How could my eyelids feel so heavy? I struggled to open them, moaning. I tried to take a deep breath but choked on a piece of heavy cloth.
"Ah, our little princess is awake..."
I recognized that voice! That oily, terrifying voice... My eyes opened slowly. Everything was out of focus. I tried to move but found I couldn't.
Slowly, the world around me became clear. Mr. Donnelley's face swam into view. I was in the warehouse, tied to a chair.
Mr. Donnelley rubbed his hands. "Now," he turned to several of the people with black robes. "Hide. Young Mr. Holmes will be here any minute."
I strained against the ropes. I was bait! I realized - bait for Holmes!
For several minutes the warehouse stood in absolute silence. Then, without a sound, one of the windows far above my head eased open. I could tell by the sky outside it was late at night. "Holmes!" I yelled, but it came out as "nghhhh!"
He heard me, unfolded a rope, and began climbing down it. "No!" I tried to say, "It's a trap." He didn't hear me, or couldn't tell what I said. I looked at the chair I was tied to. It was wooden...
Struck with sudden inspiration, I strained to the right, then to the left. The chair began to rock. For one perilous second, it hovered on two legs, then smashed to the floor. The back of the chair cracked in two. The ropes loosened and I pulled the gag from my mouth. Holmes slid to the floor.
"Holmes!" I yelled, my voice surprisingly coarse, "It's a trap! Get out of - nghh." Hands pulled back at me, cutting off my breath. Holmes gave a yell as he, too, was surrounded. He hit and punched and kicked... but there were too many swarming black robes...
Somebody tied my hands in front of me and replaced the gag. Mr. Donnelley bound Holmes. "And now," he said, "We have some fun. Mr. Holmes, the cock-sure detective... helpless."
"You - MONSTER!" Holmes yelled. "You have me, let her go!"
"Oh, no... I've got plans for the two of you. I shall enjoy watching you... watching her... die."
Holmes yelled - a pure rage that shook the windows above. "NEVER!"
"Quiet!"
"NO! I - "
Mr. Donnelley turned and hit me across the head. I bit my cheek to keep from crying out. Holmes silenced, shaking with rage. Mr. Donnelley nodded to the black robes, and he led us all down the staircase in the floor.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
There is nothing scarier than being held helpless. All my life I've detested those girls who swoon or giggle or play the part of damsel in distress just a little too well. And now, here I was, helpless.
Mr. Donnelley had marched to the altar, chanting and lighting candles and incense.
Helpless.
I was totally...helpless.
Hey! Wait a second - that was my only defense: being helpless. I met Holmes' eye and winked very slowly. Taking a deep breath, I let out a fake moan, and slumped against my captors. They chuckled, thinking I had fainted, and relaxed their grip on me. Slowly, trying to make any noise, I began to pick at the ropes.
Before I could free myself, the black robes picked me up and brought Holmes and me forward to the altar. They pushed me to my knees and bent my upper body over the low black table. A single candle was lit under my face. Slowly, as the black robes began to chant, I held my hands over the flame. The fire licked the ropes, weakening them. I gritted my teeth as I felt the skin on my wrists blister. My hands began to shake but I held them firm. With a quiet snap! that couldn't be heard over the weird chanting, the ropes broke. I held still and prayed that Holmes was watching me.
I held out three fingers. I saw the shadow of Mr. Donnelley in front of me.
I held out two fingers. The shadow raised a sword.
I held out one finger, then yelled and rolled away. The sword came crashing down where I had been a second before. Holmes had seen my signal and had kicked out at his captor. He ran the ropes that held him over one of the vicious swords. The ropes snapped, and he grabbed the blade.
I kicked Mr. Donnelley in the stomach. Surprised, he fell backwards. I grabbed the first thing that came to my hand - a large candelabra. I held it above my head to stop the sword of yet another black robe. I slid the burning candles the length of the sword and thrust them into his face. He (she?) screamed and backed away.
