Devil Take The Hindmost •Sequel To Life Is But A Dream•

•The Reichenbach Fall: Part Seven•

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Le Damnation Of Faust

The sky was a dull shade of blue and grey when I exited the cab, following my hurried uncle and his companion.
We entered the doors to Lestrade's division, instantly needing the Detective Inspector. He held a paper in his hand, clearly intent on meeting up with us, by the look on his face.
"This fax arrived about an hour ago." He said, walking with Sherlock. Once he had read it, he handed it to John. This was when I saw what it said, in scrawled, capital letters:

HURRY UP, THEY'RE DYING!!!

"We need to find a place in the city where these things intersect." Sherlock told Lestrade, and before I can hear any more, my phone buzzes. I ignore it, proceeding behind my uncle as Sherlock hands Lestrade a paper with the list of compounds.
"Chalk, brick dust, asphalt, vegetation, and- what the hell is this- chocolate?" He asked his friend.

We turned a corner into a much wider area, where Lestrade began to consult with one of his workers. I stood awkwardly as Sherlock finished speaking with the Detective Inspector, only to snap up in posture and look aimlessly at the wall. I could then tell he was diving into the Mind Palace.

"This could take a while." I told no one, and took out my phone, still vibrating. What was strange was that there was absolutely nothing on the screen: just the picture of me and my uncle from many years ago, having fun at a circus. Not the one that tried to kill him, no. It was before he left. I saw in the background how the grey clouds were inferior to the vibrant colours and aura of the fairground.

"Aspen, come on." John said, pushing the phone down and taking my wrist.
"What?" I asked, suddenly being pulled by my uncle.
"We've got them." Lestrade said, and it seemed that the whole of Scotland Yard was following.

Outside I hurried into Lestrade's car, with John and Sherlock followed closely behind.
*
We drove off to where it seemed like the crossroads of civilisation and isolation; where there were buildings that were both abandoned and inhabited. My uncle tossed me a flashlight as we hopped out, my braids flying behind and hitting the brown jumper I wore.
When we burst in, My heart nearly stopped.
"Spread out!" Sally Donovan ordered as John, Sherlock, Lestrade and the rest of his crew scurried about like bugs.

It was dank and dark, the smell of vegetation and water in the thick air. Just the atmosphere was dreadful.
"Aspen, go. Don't just stand there and be useless." Sally demanded, and proceeded forward. The doors closed behind us, and soon all there was in the warehouse was myself and the distant chatter of the detectives. A thrilling chill soared down my spine as I covered my mouth with the sleeve of my jumper.

It's in darkness that the depressing thoughts began to billow-
"No, Aspen. You've done good today." I said to myself, then as soon as I stopped, a clank was heard to my left. I turned to look on, gesturing my flashlight in the direction, and began to walk towards a figure.
I wasn't more than three feet when it ran off into a hallway with flickering lights. Like the movies, almost. I turned off my flashlight and proceeded. Under my foot was a crinkle, and I raised it to see an aluminium wrapper. Almost like those for candy. Looking on, I saw a trail of them, leading deeper into this factory. As what Sherlock would do, I followed it.

I was halfway when the lights flickered one last time before going out. A hand coiled around my mouth, and the smell of mint gum was in the air.
"Sh sh shhh." I heard, the sound of my quickening pulse nearly drowning it out. The man dragged me to the end of the hallway before turned deeper into the maze, I actively resisted, but he was stronger than me, both physically and mentally.

"I don't have much time, so let me make this quick." The sly Irish accent of Jim Moriarty began. My heart was nearly beating out of my chest at this point. We had reached a dead end, with just a door. It was locked, more than likely, so I didn't bother opening it when he threw me down. The holes in my jeans were merciless, giving a graze to my knee. Water on the ground didn't help when I put my hands out in front of me, so I slipped. Immediately, I turned around and he threw something at me.

"Since Sherlock is more than likely going to solve this one, let me make you an offer. Let's start our own game, shall we? I mean sooner or later you're going to need someone who doesn't think you're completely off the rail. An ally, if you will." The villan proposed, walking closer to me. I picked up the object he threw at me, seeing it as a watch. Not just any normal one: it had a silver band, with a deep maroon face and dashes that were a pearly white. In disgust, I threw the watch at his feet.
"I'm not doing anything for you." I spat. As if in slow motion, Moriarty grabbed my arm and jerked me up so fast I thought I heard something pop. As soon as I was standing, he whipped up my sleeve to expose my scars, both the old and the new ones.

"Look at them! They know what you're capable of. If you're so heartless and cold to harm yourself, who's to say you haven't done it to others? Pathetic. Don't make me look stupid. You're doing so well." He scolded. Still holding my arm with his cold hand, he picked up the watch and put it on my wrist, the clock aligned with my palm and facing my eyes.
"They'll turn on you, and you know it. Even your friend, who you've kept blissfully ignorant." He stated.

"Damn you." I uttered, feeling a massive weight inside my core. If he wasn't still holding me up, I'd have collapsed.

"You've got sixteen hours to think about what I've said here, right now." He began, setting the watch on my wrist. His finger slipped, brushing the newest horizontal scar, no more than three days old.
"I thought I was in your way." I challenged, and the man looked up at me, taking this moment as a free card, I jerked my hand out of his grasp and kicked him in the core. I pulled up my sleeve, seeing the current time: fifteen after seven. He stumbled back, but then pushed me into the door. It opened, and I fell on my spine, the bright green grass up to my nose.

All I heard was the door closing, and before I knew it, my uncle was hovering over me, his voice drowned out by a rapid beating heart. His face was relieved in the setting sun. It began to get blurry as the sky darkened.
"...aspen, you've been in there for ages. We found the children- aspen!" Was all I heard before a physical darkness took me. I could've sworn that in the commotion, Moriarty's voice was heard.