Sheriarty, the Psychopaths prize

Molly Hooper, What A Surprise..

Sherlock's Pov

I don't know how much time has passed, but yoga has become boring and the light from the window was gone. All that remained was the lights above that continually hummed for the entirety of me being here, and the mattress that looked like it would give you some sort of disease if you came near it.

There was also the rope that was previously wrapped around me, but it was cut too short to do any real help. Maybe I could fashion a trip wire from it, just to piss off who ever comes in next. No real danger, but then again I could use the extra rope to choke them to the point of passing out. The door opened into my cell rather than out to the hall, meaning I would have to physically snag their feet with the rope then climb on top of the person as they fell to knock them out. However carrying a bed to a destination is not a one person job, not even a two either. Possibly three hostiles, my only weapon is this rope and possibly disease carrying bed, and I haven't the fondest idea what's exactly out my door let alone this building.

I could also make a noose, there was enough rope to make one anyway. The ceilings were low enough as well, it would just be a question of of will power to not put any effort in using my legs. Suffication isn't a bad way to die, it's below hypothermia for being the least painful. That and old age of course, but I rather let my brain turn to "alphabet soup" before i get to the point of being called old.

*knock knock knock*

"Mr Holmes, we have your bed, and your doctor. We've been told by Mr Moriarty to tell you that we have stun guns and we aren't afraid to use them on her." A voice called from beyond the door, I immediately took apart his sentence. He used  we twice, meaning there was multiple hostiles like I predicted but also seeing how they didn't slip up on using it twice. They also said "use it on her" rather than "use it on you" like most threats go. That was a definite term told to be used by Moriarty, not doubt about it.

"I won't be putting up a fight if that's what your implying. Just get it over with for both our sakes." I responded, I haven't had a good nights sleep in hours and I was starving, not something that mixes well with me. Plus I've been wondering who the doctor was that Moriarty has kept on the down low for the time I knew she existed.

The door opened as I shoved the excess rope under the grotesque bed, while I shoved the other half down my surprisingly still intake trousers.  Two men came in first, the first one was carrying a clean twin size mattress under his arm, while the other was carrying an entire bed frame. Both men were huge, what the hell was Jim feeding these guys? Then shortly after came a man with a cattle rod in his hands, stun guns my ass. Those things were made to piss off a full sized bull and send a average human into cardiac arrest. He motioned with his rod for someone to follow, that someone being my doctor.

A pair of black flats clicked on my cement floor, followed by a pair of short slender legs and a sweater that looked comfortable and warm, something I would've killed for right about now. The person had a lab coat on, and mid length brunette hair tied back loosely in a ponytail. My heart stopped when I finally saw her face, it was Molly. Molly Hooper, my colleague, and apparently my friend. Her words, maybe mine. She looked up to see me, her face turned white, then her cheeks turned a bright red. The moment the red hit her ears is the moment she looked away, I looked down at myself to see what was so appalling to the point she couldn't look at me. Aside the fact I was shirtless my abdomen was bruised to the point of some spots being yellow.

She removed the lab coat she had on and handed it to me, the best I could do though was wrap it around myself seeing how our size difference was...obvious to say. Nonetheless it was enough for her to look to directly at me, she had bags under her eyes almost as deep as mine. Her face had no bruising which I thought was a good sign, until I looked farther down and saw marks on her neck. My hands moved on their own as I checked her shoulders and neck, she was covered in bruises and what looked liked hickies. That bastard, so that's what he meant by not sharing her.