A/N: Sorry, I am American so this is not Brit-picked. If anyone would like to offer I'd be MORE than happy to have you help me. This is my first Sherlock fanfiction as well so please be kind. I am going to try to make this the most interesting as possible for myself mostly.

"When you eliminate the impossible…whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be true."

Prolouge:

"Tick…tock, tick…tock, tick…tock, tick…tock."

Here we sit in a ring…

"Who are you?! What are you doing here?!"

Close your eyes now while we sing.

"She's just a kid; I doubt she means anything by being here. Honey, why don't you go home?"

This one had a kind face. He had a kind face unlike that one with a loud voice; unlike the angry one.

One of us will go and hide.

"Stop being such a girl Thompson."

This one was a handsome man. This new and third one wore a suit and had shiny shoes, unlike the angry one who wore a muddy pair of boots and a ghastly white apron. Both did not try to coddle like the first one with the kind eyes; Thompson as they so called him. Thompson was tall, and wore a gray sweater along with a pair of tan pants.

"Tick…tock, tick…tock, tick…tock."

There was a fourth one. This one made the sound of a clock. He ticked and he tocked with a smile. This one was smart. This one was bad. This one was awfully, terribly smart. This one I knew. This one I knew well. Tick…tock.

"James, would you bloody stop that incessant noise?!" The angry one yelled

"I was simply keeping the beat. How rude." This one I knew stated.

"Keeping beat to what?" Thompson inquired. I liked this one. This one made me feel safe.

"She's obviously singing. Look at her lips. Really you men are so mundane and idiotic that it's tragic."

Guess who made that space so wide.

It was obvious; at least to me. But to me everything was obvious. Everything was there for you to see. You just had to see it. Humanity was blind. These ones were blind. Even the one I knew, his name James, was blind. Thompson was almost invisible. The other two were disappearing too. Not literal, but they were going to be gone. I could see their deaths reflected in the fourth; in the eyes of the one I knew.

Guess who made that space so wide.

They were falling. They were going to crash and burn and never come back. They would go to the place where people never returned.

Here we sit in a ring…

"We held up our end of the deal Jim, you promised to compensate us." The man in the suit growled menacingly.

Close your eyes now while we sing…

This one I knew, he looked at his wristwatch, "Tick…tock, tick…tock, tick…tock. Well you see Michael, I'm just so easily bored—a bad habit of mine, but it is one of my only habits. I'm also quite changeable."

This one I knew turned and looked at me, "Aren't I child?"

This one was mocking me. This one was mean. I didn't like this one…I didn't like him. My fists at my waist tightened. This one made me angry. This one knew me as well as I knew him.

"What do you mean?! When do we get the money?!" That one with the apron hollered.

I didn't like that one either; that one with the yelling. The world was noisy enough without unnecessary hollering. The one I knew looked back up at that loud one.

"Oh, that. Well," This one I knew, he smirked, "—you don't get any."

"WHAT?!" The politician bellowed.

Thompson cowered slightly at the tone and huddled over by me. I liked this one. This one felt warm. This one…

This one pressed a knife against my neck. My breath hitched and the one I knew simply smiled as if telling me, 'I told you so.'

"James, I will slit this girls throat right here if you do not give us the amount we requested." Thompson stated.

The one I knew stared for a moment before smiling a wide smile; a gleeful and insane smile.

"Ah! A twist! I didn't expect that from you Thompson, a butcher would be more believable—but a headmaster of one of the finest schools in the United Kingdom, using a child as leverage."

"I need that money Jim. Give it to me and nobody gets hurt-"

"Too bad I already saw this coming." The one I knew cut off the one I used to like.

"What?" Thompson frowned.

This one I thought I liked. This one I thought was different. I was wrong.

One of us will go and hide…

That one I knew so very well merely moved behind one of the stone structures used to tamper with electrical. That one I knew was hidden from my view.

"Hey! I'll do it!" Thompson warned and my head started to hurt, the migraines were back again.

