hinges grate on my tense nerves as the shaft of light narrows, and then disappears once more. I am plunged once again into eternal night.
Drip, drip, drip