Hey, again sorry for my writing, English isn't my mother language. Enjoy ^^
Sherlock was sitting there, like usual, in his mind palace. For the last few days, there hadn't been any cases and Sherlock started to get boring as he always did when his mind wasn't occupied.
John was there too, sitting in front of him. He was writing something on his laptop, certainly the next article for his blog.
Suddenly, Sherlock heard steps on the stairs. They weren't women's, so it couldn't be Mrs Hudson, Mary or Molly. Was it Fred or whatever was his name? No, not matching steps. Who was it then?
Sherlock opened his eyes and frowned at the sight of Mike Stamford. What was he doing there? Usually, it was either Molly or Ted Lestrade who gave him the cases. And as much as he knew, Molly hadn't a day off.
Mike looked at him and said:
"Sherlock, I was wondering if…
– Mike, Sherlock interrupted him, thank god you brought a case, I was starting to get really bored.
– Actually, I…
– Let me guess, you found a corpse in the river and it hasn't any proof?
– Well, I didn't come for…
– I know! A serial killer is in...
– SHERLOCK!"
That was John. Sherlock suddenly stopped talking and turned to look at John who gave him a killer gaze.
"Come on, Mike, tell us what you wanted to say.
– Oh, I… Ehm… Oh yeah, I was wondering if you saw Molly recently because she didn't come to work for about four days.
– Isn't she at home?
– Well, I called her many times and asked her colleges but no one saw her…
– Well. Sherlock, what do you…? Sherlock?"
Sherlock was staying there, gazing at nothing. He suddenly lifted his head and asked:
"Why?
– Why what? asked Mike.
– Why didn't you call me or something, you know as well as me Molly didn't miss a work day for years!
– I actually did, didn't you see your phone?"
Sherlock gazed furiously at his phone. Three phone calls and two messages, all from Mike. Oh, and there was a message from his brother. He stormed out of the flat. Mike started following him but John stopped him.
"Let him calm down. He needs to be alone."
Sherlock took a cab to Molly's flat. He rang and waited. No one responded. He took his phone and called her. He got the usual vocal message, which was 'Hi, this is Molly, at the dead centre of town. Leave a message.' He didn't remember she was laughing when making this vocal message and realised she had such a pretty laugh. But she hadn't responded. And that made him furious.
He decided to wait for someone to get out of the building so he could sneak inside and manage to open her door.
After what seemed him hours, a little man came out. He held the heavy door just in time and got in. He knew exactly where Molly's flat was.
He was now in front of her door. He knocked. No response. He said to the door:
"Molly, it's me, open, please."
No one responded. He pressed the handle of the door with rage. And to his surprise, the door opened. He frowned and entered slowly. Why didn't Molly lock the door? That was surprising.
He slowly walked around the flat. No one was there. Suddenly he saw something on the floor. Was that… Blood? My god, yes it was. What happened?
Sherlock angrily punched the kitchen island's surface. How did he let Molly alone? What was in his mind to don't phone her at any moment?
He tried to calm down and analysed the scene. He suddenly saw a paper. He unfolded it, something was written: if you ever want to see her again, you'll have to follow some instructions
That was it. Molly has been kidnapped.