"Watson!" Holmes yelled, fending off another robe. I turned to run to him. Someone grabbed my ankle and I fell. I kicked, then turned and kicked again. Above me, another attacker raised a sword. A dish from the low table fell beside me, and I grabbed it and held it above me as a shield. The clang of metal on metal made my arms and teeth shake. Holmes cried out and leapt to defend me. He slashed at the robe with the stolen blade. I stood and hid behind him, still clutching the silver dish.
Holmes held the sword out in front of him as we backed into a corner. Hundreds of black robes advanced, snarling, with their swords drawn.
"Holmes," I whispered.
"Sh!" he said, looking up towards the ceiling. I followed his gaze. A huge chandelier was suspended by a rope. The rope led down and was attached to the wall where we stood. "Hold tight!" Holmes yelled. I dropped the dish, grabbed the rope, and held on with all my might. With one hand, Holmes slashed out at the knot that held it.
I thought my arms were being pulled out of my shoulders. I screamed as we rocketed skyward. With a sickening crash, the chandelier hit the floor below and we were hanging suspended, fifty feet above the ground. The rope swung towards the balcony and we jumped, cleared the low railing, slid along the floor, and then crashed into the wall.
For a minute I thought my lungs had been torn out of my body. Then I shuddered and took a gasping breath, inhaling smoke and incense. The chandelier below had started to burn. Flames licked up the walls, melting the paint.
Holmes and I scrambled to our feet and ran along the balcony - the door was on the other side of the room, which meant we had to run the length.
The black robes started charging up the stairs, as much to avoid the raging fire as anything else. Mr. Donnelley was the first to get through the door. Then, with a sickening crash, the stairs leading to the balcony collapsed. Screams echoed off the burning walls.
We ran for all we were worth. Suddenly, the boards gave way beneath Holmes' foot. He yelled and clutched at his leg. I put my arms around him and pulled. His foot came free but he couldn't run as fast. We were just about at the door when Mr. Donnelley reached us. Drawing a gun from his robes he cocked it and aimed...
"Holmes!" I yelled, and pushed him away. Three shots rang out, and something white-hot seared across my arm. I gasped and clutched at my skin where the bullet had grazed. I looked up - Mr. Donnelley aimed the gun at my head and pulled the trigger.
Click - click - clickclickclickclick. He was out of bullets! Snarling, he threw the gun away and drew his sword. Holmes stood and raised his own sword, ashen faced.
"A duel to the death, then, Mr. Holmes?" Mr. Donnelley slashed at him once, twice. Holmes blocked both but stumbled backwards. It was obvious he couldn't win.
The flames were inching closer. I seized part of the railing and tore it away - it was surprisingly flimsy. With shaking hands I held it in the nearest flame until it caught fire...
Holmes stumbled again, and fell. Mr. Donnelley raised the sword...
I stepped over my friend's body and smashed the railing against Mr. Donnelley's head. He screamed and stepped backwards. I dragged the wooden club in the other direction, sickened by the sound of sizzling flesh. Mr. Donnelley threw his hands up and leaned against the railing. It broke.
For one split second he flailed horribly over the pit of fire. I dropped my weapon and instinctively reached out to him...
With a scream, he fell backwards.
Sobbing, realizing I had just killed a man, I helped Holmes up. The heat of the flames and the smoke was tearing into me. We stumbled out the door and began dragging ourselves up the stairs.
The flames were inching closer, closer, closer...
Holmes scrambled out of the hole in the warehouse floor, but I didn't think I could make it. The pain in my arm was overwhelming.
I gasped and wheezed. Tears from the heat welled up in my eyes as I fell against the stairs. "Watson!" Holmes yelled. He put his arms around me and helped me stand. The flames were coming closer... I could feel the heat on my back...
We burst through the warehouse door, gasping for breath. A cold wind whipped around my body and the torn shreds that used to be my clothing. The frigid November night stabbed into my lungs like a knife. With a groan, Holmes and I collapsed to the pavement.
In the distance, I thought I heard sirens, but everything was going fuzzy at the edges. My eyes drooped and struggled for one last breath... Holmes took my hand as we both slipped away.
