Brokenness. Despair. Misery—this was all I could feel now. There was no happiness or joy anymore. There was only brokenness, despair, and misery.I was sitting with my back against the cold wall. Curled up into a ball to keep from being attacked by one of my kidnappers. I was terrified that they might start beating me again. I was feeling so broken on the inside, sometimes I just started crying from imagining dying in this prison cell. My hands and ankles were shackled with heavy, metal chains. I had eaten nothing since my abduction. I had almost lost enough weight to slip right out of my restraints, not that I ever would, I was far too afraid.
Jim Moriarty was an evil, evil man. Sherlock would have countered that he was not a man, he was a spider. Moriarty loved to see me scream and cry in pain. I could hear his wicked laugh when I had a panic attack in the silence of the night. His horrible smile haunted me every time I closed my tired eyes.
I hadn't seen Moriarty in person since before Sherlock's death. I had spoken to him on the phone, and seen videos of him, but he'd never physically hurt me, he didn't like getting his hands dirty.
The room they had confined me to was small and damp. Mold was everywhere. And there were no windows, making the room very dim in the daytime, and pitch dark at night. Not that I knew the difference, it felt as if I had been there for years. And I had forgotten whether it was day or night.
Abruptly, I felt a stabbing pain in my right leg because I had been shot there. Though the kidnappers had fixed it up, they continually beat me and tortured me, leaving my body weak and my hopes of being rescued shattered.
The metal door to my tiny prison slowly opened, and Hugh, one of the kidnappers, appeared. He walked up to me, and looked down.
"Please...no." I managed to whisper. I had been crying a lot lately, and I didn't trust my voice to work properly.
Hugh grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me upward. He forced me out of the room to the largest room in the warehouse. My legs failed me and Hugh had to help me walk. He threw me down in front of a man.
I looked up to see that, in person, Moriarty was staring down at me. He smugly laughed and started walking away. Suddenly, the soldier inside of me caused me to jump up off the ground and start running after him. Two men captured me before I could reach him, and Moriarty didn't even seem to notice me. He just kept walking until he had disappeared down a hallway.
I was dragged backwards by Hugh and Glen. They ripped my shirt and jacket off of me and I was positioned under a metal beam. I struggled and fought to get away. But Glen was easily able to hold me in place, as Hugh quickly subdued me, tying my hands to the beam over my head. He tied my feet together as well. My feet were barely able to reach the ground.
My situation became quite clear to me, as a woman wearing dark sunglasses and a black dress walked in. She carried with her, a long whip. This wasn't the kind of whip one might use for riding a horse. This was the kind that people used on horses that pulled carriages. It was made of leather, very painful.
Hugh and Glen gave me pitying looks. Then they ran away, leaving me alone with the woman with the whip. I had a pretty good idea of what she was going to do with the whip.
The woman slowly walked over. "This is going to hurt." she warned me, not that I had been thinking otherwise.
She slowly wandered around behind me, and I braced myself, knowing that I was about to be beaten again. The painful leather whip hit my back, I felt my blood start spilling out. She waited a few seconds, probably so I could soak in the pain, then hit me again, harder.
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Saving John Watson (BBC Sherlock fanfic)
FanfictionEver since Sherlock Holmes jumped from the top of London's Bart's Hospital, his best friend, John Watson, has been deeply depressed. Sherlock, (who had gone into hiding), has made no plans to come back. But a series of coded letters cause his whole...