"This man is clinically insane- so John, be careful. I need you as back up but be sure to leave some distance." Sherlock explained, looking directly into John's eyes as they he did so, making sure the doctor understood.
John stared right back into ecstatic blue mixed with flecks of gold and green all assorted in the supposed sociopath's eyes.
John's lips twitched upwards into a grin, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. "I could say the same to you- about being careful, that is"
The tiniest of smiles quirked at the left corner of Sherlock's mouth, making John's own smile broaden at the sight. Smiles for the Holmes' brothers were both rare and fleeting.
A loud crash came from within the abandoned building they were leaning against, the noise echoing down the alleyway and into the streets.
Sherlock's eyes gleamed at the confirmation that this was, in fact, the hide out of the serial killer people were referring to as "The Mad Scientist". How he managed to narrow it down to this building simply off of the murderers last concoction of deadly poison's John would never know.
Scratch that, he will most definitely find out when Anderson shows up asking how Sherlock could possibly know the murderers location- unless he of course were an accomplice. Anderson did love to try and pin murders on Sherlock.
"The game is on!" Sherlock suddenly whisper-shouted, not bothering to hide his childish joy as he flung the rusty door open and ran inside.
John followed closely behind, yet still giving Sherlock enough space to get ahead, as previously ordered. Soon enough, Sherlock turned a corner into a dimly lit room and John fell back, slowly creeping up to the door frame with his gun in hand- a precaution in case things were to get out of control.
"Did you know they're calling you "The Mad Scientist" out there?" Sherlock's voice suddenly boomed throughout the empty building, catching John off guard as he listened for any signs of trouble.
"That was a rhetorical question so don't bother answering- of course you didn't. You can't even read judging from your eyes. The scar tissue gathering around them is quite revolting- the main reason your wife left you of course. Well, that and your slowly consuming insanity she obviously didn't want to get wrapped up in."
Furrowing his eyebrows, John peaked into the dim room, surprised to find that the man surrounded by scientific equipment was undoubtedly blind.
"Experiment gone wrong, I take it? You were clearly a scientist working under the government, specifying in acids and poisons. Still, I hate to admit it but I'm not entirely certain why you've decided to go on a killing spree- it's not like you're dying anytime soon." Sherlock continued, inching closer to the blind man still fiddling with elements at his desk.
"Someone like you can't possibly imagine what it's like to lose your sight, it's-"
"Dark, obviously." Sherlock cut in, shooting John, who was still peering in through the open doorway, and unimpressed glance, clearly wanting to wrap this up now that he'd solved the puzzle- all that was left was why.
"The dark is consuming, detective, it eats you alive- worse than death-"
"Then why not just kill yourself?" The consulting detective asked heartlessly, leaving John to almost pity the murderer- almost. He was a murderer after all.
"I thought about it. Everyday, for three months, I thought about it. Why not? There's no one to miss me... Yet, I held on, day after day, telling myself that things would get BETTER!" The man finished with a loud yell, his voice shrill and off pitch.
Sherlock tilted his head ever so slightly as he instead focused on what, exactly, the scientist was mixing together in that test tube of his and whether or not it was going to kill them all.
"But they didn't..." The man continued, "They didn't get better. And no one CARED. No one. People don't care about the needy until they become one of them. So, that's what I did... I made them needy scum, just like me"
Sherlock promptly scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"Only if by needy you mean in need of an ambulance. Injuring yourself at work doesn't give you the right to poison water pipes and burn people's throats from the inside out. Sherlock's baritone voice stated dully.
The blind scientist clenched his jaw and stopped stirring the test tube he had previously been working on.
From a distance, John noticed the tiny, almost invisible, braille labels on each of the vials and gave himself a small pat on the back for making an observation of his own. It wasn't much, but he was learning.
"You don't understand, detective."
"Clearly."
"But you will"
John's eyes widened as he noticed the scientist's hand holding the test tube clench, giving the doctor just enough time to run up and shove Sherlock out of the way before it's contents flung across the room and flew at John, just above eye level.
At first, nothing happened as a strange liquid slid down John's face, then, however, the liquid quickly sizzled into a vapor and next thing he knew John was on the ground in fetal position, his hands clutching at his eyes as they burned intolerably until finally his body gave up and shut down, unable to withstand the pain.
-0.0-
A/N: What do you guys think? Worth continuing or nahh? I was working on my other story and this came to mind and wouldn't let me work on the other one until I wrote it out. Jeez, sometimes I'm so simple minded *sigh* Anyone reading the other story I promise it'll be updated either today or tomorrow! Almost done with the next chapter!
BTW Other story is Purple Milk, have a lovely day everyone!