My Conductor of Light

A Strange Green Liquid

I awoke with violent jolt. Upon opening them I discovered I had functioning eyes. I blinked a few times and my surroundings came into focus. And I have to do a double take. I seemed to be suspended in a large tank filled with a strange green liquid. A tube of some kind was in my mouth that I assumed was allowing me to breathe. I didn't mess with it.

I tried to piece together the fragments of memories running through my head, confusing me. I remembered being on the phone with John, falling, falling, falling. And then... PAIN! So blinding and instantaneous was the pain that I lost consciousness for a moment. When I came to once more, the pain was gone and replaced with a dull, aching throb.

I heard a noise behind me and I turn- as much as I can, anyway. The liquid is thick, like jelly and my head still swam and ached. Another surprise awaited me when I turned. I tried to call out, "Molly?" But the tube in my mouth made it impossible.

"Sherlock! You're finally awake! Oh, gosh..." she says with obvious astonishment. "You weren't supposed to wake up for ages! Granted, you've been asleep for three years..."

Three years! Finally awake? What's going on?! I decide to try sign language to speak with Molly. W-h-a-t i-s g-o-i-n-g o-n? I spell out. She understands.

"You died. Three years ago. From today, in fact. With funding from... an anonymous source, I discovered a way to get your heart working again, and therefore bring you back to life."

This is a lot to take in. Obviously. I reel back slightly and then wonder...

W-h-e-r-e I-s J-o-h-n? I ask.

She swallows hard. Then she pulls something out of her coat and holds it up. A newspaper comes into my line of vision. I discreetly check the date and feel my heart drop.

It was three years ago today that I...

No. Worry about John. Not something that happened in the past.

The headline screams that a woman, a therapist to be exact, was found dead just last night. With a growing feeling dread, I read on.

The murder weapon was a pistol. Just like John carries around everywhere. A coincidence? I want to assume it is, but assuming things is dangerous.

W-h-o-s s-p-o-n-s-o-r-i-n-g y-o-u?

I ask.

"I... can't tell you that." She says, backing away.

P-l-e-a-s-e? I ask.

"It's J-" she bursts out. Suddenly I hear a muffled gun shot and she falls forward against the glass, obviously dead.

Molly! I reach out to touch her but my fingers just hit the glass. I shook my head. Sentiment. A chemical defect often found on the losing side. Oh, how I hate it. It makes you weak and especially now I can't be.

Who is J? My mind immediately jumps to Jim Moriarty... for obvious reasons. For now, though, I should probably just stick with figuring out a way to escape this warehouse and this tube filled with a strange green liquid.