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Watson:

Having been filled with a warm indignation I found it hard not to chase after the man being led away and thrash the hide off him! However Holmes was in clear need of medical attention, and I decided to wait until he gave the word to act...for the meantime. Rushing over to him, the ghastly extent of his injuries came quickly to my eyes. Blood trickled down his face, forming a bold line where the whip had left its' mark. He was conscious but, due to confusion and blood spilling in front of his eyes, he still lay where he had fallen.

"Holmes!" I shouted, turning his head so as to better assess his injury.

"Good God man!" I now found myself saying after having quickly drawn away my hands now covered in blood. "Here" I handed him my handerchief, knowing he would rather do it himself then have me fussing over him.

"Wohtthdevlhpend."Was all I heard him mumble, as he thankfully took it from my hand and pressed it against his face. It was scarlet within seconds.

"That brute Moran struck you with his horse whip! I didn't expect such cowardice, even from a man as himself. I tell you Holmes, you just say the word and..."

"No no Watson, that won't be necessary." came his muffled interruption

I helped him to his feet, and was amazed at how quickly he found his balance. I then led him slowly to the hansom waiting just beyond the gates before attending to the wound.

We returned to the inn and I wasted no time in asking the maid to bring up some water and bandages. Holmes sat by the fire, deep in thought as I knelt by him, doing my best to stem the bleeding. After ten minutes of this, I drew back to study my work. He now had a white strip of bandages around his head, coupled with the visible burn marks from our earlier adventures, I couldn't help but give a sigh.

"Surely we should inform the police of this, Holmes? We can't just let the man walk free!"

"Indeed Watson you are probably right." He sighed, this uncharacteristic remark causing me to frown.

"But... of course! I have been a fool!" With that he leapt from his chair. "Quick Watson, in here!" he said signaling, to my surprise, to the wardrobe.

"Are you sure your alright?" I asked, wondering if the blow had some how affected his senses.

"Yes yes Watson, I'm fine! Just get in quickly!" He now said, grabbing me by the arm and leading me to the wardrobe. Somewhat unwillingly, I got inside. If I hadn't have known the man better, I would have thought it a joke. To my even greater surprise he handed me my revolver from the side table.

"This may help your escape." He muttered before shutting the door, leaving me in darkness and confusion. No sooner had he done so, that I heard a knock on the bedroom door. Feeling extremely uncomfortable, surrounded by clothes, I put my eye to the slight gap in between the doors to see who it was. Luckily the small gap was positioned in such a way as to have a commanding view of the room. It took a lot of effort not to burst out of my container when I saw our guest.

It was none other then Colonel Sebastian Moran himself. The nerve of the man! Four men followed in his wake as he strode into the room. From what I could tell with my limited view, Holmes was standing somewhere to the left of my hiding place. I now knew the reasons for him placing me here, he no doubt wanted me to burst out when he gave the signal, that was the reason for revolver, but what of his statement 'This may help your escape'?

My musing was interrupted however, by the colonels' brisk tone that cut through the air, his manner sending a fresh wave of rage through my body.

"Mr Holmes!" he said, as though Holmes were in his residence and not the contrary.

"How nice to see I left my mark on you!" he smirked. Holmes still remained silent. "And where is the good doctor?"

"Out." My friend said simply.

"Without his hat or coat? Oh but it doesn't matter, my boys here will go look for him." With that the four henchmen walked out to look around the house.

Holmes had somehow placed himself in front of the wardrobe, and I could no longer see what was happening. When he moved again I saw that the men had returned and that Moran had now produced a gun. "Nothing? Well then it appears we are alone, no doctor to save you now."

When would Holmes give the signal? Surely soon?

"Go get our friend then." Moran now said to two of the men. They stepped forwards and each grabbed one of Holmes arms. Holmes put up resistance and one of the men dropped to the floor with a bloody nose. The other now placed his broad arm around the detectives' neck while the two remaining men rushed to their aid. Holmes kicked out and struck one of them in the chest, he fell to the floor gasping for air. The black haired man with his arm around Holmes neck now squeezed tighter and Holmes was forced to use his hands to try and release some of the pressure.

