I wake up to the cold wind blowing through the window. Wait. The window is open. It wasn't open last night. Who opened it? I sat up and saw a figure in the corner of the room. Sherlock must gone back to his flat, given the fact that he wasn't here. I slid my hand under my pillow and gripped the handle of the knife tightly. Yes, I keep a knife under my pillow. Just incase something like this happens.
"What do you want?" My voice is calm and steady, unlike the me on the inside. I'm terrified and shaking inside. The figure chuckles. I recognize the chuckle. It's his chuckle.
"Just came to finish what I started. He said, walking towards me. I see something glint in his hand and I notice it's a gun. He stops at the foot of my bed and points it at me. Before he pulls the trigger, I pull out my small knife, and deflect the bullet. Somehow. He just shakes his head as my vision wavers. Soon, everything around me melts away and I jolt up in bed, sweating and panting. Sherlock is next me with a very conserved expression on his face. John, who stands where he stood in my dream- no, nightmare- with a confused and worried look. I feel a cool breeze. I look over to my window. It's open. I scan the room and see a shadow in my closet. I stare at the spot for a bit until Sherlock shakes my shoulder a little. I look at him as he stares at me with concern. I motion towards my closet and I show him the knife under my pillow. He nods, and so does John. I get up, bringing the knife with me, and went towards my closet. I opened the closet door wider and a man pounced out at me. It wasn't him though, so I didn't stab him. He pushed me to the ground and straddled me, holding a knife to my throat. I stared up at him with a blank face. I knew who it was. Doesn't mean I'm happy to see him.
"Miss me, sugar?" He asked, getting off and standing up. I grabbed his ankle and pulled him down. Straddling him,I put one knee where the sun don't shine and hovered over it. I didn't put it down, threatening him with it.
"Nope. Not one bit. But next time, don't sneak into my room through the window while I'm asleep. That's just not you." I said, putting my knee down and adding pressure. He winced.
"Sorry. I just came to see if your ok." He said. I got off and stod up. I backed away before he could pull me down and watched him. He had light brown hair with blonde streaks in it. It was slightly messy like he hadn't slept in a while. His normally bright blue eyes were a dull blue, like they lost there life and are meaningless. He had a slightly crooked nose. He obviously got caught up in a fight recently and broke it.
He stood up and face the men that are still in my room. They looked like they were watching his every move.
"I'm Jake. An... old friend of hers. And you guys are?" He introduces himself.
"I'm Sherlock and this is John. We are (y/n)'s neighbors and friends." Sherlock said. I walked up to Jake and made him face me. I smirked and grabbed his nose, popping it back into place. He winced and grabbed his nose, obviously in pain.
"What the hell?!" He asked me, trying to hold back a scolding for me. I shrugged.
"I was just putting your nose back in place. Who did you fight? Did you win?" I asked. I knew that he won, but I let him brag and boast about it anyways.
"I bumped into a guy and he challenged me. I obviously won because of how good I am." He bragged, puffing out his chest and flexing his muscles. I just smirked and shook my head.
"Are you serious?" I asked.
"No. I'm Severous." He joked back. (If any one gets the refrence then your awesome will get cookies) I shook my head walked out of my room and I to the kitchen to make some breakfast. Everyone followed and watched me like I was an alien during a test.
"What?" I ask. They either shrug or shake their heads before sitting down on the chairs and couch in the living room. After eating, I go and sit down on the floor. I lay down and put my hands behind my head, thinking. I stare up at the ceiling and think over my nightmare. It was creepy that Jake left the window open, just like my nightmare, and almost killed me. He would have if he didn't need something. He didn't care if people where there, he won have killed me.
"Jake?" I ask.
"Hmm."
"What do you need?" I sit up, my hands supporting me. He looks confused, but it's fake.
"What are you talking about? Can't I just come to see a friend?" He asks.
"No. When ever you come to me, you need something. Otherwise, you would have killed me when you pounced." I pointed out. He sighed.
"Fine. Jim sent me to tell you something." He pauses.
"Well? What is it?" I say impatiently. John and Sherlock watch the exchange with interest. Jake looks at me with horror filled eyes.
"He knows. About... you." Jake said. My eyes widen as I let it sink in. He knows. He knows my secret. How he found out, I have no clue. I sat, staring up at Jake with frightened eyes,shaking a little.
"What?" I manage. He nods and I stand up. I follow suit and he leads me to my room. I probably shouldn't follow him, but with this serious of a matter, I don't care. He closes and locks the doors and plops down on the bed next to me. "So exactly what does he know?" I ask.
"That your a trained assassin. And that bailed on a mission once you saw who you had to kill. He knows that your different. That you didn't just developed your deduction skills. You retrieved some of it through... special...experiences." he said. I nod. That is true, but not all of it. I didn't just bail when I saw my target. I was kidnapped. I know. A trained assassin, kidnapped? Not possible. But that's the thing. My target found out and had someone follow me and they found my weakness. That's how I was kidnapped. They tortured me and tried to do other things. It was horrible. That's how I learned to hide my emotions, to not let anyone in. And that's just what I did to John and Sherlock. I let them in. I let them see my emotions.
"I want you to know this. That's not the whole story. I bailed for a reason. I want you to tell Jim that my past is none of his... business." I trail off, something clicking in my brain, like a missing puzzle peice. The picture is whole. I can see something that no one else can. I know who the next victim is.
"What's wrong?" Jake asks.
"I figured it out." I say, barely audible. He nods. He gets up and unlocks the door. He opens it and calls John and Sherlock to the room. I get up and pace. If I'm correct, which is most likely a yes, then I'm scared. No. I'm terrified.
"What's wrong, (y/n)? You look scared." John asks. I glance around the room and see the Jake and Sherlock are on the bed, while John is in my desk chair. I'm in the middle of the room with everyone's attention.
He would do it when everyone is watching.
"I know who the killer is, and who the next victim is. I know how they are going to kill them and where." I say.
"Who?" Sherlock asks. I look to Jake and he nods his head. He opens the window and jumps out. I look back at the two and take a deep breath.
"You remember the picture of my ex, right?" I ask. They nod. "It's his brother. They are twins. Almost identical. The brother looks like my ex, except he has green eyes. And he's a little taller."
"So the killer is your ex's brother?" John asks. I nod.
"Who's the next victim?" Sherlock asks. I gulp.
"Me."
