Sherlock Holmes & The Knights Templar

Chapter 9

John held the small razor blade in his hand as the warm water from the shower rushed over him. His hand shook slightly as John positioned the blade over the artery that would do the most damage if cut. If the slash was clean he would bleed out in a few minutes. John held the blade sideways over the main artery in his wrist and pushed slightly down. "Jesus, that hurts, "John thought as the blade broke his skin. Blood oozed out of his wrist, pooled around his legs and then like a horror movie it swirled down the drain of the shower. John took a deep breath and prepared for the final cut. "I'm sorry, Sherlock," John whispered aloud. Before he could make the fatal slash, Moriarty took John's hand that held the blade and slammed it against the wall until John dropped the blade. There was blood everywhere, as the warm water made it flow heavily over the bathroom floor.

"Jesus," Moriarty cursed as he attempted to stop the blood flow with a bath towel. John lay on the floor unresisting, his eyes glazed with a slight smile on his face.

Moriarty grabbed his iPhone off the floor where he had dropped it. "It's me Jim, I need you to get over here right away, and don't be late or I will skin you alive."

Moriarty picked up John, took him to the bed and wrapped him in blankets. As Moriarty piled on more blankets he could feel John's body temperature dropping. "Shit, he's going into shock," Moriarty thought. "John, John stay with me….please," Moriarty whispered. He had not said the word please in so long that it sounded like a foreign dialect. Moriarty curled up next to John until he felt his iPhone vibrating. He checked his text message and jumped off the bed. A few moments later Moriarty returned with a woman that made Irene Adler look like a Sunday school teacher. Her hair was dyed jet black and her lips, eyebrows, and nose were pierced through with metal wires. She ran over to where John was and stripped off the blankets one by one. "Jim, what the hell happened? I am only a nurse and this looks beyond my….."

Moriarty reached out and grasped her wrist. "I will kill you slowly if you don't save him, so you'd best get to work."

The dominatrix nurse walked over to John and then looked back at Moriarty. "He's going to need a blood transfusion and you'd better pray to God that his blood type is the same type as you or I, or forget it, he's dust." The Nurse reached into a black leather bag with a skeleton on it and pulled out a small blood testing kit. She then walked over to John and put some of his blood on the slide. It seemed like hours before she announced, "His blood type is A+. Well, that rules me out."

Moriarty walked over and stared down at John's body. God he was so white. "That's my blood type," Moriarty said as he looked back at the nurse. As the nurse prepared Moriarty and John for the blood transfusion, Moriarty felt a small thrill of pleasure at the thought of his blood giving life to John. When the Nurse stuck the needle in his arm, Moriarty gasped with pleasure.

The Nurse rolled her eyes. "Jesus, Moriarty you and your boyfriend better tone down the games." The Nurse said as she looked down at Moriarty. She sighed and slapped his leg, "What am I going to do with you? You are so deliciously wicked."

Moriarty grinned back and sighed again when his movement made the needle shift in his arm.

"Hey, "the nurse said, "If you keep that up I will have to charge you an extra fee for my dominatrix services."

Moriarty closed his eyes as he struggled for control. He had never wanted someone as badly as he wanted John. His need for John was almost as great as his need to kill Sherlock. A groan from John made Moriarty sit up. "Is he going to be okay?" Moriarty asked desperately.

The Nurse turned and openly gapped at Moriarty. "Oh, my God, you really care for this guy. Could it be that Satan's spawn has fallen in love? Poor, Poor Moriarty, welcome to hell with the rest of us." She said it seductively with a hint of sadness.

After the Nurse left Moriarty tended to John and wondered what was next for them. He couldn't keep John here forever, or could he? Was there a way to make John love him through some sort of Alchemy formula? It was time to study and find out.

John opened his eyes and looked around. He wasn't in Moriarty's room any more he appeared to be in a room that resembled a hospital room. Hope made John's heart beat faster, was he home? "Sherlock? " John asked in a crackling voice.

"No, it's me," Moriarty whispered as he came to stand at John's bedside. "Are you feeling better? I had to give you a blood transfusion, so now we are united." John looked so horrified that Moriarty sank to the floor and put his head down on his knees. John recognized the defensive posture and thought that Moriarty most likely had developed the mechanism in childhood. For a moment neither of them said anything, and then John spoke. "Moriarty, what are you going to do with me? If I just knew what you had in mind, maybe I could bear it."

Moriarty looked up at John with wide brown eyes. His hair was ruffled and his t-shirt and jeans had dried blood on them. He looked so young and vulnerable that John cleared his throat to distract him from the disturbing image.

Moriarty jumped up and began to pace. "I thought you could stay in this room for your privacy. The former Doctor, who occupied it, will not need the space any longer."

As John studied Moriarty's face he had no doubt that the Doctor was most likely dead and that Moriarty had probably killed him. "What is my purpose here?" John asked.

Moriarty's voice became high pitched with excitement. "Well, I will make this room a little bit more personal for you, so you will be comfortable. You will stay here and assist me in my experiments. I know that after a while you will come to care for me as I do you. After all, we already know we have physical connection. However, no need to worry I won't touch you again, well unless you want me to," Moriarty said shyly.

John studied Moriarty's flushed cheeks with disbelief. "Moriarty, killer, soul burner, evil master mind criminal," was blushing like a school girl.

Sherlock went back to his room. The talk with Mary didn't help him sort out anything at all. He lay back on his bed and closed his eyes as he mentally pulled up a map of the city of Prague. Where could John be? A knock at the door distracted Sherlock from further speculation and he could tell from the sound of the knock that it was Mycroft. Sherlock answered the door and let Mycroft in. "What do you want?" Sherlock snapped.

Mycroft pulled up a map of the city on his iPhone and motioned for Sherlock to stand next to him. "We put a tail on some of Moriarty's contacts in the city and found that a nurse that Moriarty often employs to complete various tasks for him went to an underground tunnel last night. Here," Mycroft said as he zoomed in on a specific place on the map. "We picked her up last night. We still have her in custody and so far she is not talking."

Sherlock sighed in boredom. "Get to the point, Mycroft." Sherlock growled.

Mycroft took a deep breath and continued on. "Sherlock, we found a bundle of bloody, towels and blankets in her car. We did a DNA test on them and it's a match for John."

Sherlock grabbed Mycroft by the arm and pulled him towards the door. "I want to see them now." Sherlock commanded.

The ride over to the lab was quiet as Mary, Sherlock, and Mycroft remained immersed in their own thoughts. Prague was a beautiful city at night; however its majestic beauty was lost on the three companions. Once they were in the lab Sherlock examined the towels and blankets with an intense ferocity. He weighed them sniffed them and then balanced them in each hand. "John lost about 5 liters of blood. To survive he would have needed a blood transfusion." Sherlock said as he looked up at Mary and Mycroft. He paced for a few moments and then went over to the computer. "I need to know Jim Moriarty's blood type," Sherlock muttered aloud. "Mycroft, log in so that I check," Sherlock commanded.

Mycroft walked over punched in a password and moved aside for Sherlock to access to the keyboard. After a few moments Sherlock looked victorious, "Jim Moriarty has the same blood type as John."

Mycroft and Mary exchanged an alarmed glance, for it appeared that Sherlock was desperately grabbing at straws.