It Started With Thieving | Sherlock Holmes

7 - Spilled Blood

Warnings - Grief/trauma with regards to Hanna mentioned.

As always, maybe bring tissues and enjoy.

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Sweltering sunlight shot through the bars of the suffocating sandstone cell window. Dust hung in the air, twinkling against the shadow, and breath, hot, condensating breath brushed the back of her neck.

"Look at her."

Her eyes were shut but she knew where she was.

She could tell by the sticky heat and by the kicked up particles of sand that entered her lungs. The only difference was that he was there too. They were all there.

"Open your eyes, go on, look at her. Look at him. Look at me."

His Irish accent pryed her eyes open unwillingly. Never did she seem to be lucid enough to control this action and God she wished she could because every time her gaze settled on her Hanna, reanimated, she cried out. Pain crushed her chest as she would gasp out her desire to be with her adopted daughter again.

Shaun stood next to Hanna this time, someone who she thought she had moved on from. But he stood with her, dead but alive in her subconscious.

Jim strolled around, in front of her line of sight and glimpsing the back of his head, she almost retched at the horrible sight. He laughed, moving to the left of Hanna, staring at her manically, disappointedly, amused by her turmoil.

"We all could have lived if it were not for you." Jim said, pouting, "Look at what you've done to us."

"My brother wouldn't be alone if it weren't for you messing around with that detective." Shaun said.

Hanna said, "I would still be alive if I hadn't met you."

"It's not true." She croaked, "It's not true."

"All you had to do was stay with me, Lizzie, and none of this would've happened." Jim cackled, "You're like a walking omen of death for crying out loud. I mean, look at this."

Behind the three of them appeared the others who had been fatally harmed after having known or met her or been involved with her in some way: Scarlett; the poor, unknown man Jim used to get a message to her; Lucetta and Daniel; Olly; Henry; the security guard at the bank; Crystal; even Cleo.

Twelve lives lost and somehow, all were lost because of her and her choices.

"Eleven was bound to come back and bite you one day," Jim said, gesturing to the evidently dead Hanna, "But I wonder what karma you'll face for twelve."

One by one, they began to fade until it was only herself, Jim and Hanna. The psychopath strolled behind her once again and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Liza! Eliza, help me!" Young Hanna stood there in the dim light and shrieked and as she did, more and more blood poured from the hole in her forehead.

"Hanna!" Came her guttural, screaming sob and she moved to help her.

But Jim kept her in the spot she stood.