You, Sherlock, and John were hunting a cannibalistic serial killer. You had jut reached the sawmill he was at. You ran up to the mill.
"Be quiet!" Said Sherlock.
"Sherlock is right we don't know what's gonna be on the other side." John added.
"I have a feeling." You whispered to them. "And I wasn't even loud Holmes!" You hissed in a whisper.
"What do thinks is on the other side?" Asked John.
"Something from my nightmares, well, memories." You peered in through the window.
John stood quietly. "You were tortured?"
"I was 14." You muttered and still stared into the window.
"God...I'm sorry that's horrible."
"I still have some scars, but I'm over it."
Sherlock was scoping the area around you as you and John spoke.
"It's gonna be a lot worse than torture I'm afraid. I smell cooked human flesh. I think the killer is eating his prey." Said Sherlock.
"I think I know who this is." You said as you went slightly pale. "And yes that is human flesh, I was around that smell for too long. I was the only lucky one." You muttered the last sentence quietly, trying to keep it to yourself.
"Please tell me, I'm your best friend. I want to know... I feel like I NEED to know." John begged.
"Then I should know too John." Sherlock added.
"Not now John." You looked at him, you saw the hurt and held his hand. "When we get home, I promise." You looked back into the window, your hand still holding Johns.
Sherlock held up his gun. Embracing the hard tormenting smell of burning flesh. He slowly opened the door. The smell firing up. He walked in looking to see trails of blood everywhere. There was a staircase to his left and a open living room to his right. He couldn't see what was in the middle of the room so he would have to investcate one or the other.
You looked inside and went in quickly, and quietly. Up the stair case, to the left then the right. This was the place that haunted you everywhere you went. You knew one thing about the killer, he, or she either knew about the previous occupant of this mill, or it was the same occupant when you was here. You held your gun ready to kill.
The mysterious figure grabbed you. Comming from the darkness. The figure put it's hand over your so you couldn't scream. He pushed you into a small room filled with dozens of other people. He ducked taped your mouth and strapped you to the wall. "Nice to see you again Y/n. I guess I get to finish the job now." He voice chuckled through the air. Which left an wary silence in the room. He out your gun in his pocket.
You quickly kneed his stomach and groin you pulled yourself off the walls and grabbed the gun and ran out to Sherlock and John. You knew he was following you.
"Christ! Y/n what happened?" Asked John.
Sherlock's eyes were wild. "He's up there." He pointed at the 56 year old man.
You pulled off the tape as the man came up behind you and grabbed you again, not noticing the two men in front of you.
"You know what happens when you runaway." The man growled in your ear. You had a muscle spasm that caused your shoulders to go up.
"Looks like my baby still has those muscle spasms." He chuckled.
Sherlock prowled at the man. He was overweight which made him hard to tackle but managed to knock him down. On the ground the man was dased, so he punched him hard in the throat.
