Author's note- Thank you so much for the reviews, favourites and alerts! I will now hand out virtual cookies. Oh, in a few days I'm off across the country to Cornwall, so I doubt I will be updating for a week or so.

Disclaimer- I own nothing.

Chapter 11

"Lucy," Sherlock pressed, knowing where this was going but wanting confirmation, "What about that house?"

"I used to live there." She whispered, "That's where my parents died."

Sherlock's eyes widened in understanding, now the text he had received made sense. The killer was toying with them, taunting them, and it had just become very personal.

"You used to live there?" John said in slight disbelief. The teenager nodded her head, "So you had a lot of money?"

"Yes, my parents had a nice sum of cash," Lucy mumbled, "In fact I inherited it when they died." She seemed a little embarrassed, "That's why I was happy to help pay the rent at 221B, I have the money."

"Lestrade," Sherlock suddenly addressed the police officer, "What was it you found in that house?"

"Well... we found the knife." Greg sighed.

"In my house?" Lucy looked shocked.

"Yeah, it was serrated and covered in blood. It was left lying in the rather spacious kitchen... like it was just waiting to be found." The police officer shrugged.

"It was waiting to be found," Sherlock Holmes muttered, "The killer is really playing the game, finding ways to involve Lucy, I'm not sure why as of yet though. I'm guessing that's the only thing you've found so far, so I'm going to have a look." He started striding off with John, Lucy and Lestrade right behind him. "Make sure you get a fingerprint analysis on the knife, although I highly doubt you'll find anything."

Just before they reached the driveway, Sherlock paused suddenly and turned to Lucy. In a low voice, he started speaking to her, so only she could hear.

"Where was it that your parents were roughly killed?" He asked a little too bluntly.

"About there," Lucy covered a flinch and led him to the left in the approximate spot.

"The killer's were never found were they?" Sherlock questioned.

"No, they weren't. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I was wondering whether the people who murdered your parents are the same people murdering these new victims. Maybe as a way to taunt you perhaps?" Sherlock gave a half smile, "It's just a theory, I wouldn't worry too much right now."

Once they made their way inside the house, Lestrade took them to the kitchen where the knife was found- it was still laying there obviously so Sherlock could have a look without getting annoyed at the fact that it would have been moved. He glanced at it, noting the blood stains- some were older and some were newer, but he moved on from it quickly to have a look around. There weren't many items, as Lucy must have either sold them or given them away- however a few things remained. Greg had a notebook out and pen poised at the ready for when Sherlock decided to share information with them.

"That knife is the one that's been used, judging from the different stages of blood stains. However it's not a knife from this kitchen as no knives from the knife set that is left are missing. It's unlikely we will find much else in this room though so follow me and don't talk." Sherlock swept round and stalked out the room- with his black coat billowing behind him. He started to look around the front room of the house, and noted that the DVD player was turned on whereas everything else had longed been turned off. Walking over, he pressed the eject button and found a disc in there; it was one of the Harry Potter movies. But the case for the disc was nowhere in sight. "Lucy, where did you keep your DVD's?" Sherlock asked quickly.

"We used to have them in my old room, but there shouldn't be any there, I got rid of them." She frowned, "So that's where my Harry Potter disc is." The teen muttered.

"You couldn't find it?" John queried.

"No," She sighed, "I cleared most of our stuff out two months back. I had a decent collection of DVD's all in order in their sets. But that film was missing from my Harry Potter set. I had no clue where it was... And I swear I turned the DVD player off." She ran a hand through her hair, "In fact I know I turned it off."

"Take us to your old room," Sherlock requested.

Up the staircase and down the hallway Lucy led them to a closed white door; she hesitated in front of it, turning back to look at Sherlock, John and Lestrade.

"You should know that my room was completely bare when I left it." She told them, "I gave almost everything away to charity and sold the rest. So there shouldn't be anything in here."

"Wait," Lestrade said as she went to open the door, "Tell us what your room looked like when you last saw it- so if it's changed we will all know."

"Okay," Lucy leaned against the corridor wall, "Well it was just... bare. When I left it, the room was just a large square with laminate floorboards and ivory coloured walls. In the centre of the white ceiling hangs a light bulb." She paused, thinking, "To the right is a rectangular window, that covers a good portion of the wall and it looks out over the driveway and onto the street. That's about it really."

"Okay, go on then," Lestrade gestured for her to open it. Lucy glanced at Sherlock's neutral face before opening the door.

Everything was how she described it.

But there was something different. Something that was visibly noticeable.

On the wall directly opposite the wall were two words, painted in what appeared to be blood.

SHERLOCK.

LUCY.

One word below the other, each word was written in block capitals. Small trails of blood were contrasted against the white wall from where the blood had started to drip down.

"Holy shit," John murmured as they stepped into the room.

"Whose blood is that?" Greg thought aloud.

"The victim's. That's why there was a lack of blood at the crime scene. Clearly he collected some." Sherlock told them, he frowned.

"That's disgusting," John mumbled. Sherlock strode towards the wall, but paused, glancing at the window sill to his left hand side.

"Oh, there's the DVD case." He walked over to the window where a Harry Potter film case was propped up against the window. Sherlock inspected it before picking it up and proceeded to open it carefully. Inside, was a scrap of paper that read:

'The abandoned warehouse number 13, by the river, tonight at 10. Remember, you're not the only one who gets bored.'

Sherlock put the disc back into the case, not alerting the other's of his find. He would tell John and Lucy later, but not Lestrade- the police would mess it up. Besides, Sherlock had a feeling he knew where this was going, and Lucy was getting too involved for him to let the slow, useless police try to sort it out.

"Find anything?" Lestrade asked as he eyed up the blood on the wall.

"No," Sherlock lied expertly, "Must have just been a coincidence." Lucy looked at him with a confused expression, so the consulting detective gave her a 'trust me, play along' look.

"I must have forgotten it was there or something." Lucy shrugged, playing along to fool the police officer, "Never mind eh?"

"You sure?" Lestrade looked a little confused.

"I've seen all I need to see," Sherlock announced, avoiding the question, "Let's go."

"Sherlock!" Greg called after him.

"Get an analysis on the knife, you won't find anything but there's nothing else here." Sherlock yelled back, already running down the stairs.

Once safely outside, and away from where the police were standing, Sherlock led his friends to the next street.

"What was that about?" John asked as they came to a standstill.

"I found something," Sherlock told them, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the paper. He showed it to Lucy and John. Lucy nodded in understanding, realising why Sherlock didn't want the police to know about it.

"You bloody idiot," John exclaimed, "You need to tell the police, this could be valuable."

"No John," Sherlock said, "Lucy is getting very much involved in this, too involved for the useless police to take forever finding out what is happening. The killer left this for us, not for them. If the police were alerted to this and turned up at that warehouse, we could lose one of our only chances." He took a breath, "We all need to go there tonight. This is very much for Lucy as it is for me. I'm not sure what we will find there tonight but whatever it is, we will need it. I can't see why the killer will reveal himself already, the game is too elaborate for that... No. He's going to keep giving us clues. And if he does turn up, we most likely won't be able to see him," Now Sherlock was rapidly speaking his thoughts. There was a pause of stunned silence, "I need to speak to Mycroft."

"What?" John almost laughed at this sudden statement.

"I could use his surveillance skills," Sherlock growled, as though he hated to admit he needed his brother.

"I'll give him a call then," John muttered.

"Sherlock," Lucy bit her lip, "This warehouse... What if it's the one that my parents were found in?"

"That's what I was thinking," the tall, dark haired man said, "It's a game. And he's enjoying watching you relive it."