AN: Not sure when I'm going to update next... sorry!

2a

Posted by John H. Watson

Just A Little Notice

I know I said I'd update when Sherlock gets back… But he hasn't. It's been three weeks since he left, and I've only heard from him once. I'm getting worried..
Maybe I'm just paranoid, he's probably forgotten to text me that the case will take longer than he thought it would.. So that he'll be home late..
Oh, who knows with him… I'll see if he's contacted Lestrade later…

Posted at: 29/1/2011 at 14:05pm

13 comments

If you are truly beginning to turn paranoid, please ring me, John.
E Thompson 29 February 14:29

Well. At least we… I mean you… have had a bit more freedom =D
Sarah Sawyer 29 February 14:39

True.. true.. see you tonight?
John Watson 29 February 14:45

Sure, usual place at 6?
Sarah Sawyer 29 February 14:48

Yeah, see you then!
John Watson 29 February 14:50

Haven't heard from him, sorry. Thought I'd let you know now, to save you the hassle of calling.
Lestrade 29 February 14:53

Oh, thanks, I wonder how he is… I'm gonna try calling him..
John Watson 29 February 15:03

Hmm.. He's not picking up..
John Watson 29 February 15:28

The slumped figure trembled as the phone lit up once more, abandoned in the centre of the small cell. The faint light illuminated his alabaster skin, revealing his captors torturous art. The once pale skin was now stained blood-red, adorned with the heavy colourings of bruises, and of the deep cuts and burns from the previous games from just not that long ago.
He was gagged, bound, and naked, tied helplessly to the floor. He groaned as he pulled weakly against the cold metal that held him in place, trying to reach out for the phone; his only way in communicating to the outside world, for help. But it was no use. He collapsed, sighing, it was pointless, why waste the energy he had left? So instead, he stared intensely towards the phone, willing it to come to him.. almost begging… please…
The sound of a door creaking open interrupted his thoughts as it echoed eerily within the stone room. He began to whimper, pressing himself up against the wall in vain to hide from his captor. Footsteps followed, growing louder.. louder… Louder…

Then it stopped.

Silence…

'click'

He froze, horror spreading across his battered features as the door-handle suddenly burst to life as it was shaken with such a manic force. The door slammed open, and light burst brightly into the cell, revealing a tall silhouette examining a large butchers knife.

"Why, my dear Sherlock, are you ready to play some more?"
unknownuser 29 February 16:38

I'm sorry… what?
Harry Watson 29 February 16:40

That's just weird.. Why's the freak in your… 'story'?
sallydonovan 29 February 16:45

Hello?
sallydonovan 29 February 16:50

Um... Right. I think you've posted this is the wrong place... This is a blog.. my blog.. not some.. story thing...
John Watson 29 February 16:58