Chapter 1
Molly POV
Aside from being just about the hottest summer day yet, June 22nd started out a day like any other. I changed into my work clothes, made my coffee and checked my phone as I'd been doing religiously for the past two months. I wore a simple purple shirt, a nice satin material that didn't cling too tight or loose with my white labcoat over top. There were a few stains where I'd been unable to get the blood out of.
With a drawn out sigh, I went to the bathroom to do my makeup and picked up my favourite tube of lipstick. It was a deep shade of red, and always made me feel like a glamerous 1920's star. I started to apply it but stopped, thinking of the man I went to all the trouble to impress.
"He's not worth it Molly," I muttered to myself, "He doesn't think about you at all."
As I finished applying the lipstick and pulled my hair to the side in a pony tail, my mind wandered, as it often did, to the last man I'd dated-Jim. Thoughts swirled and I sighed once again.
Placing the cap back on the lipstick, and then back into it's proper spot on the counter, I exited my washroom and headed for the door.
My house was a nice place, settled in the suburbs on the edges of West London. It was a normal, ordinary house, with a squared in yard and white wash panelling. The yard was well kept, with my garden beginning to bloom. It wasn't as nice as last years garden, but there were Lilies and Zinnia and Dogbane and Jonquils blooming in beautiful patches of pink, white, orange and yellow. Light peeked from windows with curtains drawn, the previous meagenta curtains replaced with an off-white cream colour.
Heading down my short driveway, I unlocked my punchbuggy with a press of a button. The yellow car jumped to life, and I backed out of my driveway and off to the Hospital smoothly.
/
Once I'd checked into the main center, I headed off to the morgue. Some days the morgue was extremely busy, and I was working through several bodies in a day while other times it was, well, dead.
Just before I made my way through the doors to my own little work space, my phone buzzed in my pockets. Figuring it to be my friend Meena finally getting back to me on hanging out the coming weekend, I stopped in the hallway to check.
Flipping to the messages folder, I realized I didn't recognize the number. Probably a wrong number, then, someone who meant to type-
-JM
That was all the text said. I stared at it, disturbed. Not moving, my mind was reeling, calling back all disections I'd attempted at who exactly he was over many sleepless nights. I'd thought I'd never hear from again, and I'd never been able to discern whether or not that made me glad or forlorn. I'd desperately wanted to know more about him, see if any of the sweet Jim I'd known existed, but I feared him as well, like a blazing beautiful flame.
But the text didn't reveal anyone and left me with dozens of questions. Why had he chosen to contact me? Why in this way? There was no message, just his signature. I started to feel sick, and I wondered if I should show Sherlock the message. I decided immediately against it, and, shoving the phone back into my pocket, opened the doors to the morgue.
Hopefully there'd be a nice clean examination waiting for me, where I could put my body on autopilot and try and figure some things out internally. I checked the first man's chart and glanced over at the zipped body bag.
"Henry Ellis, age unknown, found propped up against a lampost on 32nd street. Found dead holding a pink rose. Ruled a crime of passion by his ex girlfriend Tina who has since been missing."
32nd street was only a few blocks away from my house.
Trying to steady my breathing, I (with great effort) lifted the body onto the table, slipped on my rubber gloves and then unzipped the bag.
The man was younger than me, probably early or mid twenties, with short ashen hair and a pale blue face and neck. His eyes were closed, and his mouth was a thin, pale line. Rigor Mortis had already set in, making it easy to pin point a time of death. His back was a dark purple colour, and his skin was taught and waxy. I was glad the smell no longer bothered me, because the smell of decay was present as it always was.
However, the most obvious thing above him was the cuts shaped as a heart made into his chest.
I stared down. This had to be Jim. With the text, and the body with the pink rose found close to my house, it was too much for coincidence.
I let out a burst of nervous giggles, my eyes darting around the room. My feelings were so mixed up, and I was shoked to feel a small sheepish smile creep onto my face. My hands quickly rose to cover it and then back down as I inspected the body closer.
The cuts had been made after death, that much was very clear. It hadn't been his girlfriend, this I knew, and if she was missing she was probably already dead too. I doubted the police would find her. I traced them lightly with my gloved hand- the cuts weren't very deep, and they were done smoothly, finely, most likely with a very sharp, skinny knife.
A hushed, horrified silence fell over the room, and I felt my knees begin to shake. He'd done this for me. A man was dead, to send me (or so I assumed, I reasoned that I didn't know if it was me for sure yet) a message. Or maybe, more likely, a warning. My mind snapped back to the last time I'd seen Jim and my mouth went dry.
I'd never been so terrified in my life. Terrified and thrilled and confused. Taking off my gloves, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and thought for a moment. Blood pounding loudly in my ears, I ran my shaking fingers over the cool screen and contemplated what I could possibly say.
I typed in a small heart symbol with a question mark, as adrenaline beat through my veins. I felt like I should run, close the curtains and hide. But I had to know if there was any reason to.
A minute passed. And then two. I clutched that phone like a drowning man to a life preserver, thinking of all the terrible things I'd been told Jim had done. Jim. James.
Then, it buzzed.
Quickly and without fumbling, I swallowed and checked the message I'd received.
;)
That settled it, then. I felt sick. I contemplated calling up my mother and telling her to lay low, even though that was ridiculous as she already lived out of Britain. If my mother was covered, the only person I needed to make sure was safe was myself and Toby- I had no idea how I could ever hide from him.
I heard the door open, and I swiftly slipped my phone into my pants pocket. Sherlock strode in like a storm, walking up to the table and glancing at the heart before walking up to me.
He was so much taller than me, and had this aura of burning, cold intellegence and strength. I'd never seen anyone's eyes look like his- the most perfect, piercing grey colour. I gulped as I stared up at him, twisting my hands together and feeling the phone in my pocket seeming to weigh 100 pounds.
"Molly. I need to see the body of a Julia Stoner." He said flately. I stared up at him.
"I've..." I started slowly, my brain cranking back into action, "I haven't gotten to examining her yet."
His eyes narrowed, and swept across the room for the second body bag. Once his eyes found it, he gave me a smile.
Here it comes. I thought, Here it comes.
"Molly, you've lost weight." He observed. His eyebrows raised slightly and I bit my lip.
I felt so good to hear those nice words, that flatterly, even if it was empty. But I shook my head- I didn't want to be used anymore. Not again and again.
His features seemed to shift, and he looked at me knowingly. I hated that look, how he could just swoop into the room, learn all of my deepest secrets and then leave. It felt too personal.
"Molly." He said evenly, "I need to see the body."
I nodded and showed him to the bag. As he moved to examine Julia, taking it and putting it up on another table and ignoring me, I considered telling him about the messages. I knew he could stop Jim from finding me, keep him away from me and stop him from contacting me. I knew it would probably be safer, and I knew it might even help him stop London's most dangerous advesary.
But I didn't say a word.
AN:/ A toast for starting the story. I warn you, I'll probably change the chapter around a few more times, I usually do. ALSO- The next chapter will probably be fairly gory. Until next time!~