The knife bit into my skin; the knife that this one was holding, this one that I had trusted foolishly for a brief moment. My fists tightened further…

I felt the knife dig deeper and felt fear; I was frightened by this one, and angry.

"Go ahead~!" Came the voice of the one I knew so well.

The one in the apron pushed Thompson out of the way and grabbed the knife, "Fine! I'll murder this 'ere brat so she's shut for good, then I'm comin' after you!"

I closed my eyes and shook with anger and fear. Then the world stopped moving for a brief second.

Three resounding screams echoed around me; making the world awfully noisy; terribly noisy. I found myself glad when they choked and became mere echoes off the stones.

I opened my eyes and they sat in a ring, unmoving and now faded away. Life had left them. That one I knew so well came out with a large grin on his face and simply walked up to me and pressed his lips to my forehead in some kind of affectionate gesture I had yet to learn. He placed something lightweight in my hands.

This one felt cold as he walked away with a skip in his step, "Thank you for your work princess~!"

Guess who made that space so wide?

Then he was gone, and I was left alone. I looked at the object that the one I knew had given me. It was a mechanical device, with the letters 'BT' and a rainbow colored sphere on the top and a keyboard of numbers and letters. On the screen there were three numbers typed in; '999'.

I hit the green call button. If the one I knew wanted me to call then I would have to do it, or something bad could happen…worse than him. There was a beep then a kind voice came on, a woman that sounded like she was in her mid-thirties. I liked this one.

"Emergency. Which service?" the woman asked calmly.

I looked around me at the three men who obviously lay dead, "They…aren't moving..."

The woman was silent for a brief moment and there was some keyboard clicks before she spoke again, "Okay, well dear what's your name and how old are you?"

"…there's one in a suit, and one in an apron…one seemed nice but he turned out not to be…"

"Where are you right now? Can you tell me sweetheart?" The woman sounded genuinely concerned and I moved over to the doorway of the roof to see the location of where I was.

"I'm…on the roof of…50-54 Wigmore St."

"Alright, the police are on their way—stay on the line okay? Hello? Hello?"

I had already hit the red button. There was no reason for me to stay on the 'line' as she put it. The call was over and I had given her the information. No matter how much I liked that one, she was as blind as the ones on the ground.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hello there…my name is Sally Donovan. I'm just here for a little chat, is that alright?"

This one had tanned skin and brown hair; obviously given a recent perm. This one wore a heart of sterling silver on a thin chain; obviously worn daily by the slight wear on the edges of it—but it wasn't very expensive, so the sentiment isn't entirely both ways. The person who gave it to this one must obviously be attached in some other way, by a wife most likely. This one knew that very well, but had some hope that they would separate in the near future by the sentiment carried by the necklace given. I felt pity, that necklace was obviously bought a while ago, as shown by the earlier observation of the worn edges implying that the partner's had many chances to cut off said attachment within that given time period but has yet to do so.

I gave her no sign that I had acknowledged her outside from my penetrating gaze as she sat across from me. I could smell the stale scent of coffee and newspaper as the air from the vent blew past her in my direction. Dull. She was an office worker who had been working a long night, not to mention her smile was only half-hearted. This one didn't care. This one didn't care anymore for me than the last one I thought I liked. I didn't move.

"So is there anyone I can call? Your mum perhaps?" This one tried to coax me into speaking.

I said nothing as she scribbled something down on a notepad, my eyes flickered to it and I read her writing upside down.

Estimated age; 10 or 11, Gender; female, Family N/A, Name N/A, hair color: dark brown, eye color; also brown, Race; assumed Hispanic, and no response to questions.

This one's handwriting was deeply pressed into the paper, I could see crinkles on the side—this one was stressed and wanted very little to do with the likes of me.

"I can't help you if you don't talk to me. Can I at least have a name? I did give you mine after all…" This one gave a light smile.

I supposed that was correct, so I looked up at her with little care besides fulfilling my duties as a polite being.

"…Alice…Project."