The church was silent and dark when I stepped through. I had no doubt that Sherlock had followed me and most likely John followed him, too.
I held my gun at my side as I walked on the creaky floorboards. Candles lit up most of the church and the rest was pitch black.
I looked around uneasily but continued down the aisle.
"Margaret. What a pleasant surprise." I turned sharply towards the priest's voice. He was smiling and standing only a few feet behind me.
"I wish I could say the same." I spat.
"No need to get angry, Margaret. I'm only trying to help." He reasoned.
"So killing people and kidnapping a baby girl is helping?" I questioned.
"I was not killing them. I was saving them." He clasped his hands together.
"How is that considered saving people?" I asked.
"They are now angels. They're in a better and safer place." He said.
I then remembered the child and it's empty crib "The baby. You took the baby, where is she?" I demanded.
"Somewhere safe." He said.
I glared at him and lifted my gun up threateningly. "Tell me where she is or I shoot." I kept my face straight and didn't even blink.
"Now you wouldn't do that. We both know that." He said and kept his hands clasped in front of him.
"I beg to differ. I would gladly pull this trigger on you. You've done nothing to proof that you deserve any mercy." I threatened.
His smile faltered.
"I was only helping them. God is watching over us and protects us." He straightened up and lifted his chin a bit.
"This has nothing to do with God. All I need to know is why you killed them." I demanded.
The Priest sighed. "There isn't enough angels out there. Not enough to watch over London much less Europe."
Well this guy is obviously crazy. His pupils were dilated and his hands were sweating.
"How did you know? About my family and...friend?" I had to know.
"I have my resources. I've been told to watch after you. My boss sees you as a threat and that's not the best position to be in." He chuckled humorlessly.
"Who's your boss? What does he know about me?" I questioned.
"He knows everything about you." The Priest said.
"I seriously doubt that." I smirked.
"Well he certainly knows a lot." The Priest took a step towards me. I remained motionless.
I could practically feel Sherlock and John's gaze burning into my face. I knew they were here somewhere. I looked around until I saw a flash of blue in one of the stained glass windows. Sherlock's scarf.
I instantly looked away so as to not give away their position.
I looked back at the Priest to see him standing even closer. Only six feet away.
"Too bad your friends couldn't be here. The infamous Detective and his little Blogger. What a fascinating couple." He mused.
"You wish Sherlock was here. I'm not near patient as he is and that's saying something." I snarled.
He raised his eyebrows in amusement.
"Now back to the problem at hand. Tell me where the girl is." I narrowed my eyes at him before adding harshly, "Now!"
He smirked and I looked at him carefully.
The silence was deafening until I heard a slow beeping sound. Like a bomb was ticking away.
I glanced around to locate the noise before realizing it was coming from the bench beside me.
"What's under the bench?" I asked the Priest.
"Oh you are clever! Sherlock better watch his job with you around. I'd hate to see what he would do after a month of boredom." He smiled sinisterly. "You didn't really think I'd let you get away with all of this information did you?"
I controlled my anger by pushing it aside for later. Adrenaline coursed through my veins but I managed to keep my hand steady. Just barely.
"So you're risking your own life by bombing the church? Just to get rid of me?" I clarified.
"Like I said, my boss sees you as a threat. It's still a mystery to me as why he hasn't gotten rid of Sherlock yet. Must be saving it for later." The Priest thought out loud.
"Who is your boss? You're going to kill me anyway, might as well tell me." I smirked.
"Now what kind of surprise would that be? Not a very good one, although I would love to see your face if I told you." The Priest said. "Oh and my apologies, I haven't told you my name. Father Luther Frames." He nodded his head.
Father Frames took another step towards me and I fought the instinct to back up. I stood with my gun still trained on him steady.
"What are you waiting for? Why haven't you shot me yet?" Father Frames tilted his head and looked me in the eyes.
"I have my reasons." I said. He was the only person who knew where the baby was.
I started looking for clues. I looked at the floor and saw a footprint, not mine, heading towards the side door that led to the bottom of the church. I hadn't seen it when I came in because it wasn't there before. Was Sherlock in here?
I looked back over at Father Frames a second after my observation and saw that he had moved closer to me. Only three feet separated us.
I heard the beeping getting faster and faster. It was about to blow.
