Lost Inferno {The LOST Chronicles, BOOK 2}

Chapter 9- Igniting The Fire

Maddy's Pov-

I was quickly awoken from my unconscious state as I felt a cool liquid being poured over me. My body felt stiff and ridged, I wasn't exactly in the most confortable of positions as I was leant, well slumped, against a cold wall. My eyes sprung open, my head was spinning, I tried to take in my surroundings. I was exactly in the last place I thought I'd be, I was at 221B. I happened to be in Sherlock's room to be more exact, handcuffed to the radiator. Great!

I looked up to see Moriarty standing straight before me, along with a grand total of five other men, he was still wearing the same suit so I was guessing I was still on the same day. He was on the phone to someone, he spoke quietly so I had a great deal of struggle to try to listen in on his conversation.

"What happens, happens. Don't mess up everything we had planned. I told you, don't get in my way. You did a good job now let's leave it at that shall we? Not unless you want to join our dearest Miss Holmes here? No? That's what I thought, ciao for now." I made out that last part of his phone call.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that it's rude to listen in on other people's conversations?" He spoke to me, his deep Irish accent made a shiver shoot up my spine.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that it's rude to kidnap people?" I countered, trying to show him my more confident side. I couldn't let him see that I was in fact scared because that would be letting him win, which I was trying to avoid if at all possible.

"Ah, there she is boys! Miss Feisty has returned! I have missed this." He announced.

"Well, I haven't missed you." I admitted.

"Shame, like I'd said before, you would have been a good follower to add to my collection." He speculated.

"Well we've already established that's not going to happen, so why don't you get on with whatever you're doing here exactly?" I told him.

"As you wish. I'll leave you to your deductions for a moment." He implied that I had to try to figure out what was going on.

I looked around but there wasn't really too much to deduct, I mean I was in Sherlock's room for some reason. It looked the same as it ever did when I entered it, orderly and tidy which admittedly was a bit strange in contrast to the rest of the flat but I suppose he doesn't really use it too much as he doesn't sleep a lot and is usually on cases. Apart from the usual there did happen to be some kind of clear liquid splashed over the floor, which I wasn't to sure what it was yet or why it was there. His bedroom door was shut so I couldn't see the rest of the flat to deduce anything else. The cool liquid, that I was rudely awakened by as it was tipped over me, began to sink further into my clothes. It reached my bare skin underneath, which now meant that I was damp, cold and even more uncomfortable than before. As it sunk into my clothes I began to pick up it's scent, it was strong. Then it hit me straight in the face. It was alcohol. I had alcohol all over me and just a predictable guess that's what's over the floor too.

I had now become worried. My face was now plastered with concern, it was evident that Moriarty had acknowledged this too as he began to smirk.

He turned to one of his workers, who took out a lighter.

Oh my God! He's going to burn me. Oh my God, OH GOD! What am I going to do? How am I going to get out of this? The level of panic that had arisen inside me was unbearable. I began to tremble, this was definitely going to hurt. I tried pulling at the handcuff to try to get away but to my dismay, it wasn't working.

"Your not going anywhere poppet." His smirk unbelievably grew even bigger, it disgusted me but at the same time terrified me.

"Let me go, please!" I began to plead at him, as the man lit the lighter. "I haven't done anything wrong!"