Dark. Just dark. Where is the light? My bloody God, why can't I see? I try to search for any clue, but my eyes just wouldn't open. I thought to myself that I can do this, I have been through so much worse than being in the dark. My left hand reached midair when I tried to put it on my forehead. I shook it, yet my hand felt cut between a metal bracelet. With my eyes closed, I tried to stay calm and relaxed by letting out a breath of air.

I just wonder. Where am I and why the hell can't I just see? I thought of Sherlock if he was doing okay. That man has always been surprising to me in our cases together. He may be searching for me or may not. Couldn't tell since the bloke was a unsuspecting friend who would either drop by or not. I shake my left hand again with a grunt. I let out another breath of air and finally relaxed my chained hand. Finally, I spoke out in a calm, but frightened sort of way: "Where am I?"

I hear a rustle of another being right beside me. I could not tell who it was because my eyes were closed. I tried to open them just to see a little, but unfortunately my eyes gave way and stayed shut. I don't understand how a doctor and a soldier like me can't even open his eyes in the dark. I did it again, but this time forcefully. I gazed around the area with blinking eyes. There was nothing anywhere. Not a window nor a door to be seen. I looked at who was beside me. To my eyes, it wasn't surprising who it was. Sherlock Holmes.

The best friend who I always is with was standing right beside me with his blue eyes fully open. I could not see him clearly, but without a doubt I could tell by his stature. The tallness, the curly hair, the coat, and the scarf gave it all away… even in the darkness. I moved my head to him and popped a question.

"So where are we, Sherlock?"

There was no answer from him. Only his head tilt down to the floor. I was surprised the great detective did not even budge his right hand from the chains. It astounded me of how calm he was. In not getting an answer from him, I decided to turn my head back straightforward. Then I tilted my head up to where my left hand would be.

I said while looking at my hand in the darkness, "Well, it's not going to go anywhere if we don't get our hands out of these chains."

As to that I forcefully push my hand forward from the handcuff. Unfortunately, it pushes me back. My head and back hits the wall. The wall of which I discovered was definitely metal.

"Metal. Not the best to hit on." I said with a painful grunt, but still trying to sound cheery.

I look everywhere in the dark room to find out where there would be an escape. In all things that had to upset me, there was nothing. Not even the slightest inch of light. So I slide a bit down on the wall and just stayed quiet. Instantly when I did this, Sherlock said something, but I did not hear him at first. He said it louder a minute later, "John, look down. There is something laying on the ground."

I look down and see something rectangular, yet it seemed so faint that I did not see it at first.

"Based on what I am gathering, we are in a metal room and there is a tape player right in front of us." Then he giggled, "Ooh, exciting!"

I sighed, "Sherlock, how is this exciting? Our hands are chained and we can't see or do anything."

Sherlock stayed quiet for awhile. I knew he was thinking up some way of what was going on. I took a deep breath and let it out to stay calm. I wanted so much as to hit someone. Unfortunately, it would be Sherlock. I decided not to hit him even if he is a complete egotistical sociopath. I wondered if Mycroft was the one that put us in here. I know he seems caring for his brother, Sherlock, but he could be worse than Sherlock at times.

"Okay, so we are chained up. Good." Sherlock said as he looked at our wrists then he pointed his head down to the floor, "There is a tape player there. Mighty well done for the person who put us in here." Then he looked around the room and continued to analyze, "The room has no windows nor doors, but the odd question is- how are we breathing?"

I was puzzled by this and he continued, "So as to answer the question, I can feel there is a vent right behind us and two on each sides of the room. But! The one behind us is on the bottom while the other two are on top. I am guessing too that there is a camera hiding somewhere. A small camera no less that is watching our every move and waiting for what we are going to do next."

"Blimey!" I exclaimed, "So someone actually did put us in this dark room just to play a sick and twisted game on us." I looked at him, "Is this your sister's doing again?"

"What! No, no. She's still in the prison where Mycroft is keeping her safe from killing anyone. This… this has to be someone else." Sherlock said with a quizzical look. He was probably thinking why I was willing to ask about that since Sherlock's sister did make us go through games that could take a person's life away. I didn't want to think about it anymore. Shaking my head, I moved my free hand to grasp at the handcuff.

"Well I would outrightly say that this person. Whoever he or she is. Does not want to show themselves to us."

"John." Sherlock said hesistantly, "The person who doesn't want us to know who he is, is definitely giving us a clue by that tape. He's a gameplayer"

"Or she." I added by that one event.

"No, here's a thing that I can tell that it's a he. A woman would not go through this by locking two men up and giving them free hands in a dark room. Nor would she leave a tape that has a sticker with one of our names on it." Sherlock paused and continued, "I haven't seen a case like this, but only in stories. Stories that are from America."

"So, a horror story then." I stated out looking in bewilderment at Sherlock who was as calm as ever.

Sherlock rolled his head in the dark and I could tell he rolled his eyes. He was not the type of man who believes in horror stories. He thought of only logical things and of how they worked. I always believed he would never change as a sensible man. Even insensible at times.