Father Frames leapt at me suddenly and pushed me back and even closer to the bomb. I grabbed his wrist and twisted it behind his back.
He whined in pain and glared at me. The candle light reflected in his eyes as he looked at me and tried to push me into the bench that held the bomb.
I side stepped him and held his wrist tightly behind his back.
I had to get out of here if I even had a chance of surviving. Another thought occurred to me. Sherlock and John don't know about the bomb.
Driven by the thought of them getting hurt, I forced the priest to his knees and kicked him square in the back with my small heels.
He stumbled forward to the floor and I took that as my chance to run.
I ran to the front door and the beeping got even faster. I pushed the door open and ran out into the graveyard out front.
No houses were nearby thankfully and the tombstones were farther out from the church.
I ran down the steps and down the walkway. I looked around frantically for a glimpse of John's sandy blonde hair or Sherlock's scarf. I hoped I had imagined his scarf back in the church and that they were safe in their flat or even at the crime scene.
I was halfway down the sidewalk when I heard the bomb go off. My mind just registered the explosion and then I was thrown through the air.
The walk was suddenly gone from beneath my feet and the wind was blowing in my face. Everything went silent and I could only hear a ringing in my ears.
I landed on my shoulder and heard it crack. I didn't feel anything though.
The bomb wasn't big but managed to catch the whole place on fire. I lay still as I fought to catch my breath. I was hyperventilating but I was...calm? I didn't feel a need to panic. The murderer must be dead and nobody was around to get hurt.
My hearing was still just a ring in my ears and the crackling of the fire was muffled.
I rolled over so I lay on my back. My head hurt and I could feel blood running down the side of my face.
I heard a muffled screaming and turned my head towards where I thought it was coming from.
I saw two figures through my bleary vision. One was tall and the other was short. My vision was blurring as the figures raced towards me.
One of the faces finally came into focus.
Sherlock's eyes looked rather worried but relieved that I could still move slightly.
John was a mess. He had a few tears running down his cheeks and his hair was sticking up in all directions. His shirt was grass stained and his pants had a slight tear in it.
"Maggie? Maggie, can you hear me?" Sherlock's muffled voice brought me out of my daze. I moved my eyes over to him and they widened.
"The baby?" I asked and looked worriedly at the burning church.
I looked back over at John and Sherlock. John was looking down at the ground and Sherlock's gaze was fixed on me.
They didn't save her?
"Lestrade is on the way with a fire crew and an ambulance." Sherlock informed both me and John.
"Stay awake, Maggie. Keep your eyes open and focus on my voice." Sherlock's blue-green eyes were burning into my blue ones.
But I was tired. I'm sure I can close them for a second. Just a second.
My eyes drooped and John shook me slightly saying I had to keep my eyes open.
I bit my bottom lip and focused on the small bit of pain it caused. I still couldn't hear well but the ringing was going down now. Just a bit.
"John can't you do something. You were an army doctor." Sherlock said, desperation barely detectable in his voice.
"I don't have any equipment but I can fix her shoulder." John said and placed his hand on my shoulder. I winced slightly at the bit of pain but it faded quickly.
He looked into my eyes before returning his focus on my shoulder.
I felt the pressure in my shoulder increase before it snapped back into place. I kept my face emotionless and focused on the church.
The flames rose high in the sky and ashes fell to the ground. The sky was clouded in thick smoke and I could no longer see the stars.
I soon heard sirens whistling close-by and my eyes started to droop again.
I didn't look around when the siren came up beside the church. I studied the flames and silently grieved over the loss of the child and even the priest briefly. It wasn't his fault his brain was poisoned by disease.
I heard muffled voices around me and saw a light being shined in my eyes. I felt my body rise just as it had when the church had blown. I was laid on a gurney and was being wheeled into an ambulance. I kept my eyes on the church.
However, I looked over to see Sherlock arguing with a paramedic trying to place an orange blanket around his shoulders. Then Sherlock pointed at me urgently and his voice made its way to my eardrums, muffled but audible.
"I'm going with her! Can't you see she needs help?" Sherlock was yelling.
"I'm sorry sir but you can't come. We can notify you when you are able to see her but-" His voice was cut off by another paramedic slamming the door of the ambulance and sitting on the bench next to my gurney.
He put an oxygen mask on my head and told me to breath deeply. I closed my eyes and felt my breathing slow. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I passed out.