No Shit, Sherlock

Sherlock To The Rescue

It's nighttime now, Tewkesbury had already left, because he had a meeting in the morning. So, Enola and I decided to start looking through all of the local newspapers.

"Look at this!"

Enola walks over to me, holding one of the newspapers. She lays it down on the desk in front of me, and points to a section at the bottom.

"Someone's looking for help to find their missing son!"

I read over the ad, something about it seems off.

"Enola, are you sure this isn't a scam?"

She tilts her head, "Why would anyone use that as a scam? What would they gain from it?"

"Two young women," I say.

"I'll ask Sherlock to come with us."

I read over the ad again, "What time do you wanna meet?"

"We'll meet here at eight in the morning."

"Alright then, I'm gonna go home now. See ya tomorrow!"

We wave bye to each other and I begin my walk home. It's dark outside, but the lanterns are bright enough for me to see. Although, I feel like someone's following me.

I look up at the street signs, Sherlock's apartment should be around here. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I stopped by for a second, given the circumstances. Unless, he isn't home which is very likely.

Something falls over behind me, I whip around to look, but there's nothing there.

I'm definitely being followed.

I pick up my pace, there's a few people on the street, but none of them would even bat an eye if I were to be snatched right now.

"Hello, miss," a man slurs, while stumbling over to me.

I jump away from him and continue walking, the feeling of being followed is even more intense now.

Sherlock's apartment complex finally comes into view, and I waste no time in hurrying inside.

The door shuts loudly behind me, making me flinch, I look out the window before heading upstairs. I seriously hope Sherlock's home, I don't even care if he's annoyed.

The door downstairs opens and I freeze. Surely the stalker wouldn't be dumb enough to follow me into the apartment complex. Right?

I frantically knock on Sherlock's door, as the person from downstairs starts walking up the stairs. Their footsteps get closer, and my heart begins to race.

I don't even realize I'm still knocking until the door swings open.

A man steps off the stairs and into the hall, he gives me a sinister grin.

"(Y/n)? Are you okay?"

Sherlock's voice is muffled, all I can hear is my pounding heart as I stare back at the man. He raises her finger to his lips in a shushing motion, and quickly enters the room beside him.

I slowly turn back to Sherlock and his eyes widen, "What happened?"

He pulls me into his apartment, locking the door behind us. My hands shake, and my eyes dart around the living room in fear. I sit down on the couch and he sits on the coffee table in front of me.

"Can you hear me? What happened?"

My hearing finally goes back to normal and I look up to see a man standing behind Sherlock.

The man notices me staring at him and smiles, "I'm Dr. John Watson, Sherlock's flatmate. You must be (Y/n)."

"It's nice to meet you. Sorry, I'm not normally like this," I reply meekly.