Moriarty was bored. He'd killed his sister, broken John, had Sherlock on edge and was unbelievably bored. What to do, what to do. He supposed he could just kill them both, but that seemed a little pre mature and even more boring. The thrill of killing his sister and watching Sherlock struggle was over, granted he was enjoying the absolute despair on John Watson's face, but this pity party wasn't going to last very long.
And then Moriarty had an idea, one that could very well extinguish his growing boredom, with one press of a button, he would have a chase, a rat in a maze, and a good few hours of watching Sherlock Holmes dance. And he did, he pressed one button and the door to the cell holding John and Sherlock opened, so the fun could begin.
Sherlock however, was busy focused on keeping John awake rather than thinking about any other mind games Moriarty could be planning.
"John!" Sherlock called for the fifth time when he noticed the army doctor's eyelids drooping "John you need to stay awake"
"I am Sherlock" John muttered, his eyes barely open "I am"
Sherlock cursed under his breath, and attempted to drag his chair closer to John, he was having little success until he hit a snag in the floor and fell over causing the wooden chairs legs to break off. Sherlock smiled, he moved himself around to the rope tying his hands together was against the splints coming off of the chair legs, using this he managed to untie himself and was finally free from Moriarty's clutches, so to speak.
"John" he said shaking the man trying to keep him away "John wake up, wake up now, we're getting out of here"
"Stop it" mumbled John, rolling over onto his side away from Sherlock, Sherlock finally had enough of this, he pulled his hand back and smacked John directly across the face, John sat up with a start.
"What the bloody hell was that for?" John shouted as best he could in his drugged state, he tried to hit Sherlock back but didn't do the best job and Sherlock easily avoided it.
"Come on, we've got to go" said Sherlock pulling John to his feet, the drugs were starting to ware off so he managed to stay him.
"She's dead Sherlock" It wasn't a question, Sherlock stopped. He turned towards his best friend, and nodded.
"Yes John, she is dead" John looked down at the cement flooring, holding his composure; he didn't want to believe it, not her, not his Maryn. She could survive anything, she was brave, she was Maryn Moriarty.
"Let's go" said John suddenly, walking out the door…with a limp.
The two of them walked down the hallway for quite some time before reaching a fork in the path, either left or right, which way? The pair chose left and continued to walk briskly down the hallway before they reached a dead end, which incidentally began moving towards them, at a very rapid pace.
The walls were moving, what a very classy trait Moriarty had given to this building, a death trap with moving walls. Sherlock and John managed to outrun the wall, and they were back at the fork in the road.
"Right then?" John half smiled, Sherlock nodded.
It wasn't long before they found a room. A room, that for some reason was filled with guns.
"What is this?" John asked Sherlock.
"I…don't know" Sherlock responded, though the room confused the both of them, they loaded themselves up with weapons and bullets, enough to sustain for a while but not so much that they would be slowed down.
It was another hour before they reached another obstacle well really it wasn't in front of them, it was behind.
Dogs can be very fearsome creatures, especially if they're oversized hounds whom haven't been fed properly in weeks, and that is what was chasing down Sherlock and John.
They ran, it was their first instinct and that's what they did, run. They ran until their legs burned but the dogs did not tire out.
"Shoot them" John breathed to Sherlock almost out of breath, Sherlock took a moment to understand exactly what John meant but after about 1.5 seconds, Sherlock reached into his pocket and pulled out the hand gun they had found in the room, and shot twice, John had done the same thing and also shot twice, four dogs were dead.
They pair took a moment to rest before they heard a faint barking far off, echoing down the dark hallways. They turned to once again start running when the roof above them opened and they were hit over the head with something heavy.
"What the hell?" John cried pushing the thing off of him, which he soon realized was a body, but it wasn't just any body.
"Maryn" he breathed in shock.
She didn't look well, her hair was tattered and had traces of blood woven in all through it, she had bite marks on her arms as well as cuts and bruises on her face, she wasn't pretty but it was most definitely Maryn Moriarty.
"But…you're dead" declared Sherlock.
"Wow detective you're good" she coughed, managing to sound extra sarcastic despite the obvious amount of pain she was in.
"Maryn" John repeated, looking at her in disbelief.
John" she said sheepishly
They heard the dogs barking again, Maryn tensed up in crippling fear.
"Run!" she spun on her heels and pulled her body forward. John and Sherlock didn't run, they stayed glued to their spot, staring at her, at her improbable existence. It didn't take her very long for her to realize she wasn't being followed and she whipped around to face them.
"John!" she said desperately "Sherlock we need to go, they're terrible they're-" she put her hand on her arm with a particularly horrid gash on it "Come on!"
"How did you survive? I watched you, I saw you" Sherlock demanded an answer. Maryn stared at him in disbelief.
"Can't we discuss this later!" she cried "Let's go before we end up dead-"
"I thought you were dead" said John flatly. She stared at him her face held an expression of regret and despair.
"I'm not"
"Yes, and how is that? How exactly did you survive that? Maybe you weren't as honest as you could have been when explaining your relationship with your brother" said Sherlock.
"I'm not a liar!" shouted Maryn.
"Temper" warned Sherlock in a patronizing tone. Maryn launched herself at him, though she was a lot smaller than him, he wasn't expecting her to attack him so he came down rather easily.
She threw her firsts at any piece of flesh she could find on Sherlock Holmes "I'll. Show. You. Temper. You. Arrogant. Bastard" every word was accompanied by a connection of her closed hand on Sherlock's body.
Next thing she knew, she had hands around her arms and she was being pulled backwards off of Sherlock.
"Let go of me!" She shrieked struggled in the arms of someone much more capable of handling her than anyone else.
"Calm down Maryn" John told her, his soothing voice aided in Maryn's ceasing in flailing arms and legs around.
The dogs sounded again.
"We need to go" she told him exhausted in her efforts. Sherlock stood up, basically uninjured except for a large red mark on the left side of his face. "I'll explain later"
They didn't have a choice. They ran.
