SHERLOCK I, II, III & IV • #wattys2016

The Text

“Hello, Sherlock, you all right?” came John’s voice from the doorway.

Sherlock took a slow breath as he listened to John’s keys clatter onto the mantel piece and then the orderly clip in John’s steps approached him.

The voice shuddered in Sherlock’s ear. “I’ve sent it.”

Sherlock looked over his shoulder and waited to hear John’s mobile signal a text. However, the familiar beep failed to sound. Sherlock’s brow crinkled and his mouth swiveled side to side in confusion.

“I’m turning in, Sherlock.”

“John,” the detective began in an understanding voice before his friend cut him off.

“We’ll talk in the morning.” The doctor’s footsteps faded and the sound of a door closing left Sherlock alone again.

Curious that the doctor hadn’t received the text, Sherlock looked at the calendar and then the time. It was Friday, eleven o’clock. John always charged his phone on Friday before the weekends. Sighing, Sherlock collapsed onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. “What did you say in the text?”

“You’ll see when I return your phone. Speaking of your phone, Lestrade called ten times about different cases and questions.”

Sherlock shot up and gave his attention to the stranger. “I’m assuming you brushed him off just to irritate me.”

“Exactly. That’s why I love you, Mr. Holmes, you rarely call, and always text. So, any text I send to anyone from your phone, they’ll believe it’s you. And no worries, Lestrade probably won’t want to speak to you in months!”

The detective’s teeth grinded together and his fists squeezed so hard that his nails broke his skin. He wanted to think of something ferocious and witty to scare the stranger with, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know what threat would frighten a man who was strong enough to destroy everything that was important to him. Sherlock, determined to show he wasn’t a coward, reached up to the earpiece and made to remove it.

Sadly, the shocking shriek raged through his skull, and no matter how hard he tried to fight it, the louder it became until he heard a ‘pop’ in his ear. Stopping, Sherlock listened to his surroundings. The static from the radio crackled in his ear and a low hum filled the atmosphere. He placed a soft hand over his rigged ear and felt a cold, sticky trickle on his jawline.

“Don’t worry, it’ll heal. Maybe next time, you’ll leave it be.”

Enraged, Sherlock jumped to his feet and began searching his room for the security cameras. He looked in the corners, in the rug, on the bed, and behind picture frames. It was when he wanted to give up did he finally spot the security cameras.  Leaning in close to the portrait, he saw they had replaced the screws. Smiling, Sherlock made to cover it up before the voice boomed in his ears.

“Na ah! Don’t touch those; I specifically had Mrs. Hudson put those in—all over the house!”

“How did you convince her?”

“I did it with a smile, forged credentials, and saying you ensured it. She believed me instantly.”

“A master of disguise, aren’t you? You also planted cameras that night the ape was in the palace, right?” Sherlock whispered, picking at his lip thoughtfully.  He shook a fist in anger. “Why didn’t I think about that when I saw the portrait had been moved in the foyer?”

 “You are to stay in Baker Street until I say you’re to perform. You try to leave, I’ll kill everyone you’ve ever cared about. And it’ll be easy because, there’ll only be one killer to keep track of.”