"Dear Sherlock," Moriarty replied.
Sherlock couldn't see the maniac, he just heard the voice. "I'm not here to play a game, I'm here for John."
"Oh, but it is a game," Moriarty said from his invisible speaking point. "It's all a game, isn't it?"
"Well, I'm done playing," Sherlock responded. "And I will have John back."
Moriarty chuckled. "Come and get him, sexy."
"Moriarty!" Sherlock screamed, but the psychopath had disappeared, and the consulting detective was left unguided in the large and mostly empty church.
John, meanwhile, was unconscious yet again. He wasn't badly hurt, Sebastian had just knocked him out with a clean blow to the temple. The doctor's shoulders were slumped against the wall, the rest of him curled up on the floor. The handcuffs taken off, his limp body was crumpled up in the wrong way; a way not possible had he been awake.
The lights around the doctor had been shut off when Moriarty and Sebastian left.
"Where is he?" Sherlock called, immediately beginning to search the first floor. Opening doors and slamming them shut within two seconds. I just have to find him quickly. He continued along every corridor, looking into every room. All were dim, and Sherlock was looking too quickly to really see anything anyway.
The consulting detective sprinted up the grand set of stairs, his long black coat flying behind him. Minutes ticked past as Sherlock yanked open more doors, this time leaving them ajar in his wake.
John was beginning to come around, blinking several times to clear the flashing lights from his eyes. I hear some sort of… thudding. Footsteps!
Sherlock pulled open more doors, running along the corridor.
John couldn't do anything as he saw the door open, close, and Sherlock spin out of sight for what he thought was the last time ever. He tried to find his voice, but it was too late. Only when darkness had enveloped the doctor again did he call. "Sherlock!"
But Sherlock didn't hear him. He hadn't seen him either, for John was just a small, crumpled pile against the wall of a room that the consulting detective whizzed by too fast to see. He raced along the rest of the corridor, and there was no John.
With no other option, Sherlock ran back down the stairs and nearly bumped into Moriarty.
The psychopath and his cohort, Sebastian, were in the main hall.
"Where is he? There is no John here!" Sherlock yelled.
"Yes there is…" Moriarty sang. "You just haven't searched hard enough."
"I checked every room!"
"Well, Johnny might be looking a little worse for the wear, but you still should be able to recognize him," said Moriarty.
Sherlock lunged forwards and grabbed Moriarty's coat collar. "What did you do to him?" he whispered.
"Sebastian! Shoot him!" cried Moriarty.
The gunman stood, two options running through his head. Well, I could do as Moriarty says, but I can't! I kinda had a soft spot for that little John. I could run away, find John, and get out of here. That sounds pretty good to me right now, but… Moriarty would hunt me down and find me. And Sebastian took neither option.
A gunshot rang and echoed through the halls.
Sherlock slowly opened his eyes, which he had closed in preparation for the bullet. I'm not hurt… "Ah!" He thrust Moriarty away from him.
The bullet had embedded itself in the psychopath's temple.
Sherlock turned to Sebastian, ready to take the bullet that he supposed had missed before. He closed his eyes.
"Uh, guy?" Sebastian tapped Sherlock on the shoulder. "Don't you want your John back?"
"What?" Sherlock opened one eye, surveying Sebastian. "You… You killed him. You killed Moriarty?"
"Yeah!" Sebastian sounded confused, but proud of himself.
"Bring me to John!" Sherlock cried, pulling himself away from Sebastian and whipping out his gun. "Now, show me where he is!" This man is obviously still evil… he must be trying to play a trick on me.
At gunpoint, Sebastian brought Sherlock back up the stairs and down the corridor. They passed many doors and finally, the gunman halted.
"Here?" Sherlock asked. "But I checked here and he wasn't-"
"You didn't check well enough, obviously," Sebastian interrupted, opening the fated door and flicking on the lights.