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Welcome back to Sherlocked – NEVERMORE!


Our next installment: A Watery Grave


John was face down into some water and gurgled it in when he would have breathed in air. This woke him up. He was bound to a seat, in a car, and in the water. Panic…


“Sherlock! Sherlock!” John shouted to his friend when he noticed him bound next to him. No response. “SHERLOCK!


Holmes’ eyes opened. “Shut up John, I was thinking, not dead…”


“What do we do Sherlock?” John asked, the water creeping up to his chin. He tried to pull at his bonds but they wouldn’t budge. The windows were up and they were dropping fast.


“Wait!” Sherlock said and then he bent over, farther than one would expect, and was submersed.


The water continued to rise, John leaned, gasping for the last bits of air left. He tried to scream but his filled with water instead. And he was underwater. He struggled, he rocked… all useless. He froze, ready to welcome death.


Then he felt hands grab at him as he started to lose consciousness. Then things went black. A bleak nothingness entered his mind. Was this death? Was that a light up ahead? Was he bound for Heaven or Hell, if they were real at all?


In an instance, he was thrust awake, belching water. Everything was spinning as life was restored. He turned and felt cool mud on his face. He was righted back to his backside. As his vision focused he could tell he was looking at Sherlock, who appeared genuinely worried and relieved at the same time.


“Thank goodness, John, you’re alright,” Sherlock said and then slumped back to sit next to him.


John groaned a bit, coughed, and sat up. “You saved me… you, Sherlock, performed… CPR on me?”


“Well I couldn’t let you die, but don’t read anything in to it,” Sherlock replied.


John put a funny grin on his face and allowed himself to lay back down. The sky had never looked so blue. But then he had the feeling someone was watching him and he peered to his other side to a pair of dead eyes staring at him. John screamed and scurried back. “Who the hell is that?!


In his typical, matter-of-fact sort of way, Sherlock replied, “The man who was supposed to make sure we died.”


Well then how did he… when did he…? Did you? When would you have? You wouldn’t have, could you?” John sputtered.


“Well we came out and he looked very displeased at our emergence and I couldn’t let him report our resurrection to his superiors…” Sherlock said looking away.


John paused. It struck him. Sherlock had killed a man. Sherlock had killed a man instead of saving him. “You bast…” he spouted as he took a swing at Sherlock.


“He’d of killed us both had I not killed him. It was a calculated risk I had to take, John,” Sherlock said stopping him.


John knew he was right. “So what do we do now? And how did you get us free?” John asked.


“Well first we have to repay the favor Nikoli Abramov was doing us and dispose of the minion… then we can talk,” Sherlock said. And he was up and already plotting how to rid them of a corpse.


[End of Installment]


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