His Return and Her Fall ((Parent!Lock))

Chapter Ten - A Dance with Destiny

"You'll be sleeping here now," someone unknown to the girl directs. Long legs bruised and scarred, as Haley notices of herself, nods as she looks into the rather comfortable looking room. Wow, really? Kill my father then spoil me? With a deep sighs, lip trembling a bit, she walks in as the door gets closed behind her, hearing the everlasting click of it being locked from the outside. Also knowing there were cameras strewn about the corners, including in the bathroom, she simply sits on the bed and pushes her curls free of her pale, reddened-with-tears face. 

The sheets were soft, really soft, and that was only the comforter. What time was it? Twenty-four hundred? She couldn't tell, for she was too tired. Her blue eyes glance to the dresser and she decides to get her fine ass up and look about her new home-away-from-home. The dresser was of oak, hand crafted and furnished lovingly with carvings of bears and guns. How appropriate. The handles were cast iron and were painted at the edges with amazingly careful hands with red paints that swirled like Starry Night. 

She puts a finger, cut just below the nail, to the handle and pulls it, revealing a note and soft, luscious, silk dressings and gowns. There were suits, underwear, lacy panties and bras, but those were in different drawers. Taking the note carefully, she sits back down at the foot of the bed and reads it with her heart as still as the dead. Better not think about dead people, but it was sort of like it.

"Dearest Haley Jane, seems like I am dead. But, never shall you cry over me. John and Hamish know I love them very much. Moriarty won't care of my burial. He's going to leave that to Irene and Sarah. Know they are taking care of John and Hamish and know that I will love you forever onward. You are my daughter, and you better love me back because I lost my virginity to that wicken for you. -Sherlock Holmes"

She didn't care her tears were running down her face again. There as still blood caked to her hands, her face dirty with sweat and filth of her fears. Her hands were shaking and she couldn't even bear it anymore. A scream, more like a screech, emerges from her, shaking her body heavily as it pierces through the room. Her throat burned with a passion she had never felt before as the blood started to choke her. She had screamed so hard, so meaningful that it tore her throat open and was causing her to drown in her own blood.

Coughing, hacking, she falls to the floor and pukes it all up. All of the fish she had in the morning, the tea, the sugar-free candies, everything. Including the blood that was still being coughing up at the moment. Her mind buzzes as she grabs the bed post, hoisting herself up with her might. Thankfully it was a hard-wood floor, just like home. But, the boards didn't creak in the right places. In fact, they didn't creak at all. 

"Miss Holmes," someone says, startling her to her other foot which she had raised to take a step. Looking tot he door, it was Dalton, his face bruised just like her own. "Miss Holmes, you are needed in the ball room. Makeup is provided for you in the washroom and you may choose your dress. I will send for someone to clean your mess off of the floor and Dr. Lovelady will examine you in a later time."

"Dal-Dalton?" she asks, stumbling to the door to see him. He was wearing something like her won outfit, but more usher-ish. "Dalton! Answer me!"

"If I speak out of line I will be shot."

"Dalton!" she screams at him, pushing his shoulder. 

"If I speak out of line I will be shot," he repeats, looking to the floor and not looking to her, well, until she spoke in Itialin. Itialin was their little code talk, and no one really knew it bu them, and Lela, of course.

"Dalton, ti prego, ascoltami," she says, grabbing the both of his shoulder and licking away the blood and puke from her lips. Hopefully he wouldn't care.