Shots

Chapter One - Sherlocked - Part Four

The gallery had been closed for some time now, preparing for the big reveal of its newest addition. You, Sherlock, and John made your way silently through the criss crossing corridors, down hallway after hallway. You were on a golem hunt, whether you liked it or not. It was already eerie in the empty building, never mind the fact that a giant was in the area.

            To keep your mind off the thought, you took every instant you could to look a painting over. From the heavy, thoughtful strokes of Van Gogh to the mind-boggling works of Picasso. Each painting begged you to stay, a magnet of curiosity pulled you towards them but the magnet of Sherlock and John was stronger. You’d slow down to look at one and when they got so far away you had to dash forward to stay with them. Even though you loved the idea of browsing the gallery for hours, this was definitely not the time to do so.

            After what seemed like an eternity of wondering, Sherlock picked up on something and took off running. John groaned with his sudden burst of speed and signaled you to follow him. As you followed, you paid close attention to the signs. Sherlock was leading you towards the planetarium. A giant pair of doors loamed just ahead. John met up with Sherlock at the doors and pulled at them with all his might; the doors wouldn’t budge. Sherlock’s frustration emerged and a haunting scratching of sounds was heard on the opposite side of the wall.

            A brilliant thought shot through your head and you ran like a mad woman away from the doors. “There’s always a back door.” You thought as you skidded around a corner. Like a dream, the hallway moved opposite of you, letting you fly down its length and safety slide to a stop at the end of the hall. You breathed heavily as you walked down the hall towards another set of double doors, opening to the other side of the planetarium. Placing your hands on the doors, you tried to push them open but, to no avail, the door was blocked.

            Through what you were able to push open, you could see a large trunk blocking the doors. You looked up and saw the large screen where images were to be projected. All that was on the screen now was the large, dark shadow of the man known as Golem. His large body was far enough away that there wasn’t much room left on the screen for anything other than his terrifying silhouette.

            Long arms wrapped themselves around you as Sherlock hastily pulled you away from the doors. He gently placed you to the side and his composer changed viciously as he kicked the doors open. The trunk in front of the door tumbled away and the doors slammed into the walls on either side of them as Sherlock walked inside with haste.

            John pulled out his handgun and followed Sherlock in. You followed the both of them and as soon as Sherlock got out onto the stage he yelled, “Golem!” His deep voice carried loudly throughout the room and the golem looked up at the sound of his name. He released the woman he had been attacking, a sound and lighting tech, and disappeared as her hand slide down the panel and the lights flickered.

            You found yourself holding your breath as the lights slowly turned on and off, knowing Golem was getting nearer and nearer every second. John quickly ran across the stage and into the seating area to turn the lights back on at the panel. Sherlock’s head twisted and turned as he looked for Golem.

            As John found the lights and flipped the switch, the rainbow of spotlights hit the stage and Golem was suddenly behind Sherlock. The over 7’ foot man towered over Sherlock and his monstrous hands clasped themselves over his mouth. Planets and stars flashed across the stage as Golem shook Sherlock and John ran out with his gun aimed at Golem.

            John threatened to shoot him if he didn’t release Sherlock. Golem threw Sherlock violently to the side and went for John. Eyes wide, you remembered to breath and your legs made you run to Sherlock’s side. You knelt down and quickly helped him up. You knew you had no change against a man the size of Golem and you had to help somehow.

            Sherlock stood once more and went to John’s aid, ripping him out of the beast’s grasp. As John got free, Golem pushed Sherlock back down but he was right back on his feet, challenging Golem to a fist fight. Sherlock swung at him but he blocked and brought his heavy arm down on Sherlock’s shoulder, sending him onto the stage floor, breathless. His hands, once more, covered Sherlock’s mouth in an attempt to end the fighting and get away.

            As Sherlock grew weak, John came to his rescue and jumped on Golem’s back, tying his arms around his neck and legs around his torso. When Golem pulled John off his back and slid him off the stage. Now was your time to act, Golem couldn’t get away.

            With all the courage you could muster, you dashed at the man twice your size at least, and rode on his back like John. You wrapped your arms around his neck like John had done. “Get the gun!” you commanded Sherlock. His wide eyes watched you as he quickly crawled across the stage to John’s gun. He pushed his back up against the wall and aimed at Golem.

            Sherlock’s first shot missed as Golem shifted his weight to the side, making you feel sick as you held on tight. You strained yourself to hold on tighter. As you adjusted your arms, Golem got his opening. His ice cold hands took hold of your arms and life seemed to turn to slow motion as the next events unfolded and Sherlock and John watched helplessly.

            His fingers laced around your arms with such strength that the pain caused your legs to loose grip on him. He pulled his arms up in an arch, over his head, and towards the ground. Like a ribbon attached to a dancer’s wand, your limp body followed with a silent scream.

            Reality soon returned with a violent crash. Sounds were playing once more and the impact took you out with its sound. The sound was you, hitting the ground with tremendous force; a thud and a crack. Your eyes burst open as pain shot throughout your whole body. A barely audible scream escaped your lips as your eyes squeezed shut once more and you curled up a little.

            Sherlock suddenly was back in the action, cocking his gun and aiming at Golem as he escaped, missing him once more as he paced the panel and through the double doors. A furious Sherlock slammed the gun he held into the floor before getting up. John had pulled himself up onto the stage and by your side; Sherlock noticed and came to your other side.

            “What’s the damage?” Sherlock asked John. John shook his head before answering.

            “She has a broken collar bone.” He said pointing. “Here,” He touched once spot, “And here.” He touched another. You winced at each touch.

            “Wrap her up with this.” Sherlock told John as he took his scarf off and handed it to him. John carefully took it from him and skillfully wrapped up your arms to support the collar bone. Sherlock whipped out his phone and began texting Lestrade as he handed his jacket over to you to hold. Before you could take it, John grabbed it and helped you up before placing it over your shoulders.

            A few minutes later, you were with Sherlock, John, Lestrade, and Miss Wenceslas, the Art Gallery Curator, in the new exhibit hall. Sherlock was on his phone, trying to deduce how the painting in front of him was a fake. Soon you heard numbers, counting down from ten by a little boy and you tried to keep your weary eyes open. As Sherlock yelled the answer to the puzzle and the boy asked from rescue, you drifted off to sleep.