The Fire

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Later that night, Sherlock was home eating chips. (french fries in America) Alex still hadn't come home. Sherlock assumed she was still out with John. She was...if you counted not being able to talk and being stuck in a pile of wood that was going to be lit on fire in a few minutes. She was opening her mouth, but no sound was coming out. It took all the strength she had just to move one of her fingers. John had a little more strength and was able to sit up a little. He flopped right back down, his head pounding.

Mary was walking home from an evening out with her friend when her phone chimed. She picked it up and took one of her gloves off, biting the finger to keep it from falling. She had a text message from an unknown number.

Save souls now!
John or James Watson?
Alexandra or Emma Watson?
Saint or Sinner?
The more is Less?

Something seemed off to Mary. She quickly rushed to the flat, hoping Sherlock could figure them out. Mrs. Hudson answered the door. 

"Hi, Mrs. Hudson. Sorry, I think someone's got John and Alex!" Mary said, rushing up the stairs.

"Hang on, who are you?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"Oh, I'm his fiance." Mary said.

"Oh!" Mrs. Hudsons said.

"Mary? What's wrong?" Sherlock called, after hearing the words 'someone's got Alex and John.'

"Someone sent me this." Mary said, showing Sherlock the message. "At first I thought it was a Bible thing, you know, spam, but it's not. It's a skip code." 

"First word than every third. 'Save John Watson, Alexandra Watson.'" Sherlock read. He dropped his chips and ran down the stairs. "Now!"

"Where are we going?" Mary asked.

"St. James the Less, it's a church!" Sherlock yelled. "Twenty minutes by car. Did you drive here?"

"Yes." Mary nodded. It was raining outside.

"It's too slow, it's too slow." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock, what are we waiting for?!" Mary asked. Her fiance and almost-little sister could be dying.

"This." Sherlock said.

There was a motorbike driving towards them. He held out his hand, forcing the driver to stop. Sherlock and Mary got on. Mary's phone chimed and she looked at the text quickly.

Getting warmer, Mr. Holmes. You have ten minutes.

"What does it mean? What are they going to do to them?" Mary asked.

"I don't know!" Sherlock said. He was terrified. He had just gotten Alex back and now he was possible going to lose her.

Meanwhile, John was still trying to move. Alex had gotten some of her strength back. She was able to let out strangled gasps and cries. John was thrashing around. Mary had gotten another text.

Eight minutes and counting...

Sherlock glanced at it. He was stopped by an accident. He quickly managed to find a shortcut down through a subway. He just needed Alex to hold on a little longer. 

John managed to let out a small scream, just barely loud enough to hear. He groaned in pain as he tried to sit up. Alex could only manage to get Sherlock's name out. She gasped as she managed to see through a space in the wood. This must be a bonfire. A man was walking towards the pile of wood with a stick lit with fire. He must not know that they were in here.

Better hurry, things are hotting up here... This was what Mary's next text said. She was panicking.

The fire hadn't lit. Alex breathed a sigh of relief. She and John were safe for now. The man was going to get some gasoline to help the lighting along.

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