Sherlock story
Deleted Memories, Chapter 50 Less- Graphic
Warning: post Reichenbach spoilers. Hope you enjoy
***Author note: I both was asked, and felt that it was necessary to explore what Sherlock went through during his abduction. This is that attempt. ***
For this chapter there is a more intense version available click on the previous chapter marked,GRAPHIC CHAPTER 50.
Thanks for commenting it lets me know how I'm doing.
WARNING: This chapter is rated T, however it still have descriptions of captivity and, torture. I have attempted to make it less graphic. If you are
sensitive on the subject you may still want to skip and resume later, Read the warnings. I always try to tell you if the chapters contain anything outside
of my normal writing style. There is an alternate chapter, title MORE-GRAPHIC CHAPTER 50.
Choose which version of the chapter is best for you. Thank and LoL.
**Rating T**
If you're going through hell, keep going. ~Winston Churchill
Deleted Memories of Abduction
The next day, Sherlock heard heavy steps approaching. There was an urgency to their steps. Something was different. Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes, preparing. "Phase-two," he whispered to the air while reopening his eyes
It was a blitz attack. Two fast punches to the abdomen in quick succession. He lost the little bit of food and water he managed to consume on someone's boot. Serves them right, he thought before the offended individual punched him in anger. He heard Novák laughing at the other guard. He then felt another cut open up on his cheek to add to his collection.
While he was gasping for breath and choking, his head was roughly retched back. He felt a searing pain as an unknown substance was injected into his body. His body slumped barely able to move.
His world tumbled and spin. Sherlock felt disoriented. It was difficult to tell which way was up, and which way was down. Everything intensified and not in a good way. Every sound was perfectly clear, but too loud. Every sight was perfectly clear and focused but felt overwhelming and too bright.
His body was hypersensitive to pain. The slightest touch felt like a slap, a punch was much more painful than normal. The pain from every cut and bruise intensified greatly. He opened his mouth to groan, but no discernible sound came, only strangling noises and grunts.
The worst part was that his eyes were fully opened, he was fully alert and fully aware of everything that was happening.
He was roughly dragged from his room to another place. It was a large opened area with small equipment scattered throughout. His handcuffed hands were put on an overhead hook. His head hung down, his feet did not quite touch the floor. He felt as if his arms from his shoulders were disconnecting.
With difficulty, he tried to push the pain aside and take in his surroundings. He processed a few things. First, he was in a room he had never been in before. Second, they had not bothered to use blindfolds, blinding light, or any disguise.
Someone spoke; female.
He saw her shoes first. Nice shoes.
She roughly jerked his head up by his hair to look in her eyes. The movement caused intense pain to his scalp.
She waited for his breathing to calm, as she looked him over from head to feet.
In any other situation, he would have described her as attractive. She was dressed in a dark brown designer suit. She had hazel eyes and light brown hair that was pulled back neatly into a long ponytail. A lab jacket completed the picture.
Of course, Sherlock thought, would not want to get blood on such a nice suit. She looked like some scientist in a laboratory until you looked in her eyes.
They were void of all compassion, of any humanity. They were calculating. You could almost see death.
He deduced that she in fact was a scientist, however disgraced. She was originally from the Czech Republic, although some time was spent in the States. He deduced that she was in fact a brilliant psychopath with homicidal tendencies. In other words, crazy and deadly.
She spoke perfect English with a thick Czech accent.
"Do you like my cocktail? I'm quite proud of it."
She unbuttoned his shirt rubbing the material between her fingers, "Nice shirt," she said conversationally, "you can always tell quality."
"Too bad it's ruined… so hard to get blood out." She walked to a table and removed something. She walked back.
She peeled back too jellylike pads and put them on opposite sides of Sherlock's chest. She looked in his eyes. Sherlock knew what it was, his breathing picked up. When she saw recognition in his eyes, she smiled and ran her fingernail callously down the middle of his bare chest leaving a long red scratch mark. Pain rippled through his chest.
She spoke again as if they were friends having a casual conversation over lunch.
"The cocktail blocks the part of your brain responsible for voluntary movement. The part of your brain responsible for involuntary movement is not affected so the heart still beats, lungs pull in air, and eyes blink."
She nodded and was handed a pair of thick cream-colored gloves. "It inflamed the nerves temporarily that are responsible for sensation. In short it intensifies pain… greatly."
She attached two metal clips with two long intertwined bundles that ran to a machine that was off to the corner.
"I'm still working the bugs out," she frowned and for one brief moment looked almost… innocent. Like a child that had a broken toy and was trying to fix it, "its effect does not last long; some of my customers prefer the ability of their guests to scream." She shrugged slightly as though apologizing.
She nodded and someone in the background pulled a switch. A loud hum filled the room.
Sherlock breathing quickened.
She then continued the monolog.
"The last effect was unexpected; it seems to pull up every unpleasant memory or fear."
"Is there anything you fear, anything you'd rather forget?" She kissed him almost tenderly on the lips. "You really are quite beautiful. See I am kind, I'm doing you a favor; the pads will keep your skin from blistering or burning. Sorry they also intensify the pain."
She kissed him again, more roughly this time. "My employer has asked you politely some questions, you really have been uncooperative. I know your mind is clear and fully active so take this time to think about it. No reason to keep you when you answer, you'll be let go."
They both knew it was a lie.
Suddenly, she hit him hard enough to snap his head back. Pain exploded and flashes of light, he could not even groan.
Chocking, gagging noises were all that he could produce.
The scientist move toward him again. Sherlock wanted to move away but was paralyzed. Only his eyes could see her. Sherlock tried to prepare himself but she did not strike him. Instead, she kissed him gently almost passionately.
She caressed his cheeks gently saying, "A nyní začínáme." (And now we begin)
She stepped back.
For the first time since being captive, Sherlock felt fear.
She locked eyes with his.
She smiled.
Another switch was pulled and Sherlock's eyes rolled back, his body jerked, and contracted, his heart hammered in his chest. He made barely audible gagging noises.
His world was pain; nothing existed outside of that world. He tried to escape to his mind, his palace; but the pain would always drag him back.
In his mind he railed, shouted, cursed; but it never made it past his lips. Finally, he screamed, repeatedly, blood-curdling screams.
Sherlock's only consolation was that no one could hear.
Sorry everyone the worse is over, um, you do know I am lying, right. :(
Comment please. Love of Love. :)