Sherlock x Mute!Reader

9. "Let's play a game, Sherlock."

I heard your prayers guys and finally finished the next chapter!
Thank you all so much for your votes and comments ❤

Metal crashed against metal as you yanked wildly at the handcuff around your wrist until you felt warm blood running down your ice-cold hand.
Silently sobbing you sank back on the bed. The sudden lack of noise made the dark room even scarier.
How have you ended here? What happened and why the hell can't you remember?!
These thoughts got stuck in your head, drove a rollercoaster, and made you feel sick.
Helpless you tried to remember what had happened, tried to puzzle everything together but the last thing you remember was going to bed alone in your flat.
Alone.
The word echoed in your head.
Something in the back of your mind told you that this wasn't right.
There was this feeling, this feeling of being watched. You had it right before you fell asleep.
Suddenly you remember that something was being pressed on your face. You couldn't breathe anymore and smelled something sweet. Panicking you had woken up and saw someone standing next to your bed. He was pressing you down and covered your mouth and nose with a piece of cloth.
It was Jonathan.
You screamed inside your head, wanted to punch yourself for your stupidity of trusting a man you barely knew instead of trusting Sherlock.

Your eyes darted to your left as a door was opened with a loud squeaking sound and bright blue light fell into the room.
A man was standing in the frame and threw a large shadow on the ground.
"Finally awake?", a deep voice asked with a sarcastic undertone and his heavy steps resounded through the room as he walked towards you.
"Oh, it was so easy to twist you around my little finger", he hummed as he tugged on his black curls, pulling down the wig from his head and revealing short blonde hair.
He chuckled as he saw the scared look on your face.
"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm not gonna harm you.", Jonathan pulled a phone out of his pockets and stood there for a while, typing something, before he sat beside you on the bed and turned the camera on, holding the phone away so that you both were visible on the screen.
"As long as Sherlock does what I want."

"Let's play a game, Sherlock.", the man in the video said and grinned evilly.
Watson heard this sentence for at least the 20th time in a row now since Sherlock kept restarting the video which he received 10 minutes ago on his phone.
"Watching it over and over again won't get (y/n) back here.", Mycroft said, trying to bring his little brother back to his senses but Sherlock completely ignored him, restarting the video again.
Annoyed Watson stood up from his chair and snatched the phone out of Sherlock's hand: "That's enough now."
"I should've stayed with her.", Sherlock mumbled under his breath and ran his hands over his face, his black shirt stretched over his back and arms as every muscle in his body tensioned.
Suddenly he stood up and threw his hands in the air: "For god's sake I should've stayed with her!"
"It's not your fault.", Watson tried to calm him down, shook from his unusual behavior.
"Don't fool yourself, Watson, of course, it is! That lunatic is just kidnapping her because of me."

On Sherlock's phone popped up a message from an unknown number and Watson gave it back to Sherlock. He swiftly opened it, just to nearly drop it as he saw the content of the message.
It was a picture of you sitting on the bed, a blanket half over your shoulders and your right hand was laid over the left. It was dark but Sherlock still noticed the handcuffs and the bloody strains underneath them on your skin. Your hair was parted to both sides of your face and you had a smile on your face. A forced smile, your lips were curled up but your eyes showed fear.
The phone rang loudly and Watson jumped.
Sherlock answered the call with a cold expression.
"Such a pretty girl, don't you think?", the man on the other side chuckled darkly.
Sherlock's hand tightened around his cellphone: "Don't you dare to touch her.", his voice had a deadly sound and even Watson needed to gulp since he never heard him talk like this.
"Oh, I won't, what are you thinking of me? But you should hurry.", the man made a dramatic pause. "It's getting really cold in here."
He chuckled again before he hung up.
Slowly Sherlock lowered his hand with the phone and stared blankly out of the window.
Watson didn't dare to speak and waited for Sherlock to tell him what was up, but he stayed silent and the only noise was the beeping of the disconnected phone call.
Without a word, Sherlock turned around, threw his coat over and rushed with fast and heavy steps past Microft and Watson and down the stairs. Watson followed him to the street and just about made it into the cab in which Sherlock had hopped in.
"Where are we going?", Watson asked as the car started driving.
"The national gallery."