Sherlock thought for a moment as the words sunk in, horror washed over him. His hands curling into balls, his blood boiling as he realised what she meant by her words. He once again had failed to give her credit, realising just how clever Molly Hooper really was and once again he might be too late to tell her of her magnificence.

Sherlock shouted for John to come down stairs with urgency that made John remember his army days. Never had he heard Sherlock sound as imperative. Sherlock was dialling Lestrade in an instant as John hurriedly got ready, he grabbed his gun and soon they were on their way to Molly's apartment. The guards were shocked to see them arrive in a frightening frenzy. Moving past them with a force that they knew not to mess with.

"Call Mycroft." Sherlock bellowed as he climbed up the stairs. He twisted the door handle but it was locked. "Molly!" Sherlock called out in a vicious tone as he struggled with the door. He made no hesitation before he started to kick the door down, repeatedly slamming his foot against the hard wood until it gave in making a creek, snap and crash as it did and hit the floor, splintered from the blow.

"Molly!" He called out again, desperation lining his voice as he barged into the room scanning it quickly, the door was locked and there was no signs of struggle in the room, he deducted. His heart momently lifted as he hoped his deduction were wrong.

John and Lestrade followed Sherlock, their guns aimed high and at the ready for any danger.

Sherlock moved to check every room. The kitchen and bathroom were intact from what he could remember from his last visit. He turned quickly, darting to check her bedroom. Both other men scanned the room quickly as Sherlock did and quickly moved on.

"Sherlock?" John called, as he headed to stay with Sherlock and exited the living room into Molly's bedroom.

Sherlock faltered for a momently stumbling backwards as he laid his eyes on the disturbing sight infront of him. His blood ran cold, all colour drained from his face as he took everything in.

"No." John whispered, lowering his gun slowly.

The sight they were greeted with was nothing less than a nightmare created from hell itself. Blood inked I.O.U.s were scrawled and scratched into Molly's walls, tainting them with their presence. It was splattered and thrown across the walls, now clotting and congealing together.

This was a slaughter.

Lestrade walked in and immediately stepped back covering his face from the revolting smell. "Get forensics in!" He barked.

Sherlock made no move to avert his eyes or nose or to even move. He stood paralysed with horror. When the forensics team had to squeeze past the man John made it his job to get Sherlock out of the room.

Forensics made as quick of a job as they could do, firstly and most importantly checking the blood.

It was a match.

Molly Hooper's blood had covered the walls.

He was too late.

I'm a really mean person for not updating for ages and then giving you a short chapter. Sorry about that. The next one will be a shorter wait though. This hasn't been beta'd either so excuse the spelling and grammar mistakes. Please tell me what you think! Hope you're enjoying it.