At the Special Unit, Sherlock stepped onto a marked area on the floor and a few feet in front of a door. The white lighting above his head began to oscillate back and forth. Sherlock could hear a violin playing, but only faintly.
"You 'aven't been down 'ere, 'ave you? Silence of the Lambs, basically," a guard said to Sherlock.
"You what?" Sherlock asked, keeping his Scottish accent. Anita wasn't a big action movie person, so horror was really off the docket on most movie nights. Not that they didn't have enough of murder and crime in there lives. Maybe that was why Anita didn't like them.
"Keep your distance; stay at least three feet away from the glass an' all that," the guard explained as the light above Sherlock turned green then back to white. He looked across to the man and noticed he had headphones on.
"Why the headphones?" Sherlock questioned, jerking his head towards the man.
"She doesn't stop playin', sometimes for weeks," stated the guard.
"Beautiful," Sherlock commented, referring to the music.
"Kills you in the end," replied the guard.
"Aye. Still beautiful, though," Sherlock said as the door slid open and he walked inside.
The door closed behind him and he instantly straightened up from his slouch. He took off his jacket and dropped it to the floor then started to remove his disguise as the elevator took him down. Finally, the doors slid open and Sherlock saw a wide wall made up of three floor to ceiling glass panels. On each of the panels, about three feet from the floor, a notice had been stenciled onto the glass reading in white letters: "MAINTAIN DISTANCE OF THREE FEET."
On the other side of the glass was a large semi-circular shaped room lined with bare grey panels. Soft white lighting came from the top of the panels and a large circular panel of lights in the middle of the ceiling sent green light down into the room. Running down the middle of the room was a rectangular strip of white flooring and the rest was grey, matching the walls. There was a bed at the far end of the room design to the left near the end was a seat and table fastened to the wall. In the middle of the room, Eurus stood with her back to the door, a Bach-like piece playing from her violin. Sherlock took a step forward and the lift doors closed behind him.
The overhead lighting turned green to white as Eurus stopped playing and stood there, unmoving. After a couple of seconds, she started to play again. Sherlock stood silently, blinking frequently, as he started to remember his younger self running around in water while Redbeard trotted behind him. He pressed his lips together uncomfortably, but didn't move while Eurus continued to play.
Over in the governor's office, John, Mycroft, and Anita were sitting in chairs around a table, watching a recording on a large screen. The recording showed four different angles of Eurus in her cell.
"Why am I here?" Eurus asked someone off screen.
"Why do you think you're here?" responded a man's voice.
"No one ever tells me," Eurus stated before looking over at whoever was behind the screen.
"Am I being punished?"
"You've been bad," the man said.
"There's no such thing as bad," Eurus replied in a sing-song voice.
"What about good?" the man questioned.
"Good and bad are fairytales. We have evolved, you attach an emotional significance to what is nothing more than survival strategy of the pack animal. We are conditioned to invest divinity in utility. Good isn't really good, evil isn't really wrong, and bottoms aren't really pretty. You are a prisoner of your own meat," Eurus explained.
