Sherlock Preferences & Imagines

Mycroft Holmes.

Your pov.

You was not a normal woman. You had a dark past. Something you hid from your lover.

You was an assassin. You had been since you was twelve. Your body had too many scars to count. So, all you wore was long sleeves and long bottoms.

Mycroft didn't know. You hacked into the government database and changed everything about it without any recovery.  

So, when you got a letter with a stamp of the organisation you was with, you knew you and Mycroft was in danger.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" Mycroft asked. Luckily he didn't notice you hiding the letter.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just got a lot on my mind."

"You want to talk about it?"

"No, it's nothing too bad. Just thinking about life. C'mon lets have tea."

"Okay."

Now, we wait. And I will be ready.

-Time skip-

It's been a month. Nothing to rash has happened. You have noticed suspicious people everywhere you go.

You knew they didn't like waiting. 

You was in the living room. A glass of wine rested in your hand. Sun was shining through the large glass wall. Mycroft was at work and said he'd be checking on Sherlock.

Just as you went to take another sip of wine, the window shattered. There was a note.

Good luck mon ami. My favourite assassin.

 My dear Grim reaper

-khan.

Uh oh

As you looked up from the note you seen a large amount of people surrounding your house.

Shit. 

A few people dived through your windows and some kicked your front door open.

You grabbed a gun you hid under your coffee table. 

You shot the one closest to you in the head. Blood squirting every where. You then elbowed one in the nose that come up behind you. You then shot another person in the neck. Him then gargling on his own blood.  You shot another two people, one in the head and the other in the heart. Then the bullets in your gun ran out. You then grabbed two people and smashed their heads together. Then pushing them over, stomping on both of their heads. You then turned and ran into the Kitchen. You opened the drawer full of knifes and grabbed the sharpest knife you owned.

Another group of people come in. You slashed the neck of the first man that entered your kitchen. You would've thought that they would have been better equipped with weapons. Khan must've thought I lost the killer touch.

You grabbed a smaller knife and threw it where it them landed in someones skull. With the bigger knife you stabbed someone in the stomach, pulling out the knife blood spilled out like a crimson waterfall. One man grabbed you making you drop the knife. You ten put you hands on his head and pressed you thumbs into his eyes until you seen blood gushing out. He screamed out in agony. You then kicked this crotch. You looked out the window to see there wasn't a lot of people left trying to kill you. The only problem was that this time they had guns.