-I am Molly Hooper-
Chapter Two
The morgue. I feel safer here. It's like my home. I was always a lot closer to dead people. I felt comfortable around them. And, well, now I am one of them. Only a matter of time I suppose.
There is people there, gathered around a table. I narrow my eyes, and joined them.
I knew them. Well, I thought I did anyway.
Four people where gathered around the body on the table.
The only woman was tall, with frizzy black hair. Somethingorother Donovan.
The older man, with greying hair was Greg Lestrade I think. A detective or police officer.
The next man was quite short, and cuddly looking. John Hutson was it? No, it was Watson.
The last man, the tallest there, was standing with his hands covering his face. I couldn't really see him. Then he looked up. I didn't know who he was. He had short curly dark hair, and high cheek bones and was very skinny. Too skinny. Who was he?
"Well, Sherlock?" Greg Lestrade asked the man. Sherlock. So this was Sherlock. I still didn't understand who Sherlock was, and why I only knew his name.
Sherlock rubbed his face and let out a huge sigh, "I don't know, I just….don't know,"
Nobody said anything. You could have cut the tension in the room with a knife.
"John," Sherlock spoke up. John glanced up, "Talk me through it again,"
John sighed, and then coughed, "Well, she was sliced from the top of the throat," He pointed at said place, "Down to the stomach, and then, um, her organs were ripped out. Probably the intestines, then the stomach, then they broke the ribs and got the lungs and heart, then the last of them,"
Sherlock slammed the table, and everyone jumped, including me, "Well where are the missing organs? Did they just grow legs and wander off?"
He left the room with a flourish. John groaned, and followed, then Greg and Sally.
I approached the table.
I felt a scream rise in my throat.
The body on the table. It was me.
