dragonnan:aelaer: dragonnan:Inktober: Kidnapped and Injured Sherlock “Mr. Holmes; you may co
dragonnan:aelaer: dragonnan: Inktober: Kidnapped and Injured Sherlock “Mr. Holmes; you may come collect your brother, now. We thank you for your cooperation.” The mobile slid back into the elderly man’s coat. The cigarette he indulged until it reached the filter - the stub he flicked into the water. Sherlock, as much as his skating attention were capable, kept his eyes on the older man. Between the beating and the drugs forced into his system, his focus was, at best, bleary. Tremors shook through his limbs - four days of repeated methamphetamine injections had left him both euphoric and wildly manic. He had little memory of what he’d said - shouted - at his captors but one of his blistering observations had led to that morning’s assault on his person. It was freezing, next to the Thames; the water clopping against the base of the dock. Sherlock pulled at the ropes - tightened even further with the damp soaking through the fibers. The old man moved in front of him - leaning a bit too close and puffing the stench of nicotine and denture gum into his face. “I would like to apologize, once more, Mr. Holmes. I respect the work that you provide. However, business is business and your brother has cost us considerably with his involvement in those certain… transactions… which you’d so enthusiastically detailed this morning.” Leaning back again, the old man dug another cigarette from its pack and lit it - taking a long inhale before letting his hand drop to his side. “As it is, we cannot allow his meddling to go unchallenged. He needs to understand the full weight of what he has brought upon him.” Stepping back, he nodded to the two muscle-bound lackeys on either side of where Sherlock had been kneeling. “I suggest you don’t attempt to hold your breath. You’ll only suffer longer if you fight it. Farewell, Sherlock Holmes.” Steel gripped hands grasped his biceps and dragged him backwards - Sherlock arching his back and squirming - fruitlessly. Then, with a coordinated heave, the two men threw him from the dock. The wild shout was muffled behind his gag - cut off as he struck the water and immediately sank. As the murky waves of the Thames whirled over his head he could swear there was another figure on the dock… I’m sorry!! I have no more - though I’ll certainly write it should inspiration strike further! Mostly I just wanted something to go with the art. However I sure wouldn’t be mad if someone wanted to make this a full fledged story! I was going through your stuff looking for something else and I found this and it only has one note WTF?!?!?! Okay, so, I had actually 100% forgotten I’d written this loll!!! Like I even re-read it and was like “what jerk leaves something RIGHT THERE!!??” And then was all…. oh. SO, as it is, I actually DO feel inspired to add to this! Currently working on this as a one-shot and once I get it put together I’ll add a link to the posted story! Stay tuned!! -- source link