The Price at the Warehouse

For the rest of the walk towards the warehouse, I was left alone. Neither Sherlock, nor the men trying to kill me, came within seeing distance. But I knew they were all there.

As I got closer to the warehouse, the population got scarcer. When I turned down the final street that was on the map Jim stuffed in my pocket, there were no cars or people in sight. The warehouse was all the way down the street. It loomed over the other dilapidated buildings, and sent off a freaky vibe. I got a chill down my spine, but I continued towards it.

I reached for the rusty doors of the building, and gripped the handles. I took a deep breath before I yanked them open. Inside the warehouse, there was a sliver of light that pierced through a broken window. It illuminated the floor, which was covered in scraps of metal. There were thick chains hanging from the ceiling, and a conveyor belt that went in a circle. I picked up a sharp piece of metal, and stood in the middle of the warehouse to wait for my attackers. The front door creaked open a minute later. I tensed, and waited for them to get into throwing range. The man stepped into the light, and I relaxed when I saw it was Sherlock. He walked towards me at a briskly.

"Emily, there's something wrong. No one was following you here. In fact, I didn't even see anyone around Jim's home. It's a trap. We need to leave." He said, taking my wrist.

"Well done Sherlock." Came a voice from the darkness. "I'm surprised you figured it out. Jim always did talk highly of your skills."

"Who's there?! Show yourself!" Sherlock demanded, as he pushed me behind him and pulled his gun out.

"You don't recognize me? Oh, right. Because I never talked when you were around." A man wearing a black cloak stepped into the light, and took his hood off. "Do you see me now Sherlock?"

Before us stood Jim's butler, and he pulled out a gun from his cloak. He held it up to us.

"Now I'll make this simple. Hand over Emily, and I'll give you John and Jim back." He said, coming closer.

"What if I don't?" Sherlock said, as he positioned himself in front of me.

"Well, then I kill all four of you. You have ten seconds Sherlock. I don't have all day."

"Why do you want to kill her?" Sherlock asked, his gun still pointed.

"Oh, I thought you'd know! Once I found out she was working to figure out my 'blank paper' scheme, I had to get rid of her at once. You see, anyone who got close to figuring out my murders either got killed, or paid off."

"So why not just pay us off? We won't say a thing."

"I'm not dumb Sherlock. I'm much smarter than you and Jim combined. I need to leave a trail. The more people I kill, the more people I get to kill. In fact, Emily's body will show the exact time and place that I will strike again. You should be proud. Now step aside." He said, cocking his gun.

"Never, you sick bastard." Sherlock snarled. He jumped out at the butler, and tackled him to the ground. "Run, Emily!" He yelled. I snapped out of my petrified state, and ran for the door. I grasped the rusty handle, and yanked it open. I was about to sprint out when I heard a gunshot. I stopped, and I was afraid to see if it was Sherlock who was shot. Another gunshot went off, and I went to my knees in agony. A sharp pain was in my right shoulder, and I slowly brought my hand up to touch it. My hand came back bright red. I looked down and blood was dripping to the metal floor.

"Emily!" Sherlock screamed. I heard more gunshots as I crumbled to the floor. I felt warm hands wrap around my body, and I was lifted. My eyes flicked open to see Sherlock holding me to his chest. He was running, and I couldn't tell if he was crying, or if it was raining heavily. I took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. My eyes shut, and my body went numb.