I don't have any warnings in this chapter. It's the next one that really gets involved in the torture.
I don't own any of Sherlock, all rights belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Mark Gatiss, Steven Moffat and the BBC.
Chapter 4
Captured
Sherlock's hands were bound to a desk. He could feel the pull of the ropes on every one of his limbs. They seemed to get tighter with every breath he took. His shirt was gone, leaving his chest bare, cold and pale. He threw his head back onto the support that lay behind it. He could hear nothing. Nothing but the bare silence that surrounded him in every corner. He didn't understand how he could have been caught so quickly. Someone was watching him. Somebody knew what he was doing. But who could it be? Sherlock shut his eyes and thought about the events from the past few hours. At first, everything was blurred but eventually his thoughts started to clear.
(6 hours previously)
"Mrs Hudson?" Sherlock's hands gripped onto the door handle to her flat. There was no sound inside. "Mrs Hudson?" He repeated himself. * Whack* Sherlock's head was hit with something blunt and round. His whole World twirled and then he fell to the floor.
(Back again)
Sherlock's thoughts returned to the place in which he was tied down to. He could smell blood; it was most probably his. He could feel the blow still pounding on the back of his head. The room was cold and damp, it was obvious to him that nobody had been in here in a while. Suddenly, he could hear the sound of footsteps closing in on him. A dark figure swayed towards him.
"Hello Sherlock Holmes." A loud and mysterious German accent came from the figure. One that Sherlock couldn't recognise. "Or should I say," The voice changed, "So you're Sherlock Holmes?" Sherlock's eyes opened quickly. A woman dressed completely in black stepped into the light that shined right above Sherlock's body. She wore long leather gloves that stopped at her elbows. Her hair was tied back tightly into a bun, that was so perfectly formed it could have been on a model.
"Brooklyn Jones." Sherlock chuckled and put his head back down onto the rest. "Or should I say, Grace Thomas?" Her face appeared in the light. He could see every feature clearly. Her hair had changed colour and her rings were replaced on her fingers. Sherlock could see the expression of Grace change. She wasn't at all surprised that he knew who she was.
"Ah. So you do know?" She smiled at him and placed her hands on her waist. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to notice. What gave me away?" She was curious, she always wondered how he would do his trick.
"Well. Your rings were missing."
She tutted as her eyes rolled. "I know that already..."
"Yes, but the space was exactly the same length as the one I recorded on the day that I interviewed you. Do you remember? That was the case in which you were caught after you killed your husband and children..."
"Yes... Yes, you're right Mr Holmes. But how did I do that; I never found out if you knew." She moved to his head, stroking her long painted nails across his chest.
"Do you mind? You're in my personal space bubble." He looked up at her smirk, and then returned his head to a comfortable position. "You caught your husband having an affair, as I recall. You hung him up and slit him open. His insides were splattered all over your carpets. Then." Her eyes closed. She could picture every movement of her body during the vicious triple murder. "You grabbed your youngest by the throat. Using the knife you sliced open his scalp. He was screaming, wasn't he. So to silence him, you threw him onto the ground..." Sherlock knew that this was getting to the woman. Her eyes were filling with tears and her heart rate had increased. Small wheezing noises were leaving her mouth. "Any way. You crushed his skull and then cooked his brain for your daughter." He looked up at her. Small tears ran down her face. One-by-one they fell upon Sherlock's face. Somehow he could feel every piece of anger that she felt for him right now, inside each and everyone of her tears. She was being destroyed.
"Carry on..." She tightly shut her eyes, hoping that the tears would leave her alone.
"Your daughter. You used her crayons. There was evidence all inside her throat and nose..." Grace clutched her nose, it was obvious to Sherlock that she felt pain whenever she thought about it. "You shoved them up her nose and down her throat yelling at her. What did you say?"
5 more tears fell from her eyes before she managed to whisper out her answer. "You've killed your own brother..." Sherlock nodded.
"But. It was you." Sherlock's face turned into a wide grin. Much like the Cheshire Cat, he showed all of histeeth, "You killed your whole family..." His sentence was silenced by an almightly slap. Grace couldn't take any more.
"Very clever, Mr Holmes. You noticed that the events still haunt me. Well. Now YOU will pay." Her eyes trailed off to an on-coming shadow. It was another woman.
"And what are you going to do?" Sherlock joked, he had no idea the plan that Grace had made for him.
"This is Zoe. She's hypnotised, of course. I don't want her remembering any of this." Grace twirled slightly, pulling Zoe closer to Sherlock's head. "She's brought her lie detector with her today." A smile appeared slightly on her face. "Every time you tell me a lie, she will use this 'Cat-O'f-Nine-Tails' on your precious. Little. Body." Her laughter pierced his ears. "Oh sorry. Is my laugh annoying?" Zoe turned and faced him.
"You could always chuck her out of a window." her laugh was robotic. Sherlock recognised her voice. This wasn't a girl named Zoe... It was John's ex-Alice. What had he done?
