(JohnPOV)
Braving a war destroyed battlefield? No problem. Getting shot? Why not, isn't that what soldiers do? Living with a high functioning sociopath? Yolo. Playing with Chinese mobsters and being threatened by the British government? I can handle it.
Getting the milk without a row with the chip and pin machine? Thoroughly impossible.
Which is why, at the moment, I am walking in the dead of night—with no milk mind you—and not a soul around. The streets are empty save for the occasional stranded cat. Not even the cabbies seem to be out. It's as if all of London decided to go to sleep at the same time. Quickening my pace, my foot falls echoed in the stillness. I'm fairly sure this is the point in the movie where the monster jumps out and attacks the beloved characters. A shiver runs down my spine, not entirely from the cold weather.
With only two blocks left until Baker Street, I rounded the corner, and that's when it happened.
xoxo
Thick fingers gripped my shoulder from behind and roughly yanked back. I halted and the hand turned me around. No, no, no…Why did I leave my gun at home? Oh yeah. Stupid milk. Like I said earlier, LIVING WITH THAT GIT IS IMPOSSIBLE.
I was met with the face of a large man with a bushy moustache. His eyes were masked by a pair of dark sunglasses and a cotton beanie covered most of his head.
There was a pause before he spoke, his voice gruff and unpleasant, South American accent, almost Spanish. "Are you Dr. Watson?"
I frowned a bit and tried to shrug out of his grip without attracting his attention. Better said than done, as his grip only tightened. "That depends on who's asking." The man nodded to himself and reached into his pocket. Oh God, he has a gun. No, a knife. No wait, he has…a cell phone? The man brought his mobile to his lips and spoke into the receiver in another language. Possibly Spanish, but as I had dropped out of that particular course first year of uni, I wasn't entirely sure.
He snapped the mobile shut and put it back in his pocket. "You are to come with me." My protests died when he struck me in the back of the head. The blow blinded me for a few seconds, but that was enough for the mustached man to reach into my own jacket pocket and slide out my mobile.
Before I knew what was happening he had thrown the stolen cell into the nearest garbage bin. My speech was a bit slurred and sluggish when I spoke next "Hey…you're gonna…pay for my replacement." In response, the man only pushed me forward until I began walking. He followed close behind; his thick fingers a constant pressure. At least he chose my good shoulder, though I have a feeling if he knew the other was bad, he'd have gripped that one.
xoxo
The alley we ended up in was a dead end. There were no doors or windows in the walls on either side. We walked all the way to the end and he turned me around once again. He stepped back and held out his hand expectantly. I could only stare at him blankly.
He frowned and pushed his hand closer to my face. I shook my head helplessly. "I don't know what you want." His eyes hardened and his lips pressed into a thin line. "That's not what Moriarty tells me." His accent was more pronounced when he spoke the much-hated name.
"And what does Moriarty claim I have for you?"
"The pendant."
"I'm sorry? What pendant? Whatever it is, I don't have it. Sorry." The Spanish man raised his hand and brought it back across my cheek. Bruises. There will definitely be bruises after this. The sting left behind was uncomfortable and I could already feel the redness forming.
"Of course you have it. The opal snake of Guadalupé. You stole the necklace from my museum and then sold the chain, keeping the pendant for yourself. Moriarty has told me the whole story. You cannot fool me Doctor Watson." Realization dawned on me and I shook my head at the man before me, who was already threatening to strike again.
"Had it ever occurred to you that Moriarty is a lying scum? He'll tell you anything you want to hear, truth or not. You can't trust—" I was cut off by a heavy hand falling on my cheek again, this time close enough to my eye that the lid became swollen and closed. Dammit. Black eyes are incredibly unattractive.
"Lies! You are the liar! Liar and thief!" Another slap. I am not going to take anymore of this. With one hand firmly on my shoulder, the mustached man curled his other fingers into a fist. As his hand came flying toward me, I sidestepped enough so that he caught my ear. Again, Dammit!
I grabbed his wrist and twisted back, forcing him to turn away from me and toward the street. He struggled and protested as I pushed him toward the ground. The whole while my eye throbbing and my cheek stinging, reminding me why I was now putting a knee in his back. With both of the mustached man's arms twisted around, I leant down to speak in his ear. But before I could say anything, another blow hit me in the neck. I lost my grip and fell sideways.
Other hands reached down to pick up the Spanish man and dust him off. From my spot on the ground, I could see at least three extra pairs of feet. These additions held no mercy for my prone body, and soon I was bloodied and bruised, curled up in the fetal position.
The mustached man stood by the whole time as his gang "punished me until I gave them the pendant." I gave up a while ago trying to convince them I didn't know anything about it.
Just as I felt consciousness start to slip away, the man's mobile rang. He answered immediately and spoke in supposed Spanish. There was a pause, and I could feel his hidden gaze on my battered form. He barked out what sounded like an order and the extra feet stopped and stepped away. I shuddered out a painful breath. My voice was weak and not at all intimidating, but the significance was clear enough, "I told you so."
The man said something to one of his men and a moment later a hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me none too nicely to one side of the alley, then promptly let go.
With once last glance, the mustached man left, his gang following. I watched with a blurry eye as they briskly turned left and out of sight. As soon as they were gone, my head fell back and I let the sleepy night surround me in much welcomed darkness.