Information (Sherlock's POV)

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I listlessly wandered about my cabin room and looked at the the picture Moriarty had sent previously. When I tried to recall exactly when I had received the image, I found that the days just blurred together. But there was a stark contrast between the happy days and the anger and rage filled days, John was missing in the latter group. I looked over at the raging fireplace, gazing at the flames and the shimmering waves of heat that wafted from the red tongues. I made sure that the long, metal pole was firmly situated deep within the flames, it's metal already turning a brilliant white. I then abruptly swiveled and faced the anxious men. They were tethered to two wooden chairs. Their mouths were duct taped shut. Their eyes were wide and followed my every movement. One was tall and thin, a weasel of a man. The other was short, so short his feet didn't touch the ground, and even thinner than the first. They both had blond hair and the weasel had green eyes while the midget had brown. The midget was breathing heavily, almost hyperventilating. The weasel glared at me through slits, his breathing even and muscles tense. I grinned maliciously and stalked closer to the men. Midget squirmed as much as his bindings allowed and Weasel stilled even more, as if to make up for his partners weakness.

"Where is he?" I ripped the tape off of Midget's mouth. He yelled in pain and pulled his head away from me. I continued to glare down at him, I could almost feel the rage and anger simmering off of me. I think he could feel it too, for he gazed at me with unbridled fear in his brown eyes and gulped several times. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly, but no sound came out.

"Fine, let me rephrase, tell me where Moriarty is and I'll try not to hurt you too much." I growled savagely. Midget squeaked and recoiled from my slap. The sound of flesh on flesh echoed about the dark room.

"I...I...I...am forbidden to tell!" He hissed feverishly. His voice was high and squeaked repeatedly, sounding like nails on a chalk board. I nodded solemnly and, much to Midget's surprise, turned away from him and towards Weasel. Weasel didn't move, only continued to glare at me fiercely. I slowly peeled the tape off of his mouth, watching his eyes fill with water and his face twitch in pain.

"Can you tell me?" I asked softly. Weasel only shook his head. "I was afraid you would say that." I murmured and reached into the back waist band of my jeans. The long metal of the serrated and jagged knife slid coldly across my skin. I held it up to the light cast off by the globe bulb above us. Midget stared at it, sweat trickling down his forehead, and Weasel actually showed some fear as his jugular moved rapidly with worried swallows. I let them examine the long knife for a while, watching as their hearts raced and anxiety heightened.

"You two look so alike," both of them started at the sudden reappearance of my voice, "couldn't possibly be that you are twins?" I wondered aloud. I had already deduced that they were, and Midget gave it away rather quickly with his body language. I laughed mirthlessly at them and twirled the knife in my hand.

"Now, you will tell me where to find them, or I'll make one of you watch as I carve the other until you tell me." I stepped closer to Midget, "either way I get what I want." Midget tried to shrink into his chair, childish whimpers issuing from his mouth. Tears welled up in his eyes as I placed the blade against his uncovered arm. Weasel stared at the blade, as if wondering if I would actually do it.

"John is in trouble." The voice in my head whispered, and that was all the encouragement I needed. The knife slid fluidly across Midget's arm, leaving a trail of red blood in its wake. Midget hissed sharply at the pain. Weasel seemed to choke on his words.

"Something to say?" I muttered while carving intricate designs deeper and deeper into Midget's body. In no time, I had him screaming and begging me to stop.

"STOP!" Weasel bellowed  His voice much lower than I had anticipated.

"Yes?" I lifted the bloody knife away from Midget. I looked at the red fluid distastefully and cleaned the blade on Midget's shirt. His face was pale and had a greenish tinge to it.

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