I would like to say thank you again for reading the story! I hope I've been living to the subscribers' expectations throughout the chapters, and I also hope I have stayed in character and kept you entertained until now :-D
Now things are starting to get... well... more interesting, in my opinion. ;-)
So, what do you think? Reviews are very welcome here!
Sherlock had his phone in his hands when another message arrived: Open your email, Sherlock. Oh, and fetch some earphones, you're going to need them. JM.
"S-Sherlock, y-you all right?" Watson asked weakly from his bed.
Sherlock looked up from the Blackberry in his hands, unaware he had been frowning all the while. "Sorry… I'm going downstairs for a minute. Back in a sec. And finish your food." With out another word, Sherlock grabbed his computer, charger and a pair of earphones he had luckily brought with him and dashed out the door, leaving John Watson staring at him in confusion, still holding a half-finished bread in hand.
The cafeteria looked just as dull as the bedroom. There were windows only on the right side, giving a clear view of London, a food counter in the center, and less than ten people looking as dull as the place itself, each minding their own businesses, scattered throughout the place.
"Ah, I seem to have lost my appetite." Sherlock muttered to himself, somewhat sarcastically as he found an empty table by the corner. He placed his computer on the dirty surface of the table and connected the charger to the outlet on the wall and it. He turned the laptop on and checked for emails, leaning forward in anticipation as he plugged the earphones on.
1 new email received. Subject: none. Sherlock clicked it open as the gears of his mind began to turn. His eyes narrowed as he read:
Open the attachment.
JM.
Sherlock, raising an eyebrow, did as the email told him and opened the attachment at the bottom of the page. It was a movie file. He turned the volume up a bit and played the video.
It started out dark and blurry. Whoever was filming this was using a bad quality camera, probably bought at a cheap local store without much thought and care. But where was Moriarty? As the video progressed, the images sharpened themselves and became brighter. It was evident that John was in the middle of it all –literally. He was in the center of three or four men dressed in dark clothes. His arms and legs were tied to a chair, and he was right under the flickering light of a single light bulb dangling from the ceiling. His face and mouth were bloody, his clothes were torn and he looked worn out. Sherlock had deduced from John's wounds that the video had most likely been filmed at the beginning of John's captivity, probably around the end of the first only thing that the detective couldn't really make out was where exactly they were; he thought the place seemed dirty enough to be somewhere abandoned. An old garage, or building?
Suddenly, a voice was heard off screen. It was a very soft voice, not any older than Sherlock himself, even younger actually.
"Jim…" Sherlock mused out loud as the movie continued. Even if he couldn't really see him, the sound of Moriarty's squeaky voice gave him enough proof that he was there in person. He heard the man say: "What a pleasant surprise to have you here with me again! And where's your little detective friend, hm?"
"You would know." John answered angrily. He spat in front of him, where the consulting criminal must've been standing, though that only earned the doctor a punch on the face. Sherlock balled his fists slightly.
"Now, now, boys. Don't be so brutal. We've still got a couple of days left with him." Moriarty chuckled. But he stopped suddenly and his voice became serious. "You must know, John, that I'm not here to obtain information out of you."
"Then what the hell do you want?" John inquired, his voice shaky from the previous impact.
"Simply to mess you up in your last days alive, is all." Jim Moriarty said casually. "Do you think Sherlock will miss you? Do you think it will break his heart once he sees your dead body in the morgue?"
"Shut up." The soldier said from his chair, lowering his eyes as though he had just been defeated in combat.
Moriarty chuckled again. "Hmm. Anyways, I think that's enough, stop filming. Things are going to get pretty icky now-" He whispered, "Right, Sherlock Holmes?"
With that, the movie finished. Sherlock, feeling slightly disturbed, ran his hands through his hair. "Why is John still alive, then? Did you change your mind, Jim? Or is it something else…"
At that exact moment, Sherlock received another email that had no subject. He clicked it open and it said:
"You must be wondering why I let your little pet live. Doesn't matter, he can tell you how he managed to escape, for all I care. What's important is this: "I'll burn the heart out of you." Remember Sherlock? But now I changed the rules of the game a bit. Why don't we say John is the heart? I'll give you two weeks to try to figure out how to save him."
JM.
P.S Send John my regards. I had a great time with him.
The consulting detective lowered the computer screen and leaned back on his chair. The situation was a bit more complicated than he had previously imagined… Should he tell John about all this? No. There was too much doubt in his mind at the moment to make any kind of decision.
Sherlock stood up. What he really needed was some tea, and a lot of time to sort things out.
Well then! Hope you enjoyed the chapter :D (Somehow, it always ends in a sort of open ended way :-P)
