Illness of a sociopath

Uh oh

A/n Mohan, I know you don't like strange chapters so don't read this one.

"We meet at last Mr Holmes"

And then it all went black. But not for long, due to sherlocks old drug habbit he was more tolerant to the sedative than the abductor may have wished.

Hands legs arms neck head.

No too badly injured. Maybe concussion, and a broke finger. One cracked rib. They must be awful at moving bodies, thank god they are not removal men.

Had worse.

Blindfold. Annoying. Actually it was defiantly concision, sherlock was starting to feel more than a little queasy. The feeling of needing to empty ones stomach was overwhelming. though it could be motion sickness. Normally mycroft could track his brother easily, it was almost a hobby. But the winding roads of the outskirts of London quickly, meant sherlock was gone from the face if the earth

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John, Sherlock is gone. ~mh

Gone? ~jw

I'm sorry I tried to warn him but I was to late. We are trying to find him now. ~mh

Explain later ~jw

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"Rise and shine me Holmes" came a taunting voice from the edge of the dark room.

As the detective woke, he took in all details he could. Not that there where many.

No natural light

Tied to pipe?

Not moriarty

Dark

Very very dark

"MR HOMLES!" came the voice again, slapping sherlock out of his mind and into reality. Not the best place to be. Sherlock resisted the painful urge to cry out and fight against the cable ties cutting into his wrists.

"It's not to bad Holmes, I think you will learn to like it here." The voice sung. When in a dark room with only a mad man it alright to be afraid. John would say it's ok? Wouldn't he? Where is john?

"MR HOLMES! answer me now" came the voice again, anger spilling out of the other mans lips.

"Sorry, I wasn't listening you where boring me." Sherlock replied, hiding all fear. Maybe the man would get bored and leave him alone.

"Untie him."

Two very large men walked over and cut the ties, also taking of a layer or three of skin with it. The detective rubbed his wrists. He could attack him now, it was only them in the room, he could escape.

Just as sherlock was about to stand he toppled over, to notice that he had not taken in the detail of the fact that he was bound at the feet.

"Not so fast dear." Taunted the man. "I'm Sebastian. We haven't met before but you know my husband. Moriarty."

Sebastian loomed over him, revealing a knife. "today, is a warning sherlock. I'm not going to hurt you much. I want to send you home, you can be a living warning. Don't mess with me."

"Let me go NOW!" sherlock tried to get up as Sebastian pulled the knife slowly over his arms forming words. The detective bit his lip refusing to cry out. On the last letters the cuts got deeper.

Blood spilled onto the floor and as quickly as he had awoken sherlock was unconscious.

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It was three weeks later when sherlock was finally sent back to Baker Street. Four man threw him out of a black van at three in the morning, ran the bell and drove into the night.

Johns pov

Three, who rings at bloody three?

I grab my dressing gown and slowly walk down the stairs. It was snowing earlier, is it worth opening the door? Hmmm I think not.

Back to bed.

It was the next morning and john awoke to screams of mrs Hudson. John bolted downstairs to discover what happened at three. Sherlocks body was splayed out across the doorstep, to a passerby he looked like a drunk who got out of a bad fight. John knew otherwise.

I'm sorry this chapter is short and shit but school has started again. I will try to update when I can, and sorry again. ~Eloise