The firemen told us later that they had to pry our fingers apart, one by one.
"Ah, our little princess is awake..."
I recognized that voice! That oily, terrifying voice... My eyes opened slowly. Everything was out of focus. I tried to move but found I couldn't.
Slowly, the world around me became clear. Mr. Donnelley's face swam into view. I was in the warehouse, tied to a chair.
Mr. Donnelley rubbed his hands. "Now," he turned to several of the people with black robes. "Hide. Young Mr. Holmes will be here any minute."
I strained against the ropes. I was bait! I realized - bait for Holmes!
For several minutes the warehouse stood in absolute silence. Then, without a sound, one of the windows far above my head eased open. I could tell by the sky outside it was late at night. "Holmes!" I yelled, but it came out as "nghhhh!"
He heard me, unfolded a rope, and began climbing down it. "No!" I tried to say, "It's a trap." He didn't hear me, or couldn't tell what I said. I looked at the chair I was tied to. It was wooden...
Struck with sudden inspiration, I strained to the right, then to the left. The chair began to rock. For one perilous second, it hovered on two legs, then smashed to the floor. The back of the chair cracked in two. The ropes loosened and I pulled the gag from my mouth. Holmes slid to the floor.
"Holmes!" I yelled, my voice surprisingly coarse, "It's a trap! Get out of - nghh." Hands pulled back at me, cutting off my breath. Holmes gave a yell as he, too, was surrounded. He hit and punched and kicked... but there were too many swarming black robes...
Somebody tied my hands in front of me and replaced the gag. Mr. Donnelley bound Holmes. "And now," he said, "We have some fun. Mr. Holmes, the cock-sure detective... helpless."
"You - MONSTER!" Holmes yelled. "You have me, let her go!"
"Oh, no... I've got plans for the two of you. I shall enjoy watching you... watching her... die."
Holmes yelled - a pure rage that shook the windows above. "NEVER!"
"Quiet!"
"NO! I - "
Mr. Donnelley turned and hit me across the head. I bit my cheek to keep from crying out. Holmes silenced, shaking with rage. Mr. Donnelley nodded to the black robes, and he led us all down the staircase in the floor.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
There is nothing scarier than being held helpless. All my life I've detested those girls who swoon or giggle or play the part of damsel in distress just a little too well. And now, here I was, helpless.
Mr. Donnelley had marched to the altar, chanting and lighting candles and incense.
Helpless.
I was totally...helpless.
Hey! Wait a second - that was my only defense: being helpless. I met Holmes' eye and winked very slowly. Taking a deep breath, I let out a fake moan, and slumped against my captors. They chuckled, thinking I had fainted, and relaxed their grip on me. Slowly, trying to make any noise, I began to pick at the ropes.
Before I could free myself, the black robes picked me up and brought Holmes and me forward to the altar. They pushed me to my knees and bent my upper body over the low black table. A single candle was lit under my face. Slowly, as the black robes began to chant, I held my hands over the flame. The fire licked the ropes, weakening them. I gritted my teeth as I felt the skin on my wrists blister. My hands began to shake but I held them firm. With a quiet snap! that couldn't be heard over the weird chanting, the ropes broke. I held still and prayed that Holmes was watching me.
I held out three fingers. I saw the shadow of Mr. Donnelley in front of me.
I held out two fingers. The shadow raised a sword.
I held out one finger, then yelled and rolled away. The sword came crashing down where I had been a second before. Holmes had seen my signal and had kicked out at his captor. He ran the ropes that held him over one of the vicious swords. The ropes snapped, and he grabbed the blade.
I kicked Mr. Donnelley in the stomach. Surprised, he fell backwards. I grabbed the first thing that came to my hand - a large candelabra. I held it above my head to stop the sword of yet another black robe. I slid the burning candles the length of the sword and thrust them into his face. He (she?) screamed and backed away.
