John groaned and slowly opened his eyes, to discover that the only thing he could see was darkness. His initial instinct was to panic and that's exactly what he began to do. Had he gone blind? Where was he? It took a moment for his jumbled mind to process that he was blindfolded and the blackness was just the color if the cloth over his eyes. Relived that he hadn't suddenly gone blind, John tried to see if he was able to move his hands to remove the obstruction from his face. As he expected, his hands were tightly tied behind him. Alright, he thought to himself, let's try the feet then. Again, he was not at all surprised to find that his ankles had been firmly tied together. John attempted to sigh and discovered that he had also been gagged and was not able to utter even a sigh of frustration.

So John resorted to the only useful sense left at his disposal at the moment. He leaned backwards some and felt a cold wall press up against his shoulders blades. Moving his hands as much as he could, he found that the floor was as equally hard and cold. This floor was also extremely uncomfortable. John tried to shift his weight some to get into a more comfortable position.

Might as well try to make myself comfy, he thought, I'm probably going to be here for quite some time. He closed his eyes, leaned his head back against the wall, and dozed.

John was rudely awakened from his peaceful slumber by the sound of a door creaking open on rusty hinges. This sound was followed shortly after by the sound of shoes clacking on a hard floor. Gradually the footsteps got closer and closer to where John sat hunched awkwardly against the wall. After a short amount of time this sound stopped and was replaced by silence. John tilted his head up expectantly and waited to be addressed by this mysterious intruder.

"Doctor Watson, I presume," Said a deep grainy voice emanating from a space somewhere to his left.

"Hmmiff." Was all John was able to say in response with the gag hindering his ability of speech.

"My guess is that you have a few choice words for me." The voice stated knowingly.

John managed to nod his head and waited to see if this stranger would ever actually say anything of importance.

"Now I have brought you here - or rather my employer has - for one reason and one reason only." The voice continued. "If you're even slightly as smart as your reputation suggests, then I'm sure you have already figured out what that reason is."

John nodded again.

"Very good," The voice said emotionlessly. "Then shall we begin?"

John braced himself as he felt the sharp pain of a whip cut into his cheek. He grunted into his gag and felt something warm and wet run down the side of his face.

The cut was followed by a series of hard punches and kicks aimed at his face and legs. John just sat limply and tried not to let his torturer see how much pain he was in. After what felt like an eternity of endless blows, one particularly hard kick landed directly on his nose and he heard and felt the nose crack with a sickening crunch. He then heard his torturer grunt in approval and, seemingly pleased with his work, ceased to hurt John further.

"Now get up, you're coming with me." The deep voice stated forcefully.

John felt rough, callused hands grip his arm and haul him to his feet. His captor then proceeded to drag him across the room and through an open door.

He felt like absolute hell. His whole body hurt (his torturer had left no place unscathed) and it was taking all his willpower not to black out from the pain. He knew from his time spent in the army what was coming next, he had known as soon as he had woken up. He would first be tortured and wounded, then he would be taken to a separate location to be used as a hostage in order to get Sherlock to do some task that his torturer's employer needed, and finally after Sherlock had completed this task (because there was no doubt in his mind that Sherlock would complete it) that this employer would break his promise to let John live and he would be executed. It was a classic terrorist tactic, and was highly effective. If you needed someone to do something, all you had to do was capture someone they cared about, hold them captive, hurt them, and they will do whatever you want them to if you promise their safe return.

Quite suddenly, John was tossed to the ground and he landed face first with thud. He groaned into his gag that now tasted like blood, and rolled onto his back.

"Don't move," Said the same voice as before as he heard a gun being cocked that was, undoubtedly, aimed directly at him.

John obeyed and stayed completely still. It's not like he much energy to move even if could.

"Let's give your little boyfriend a call shall we?" The gravelly voice said with enthusiasm. And at that moment John was sure he was smiling.

And he was right. The owner of the voice had a crooked smile on his face, and he continued to smile this lopsided grin as he put the barrel of the pistol up against John Watson's head and pulled the trigger.