The other man still standing took this to his advantage and threw one fist deep into my friends stomach the other striking his bandaged head. The latter seemed to send a fresh wave of pain and confusion over Holmes, while the former left him gasping for breath, now kneeling on the floor. The men had recovered and picked up his limp form leading him towards the door.

I could take it no more, and without waiting for whatever the signal may be, I pushed against the door. It wouldn't open. I threw my full force against it but still it remained shut. Through all the confusion my noisy attempts to escape were not noticed. I stopped as Holmes had started to speak.

"Where are you taking me?" He croaked, the effects of being strangled not having worn off.

"Where am I taking you? Can't you deduce it Mr.Holmes? I suppose it doesn't matter if I tell you. Let's just say I'm taking you to a place which has its conveniences when wanting to dispose of a dead body, although I may decide not to kill you first. Sudden death would be the kind way out!"

With that he burst into manic laughter that reverberated off the walls. They all left the house, leaving me in my wardrobe. I finally understood what Holmes had meant by 'You may need it for your escape'. Aiming my revolver the best I could in the deficient amount of space, I fired two rounds into the lock. Bursting free I took a deep breath before running to the window. The thoroughfare below was deserted.

I had thought Holmes wanted me hidden as a trap, but he had done it because he didn't want me taken as well. This brought a mixture of feelings, on one hand, indignation at the fact I couldn't help, but on the other... he had saved me. He had known I was not what they wanted, he had known they would have shot me, so he had locked me in to keep me from harms way. Moran was wrong when he had suggested Holmes was always saved by his doctor. Now I thought about it, it was usually the reverse. He did it in subtle ways, nevertheless he had saved me more times then I cared to remember, and now I needed to find him, before he was killed, if for any reason then just to say thank you.

I ran down the stairs and hailed a cab, not giving an address but telling him to wait until I had thought of one. He looked shocked at this, perhaps he thought I was joking, but he waited all the same. What had Moran said? 'A place which has its conveniences when wanting to dispose of a dead body.' But where was that? A mortuary? A hospital? A river? Some nagging voice in the back of my head told me I was wrong, but then it must surely be...a graveyard!

"Cabby, drive me to the nearest church!" I cried in such a sudden fashion that he must surely think I was for Bedlam. We rode at break neck speed towards a steeple I could see above the roofs, in the distance. I hoped for Holmes sake that I wasn't erroneous in my conclusions. I was just thinking that perhaps it would be best for me to go to the police, when we pulled up outside the church. After throwing the cabby a few coins, I proceeded to go inside.

Inside was full of flickering candles. The coolness, that seemed to come from the stone itself, sent a shiver down my spine. As in any church one was overwhelmed by the sensation of magic that tingled in the air. You could almost hear the thousands of prayers that had been made, almost see the sad faces at a burial or the jubilant expressions of a marriage. My steps echoed loudly, and I felt I was making some rude intrusion. Was it possible that such a ruthless man as Moran had come here? To this sanctuary of peace and prayer? It was to late now for me to try somewhere else and so I strode across the marble floors towards a door at the far end. Opening it I found myself at the top of a long flight of steps, dimly lit and leading down to an even darker chamber.

Having reached the bottom I peered into the room. Seeing nothing, I struck a match to some candles on the wall. Noticing that they were warm, I decided they must have been used recently. Looking around, I was surprised to see two open coffins, though I was relieved to see they were empty. Three spaces in the dust told me that there had been more, and that they had been recently removed. I walked around the room, stopping to check a dark shape on the floor, finding it to be a length of rope. Then perhaps Holmes had been here, and been tied up? Five sets of footprints around one of the gaps in the dust told me what had happened. Moran's words echoing in my ears 'I may not decide to kill you first' but surely he wouldn't...?

My heart filled with a panic for my friend safety and I ran as fast as my legs could carry towards the graveyard outside. The birds were singing and it seemed although nothing in the world could be wrong on a day like this. In an instance my eyes fell on the three nearest graves. Unlike the others, they were freshly dug and undoubtedly contained the three missing coffins. If Holmes really was in one of them, then his time was running out. I would only have time to dig up one... but which? Forcing myself to be calm, I spent a few moments in thought. Having made my choice, I rushed to collect the shovel laying near-by before starting to dig.

To be continued...

Takes deep breath Well? what do you think? The next chapter will be the last so I hope you've enjoyed! Please review!