"Watson!" Holmes yelled, fending off another robe. I turned to run to him. Someone grabbed my ankle and I fell. I kicked, then turned and kicked again. Above me, another attacker raised a sword. A dish from the low table fell beside me, and I grabbed it and held it above me as a shield. The clang of metal on metal made my arms and teeth shake. Holmes cried out and leapt to defend me. He slashed at the robe with the stolen blade. I stood and hid behind him, still clutching the silver dish.
Holmes held the sword out in front of him as we backed into a corner. Hundreds of black robes advanced, snarling, with their swords drawn.
"Holmes," I whispered.
"Sh!" he said, looking up towards the ceiling. I followed his gaze. A huge chandelier was suspended by a rope. The rope led down and was attached to the wall where we stood. "Hold tight!" Holmes yelled. I dropped the dish, grabbed the rope, and held on with all my might. With one hand, Holmes slashed out at the knot that held it.
I thought my arms were being pulled out of my shoulders. I screamed as we rocketed skyward. With a sickening crash, the chandelier hit the floor below and we were hanging suspended, fifty feet above the ground. The rope swung towards the balcony and we jumped, cleared the low railing, slid along the floor, and then crashed into the wall.
For a minute I thought my lungs had been torn out of my body. Then I shuddered and took a gasping breath, inhaling smoke and incense. The chandelier below had started to burn. Flames licked up the walls, melting the paint.
Holmes and I scrambled to our feet and ran along the balcony - the door was on the other side of the room, which meant we had to run the length.
The black robes started charging up the stairs, as much to avoid the raging fire as anything else. Mr. Donnelley was the first to get through the door. Then, with a sickening crash, the stairs leading to the balcony collapsed. Screams echoed off the burning walls.
We ran for all we were worth. Suddenly, the boards gave way beneath Holmes' foot. He yelled and clutched at his leg. I put my arms around him and pulled. His foot came free but he couldn't run as fast. We were just about at the door when Mr. Donnelley reached us. Drawing a gun from his robes he cocked it and aimed...
"Holmes!" I yelled, and pushed him away. Three shots rang out, and something white-hot seared across my arm. I gasped and clutched at my skin where the bullet had grazed. I looked up - Mr. Donnelley aimed the gun at my head and pulled the trigger.
Click - click - clickclickclickclick. He was out of bullets! Snarling, he threw the gun away and drew his sword. Holmes stood and raised his own sword, ashen faced.
"A duel to the death, then, Mr. Holmes?" Mr. Donnelley slashed at him once, twice. Holmes blocked both but stumbled backwards. It was obvious he couldn't win.
The flames were inching closer. I seized part of the railing and tore it away - it was surprisingly flimsy. With shaking hands I held it in the nearest flame until it caught fire...
Holmes stumbled again, and fell. Mr. Donnelley raised the sword...
I stepped over my friend's body and smashed the railing against Mr. Donnelley's head. He screamed and stepped backwards. I dragged the wooden club in the other direction, sickened by the sound of sizzling flesh. Mr. Donnelley threw his hands up and leaned against the railing. It broke.
For one split second he flailed horribly over the pit of fire. I dropped my weapon and instinctively reached out to him...
With a scream, he fell backwards.
Sobbing, realizing I had just killed a man, I helped Holmes up. The heat of the flames and the smoke was tearing into me. We stumbled out the door and began dragging ourselves up the stairs.
The flames were inching closer, closer, closer...
Holmes scrambled out of the hole in the warehouse floor, but I didn't think I could make it. The pain in my arm was overwhelming.
I gasped and wheezed. Tears from the heat welled up in my eyes as I fell against the stairs. "Watson!" Holmes yelled. He put his arms around me and helped me stand. The flames were coming closer... I could feel the heat on my back...
We burst through the warehouse door, gasping for breath. A cold wind whipped around my body and the torn shreds that used to be my clothing. The frigid November night stabbed into my lungs like a knife. With a groan, Holmes and I collapsed to the pavement.
In the distance, I thought I heard sirens, but everything was going fuzzy at the edges. My eyes drooped and struggled for one last breath... Holmes took my hand as we both slipped away.
The firemen told us later that they had to pry our fingers apart, one by one.
