This is my first attempt at writing Sherlock fanfiction so I know the character may seem a little off? Im not used to writing any of the so let me know what you think.

Disclaimer- I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters.

I hope you enjoy;

Sherlock closed his eyes and searched his mind palace to see if he could figure out how he ended up in the slightly unfortunate situation. One-minute John, Lestrade, Donavan, and himself were on the trail of a murder that was terrorizing London by torturing and than leaving his prey to bleed out or die from infection now he was dangling from the ceiling by a pair of rusty handcuffs in an abandoned storage building.

How incredibly dull. At least if he was going to be captured why couldn't it be by a criminal with half a brain or at least one that was a little bit more creative. Sherlock pulled on the handcuffs a few times to test if they would budge so maybe he could get out of this tedious situation. He tried jumping on his tippy toes and pulling down would free him. After a few tries he came to the conclusion that pulling on his restraints only caused the rusted metal to cut into his thin wrists.

Sighing the consulting detective scanned the room for the first time in an attempt to see if there was any other way to get him out of this, now painful, situation. At first he saw nothing but a couple empty storage crates and some feces from the rats that called this building home. He turned his head to look over his shoulder to be greeted by the sight of his roommate and the two police officers knocked out and chained to the leaking pipes. They looked fine besides the fact that they would all have a massive headache when they woke up from where the killer hit them with a lead pipe.

Great his best hope at getting out of here are in the same position as him. No one else knew they were here. Sherlock ran off like he always does and the three that are now out cold followed him only because they were standing there. If he was lucky Mycroft would notice that himself and John were missing but the chances of that happening are too low and the time he realizes they are gone they will probably be dead.

So this is how the great Sherlock Holmes dies. Hanging from a falling apart ceiling by an average run of the mill killer. He always knew he would die young but he thought it would be the hands of Moriarty or even himself. Trying to ignore the aching his arms he fell into a deep sleep to pass the time before he was saved or killed.

A couple hours later he was awoken by the pounding in his head and three voices urgently speaking back and forth. Opening his eyes slowly to the harsh fluorescent lighting in the virtually empty room.

"Well we can't just wait for him to come back! Once he comes back he is going to kill us! We have to get out now or never." Donavan yell whispered failing to hide the panic laced in her words.

"I am so glad you guys decided to join the land of the living but if you wouldn't mind stopping with your pointless bickering that would be much appreciated. I have a killer migraine." Sherlock span on his toes to face the three sitting on the floor. "Oh and Donavan your deduction skills are worse than usually. Of course he is going to kill us when he gets back because that is what killers do."

"Oi freak why don't you go fu-"

"Guys! Time and place!" Lestrade managed to cut the two off before they continued with there pointless argument. "Sherlock tell us than how to get out of here."

"We can't." Sherlock span back around to face the only door in the room.

"What do you mean we can't?! Use that brain of yours to get us out of here!"

"I am pretty sure it is oblivious what I mean Lestrade. We have to wait until he makes a mistake or until someone finds us." Sherlock winced as the cuffs rubbed his already cut wrists causing them to reopen and bleed on his white dress shirt.

"No one knows we are here, Sherlock." John's statement caused everyone to fall silent in realization that they are completely alone.

"That is why we have to hope this guy is as idiotic as I think he is." Sherlock looked over his shoulder and smirked at the doctor causing John to hide is smile at how stupid his flatmate was sometimes. The two locked eyes for a second before the door to the room was slammed open. Sherlock span quickly to face his kidnapper.

The man standing at the door studying the four was a man that by the looks of it lived at the gym. By just looking at him Sherlock could see the muscle hidden beneath the cheap black tee-shirt and ill-fitting dark grey hoodie he wore. His jeans were caked with mud and by the looks of it blood, probably not his own. Making his way back to the mans face Sherlock noticed how average it was. He did not have any noticeable scares or other injuries besides the black eye he was sporting. He had a shadow of a beard that was growing and a mop of blonde hair that reached his shoulders and slightly covered his green eyes. Smirking their kidnapper to a step towards the detective towing him over. His callused hand reached up and brushed Sherlock's hair out of his face causing the genus to flinch.

"I have never had four people to play with at the same time let alone two cops, a doctor, and a detective." His dead eyes darted across the faces of each of his soon to be victims. "This is going to be very fun."

Well that is it for now. Let me know if you want more and what I can fix. Also if you have any ideas I would love to hear them! There will be gore in the next chapter if I write more just a warning in case you are not good with that. Thank you again for reading!