~One Week Later~

"I'm back~!" Brent calls as he walks back into the morgue. I shrink away from him as he nears me and he tuts, "Oh now, Susanna, I'm going to do whatever I want no matter what tactics you try. Backing away won't stop me." I glare at him and he chuckles. 

"Stop killing people, Brent! You've got me and I'm sure you're doing plenty to my family and friends already!" He shakes his head. 

"No, everything must be done perfectly so that the finale is a spectacle to remember, Doll! Everyone that I have eliminated plays a part in my scheme. I'm keeping you alive because your part hasn't come in yet." 

"They'll figure this out before you can kill me and any more people, Brent." 

"It's been a week, Dollface, if they haven't figured it out by now then will they ever?" He whistles. 

"Yes." He frowns and kneels in front of me again.

"Oh, Susanna, how much is it going to take until I actually crack that heart of yours?" I press my lips together and he smirks, "I think I'll break you soon enough. I just need to change my strategy." 

"You will not break me." I challenge and he growls.

"Haven't I already begun?" 

Brent stands up and walks to the desk, grabbing a pair of surgical gloves. On cue, his 'assistants' Riley and Sam wheel in yet another body.  I press myself further into the corner of the morgue where I've curled up in and shut my eyes, trying to breathe and regulate the pain from my ever-present migraine. I've been locked up in this morgue for a week. I have seen Brent execute several of his hitmen and targeted bullies, or at least I am forced to see their mutilated corpses when he has them brought in. 

"Almost all of the spaces are full, Brent." I refer to the number of corpses stored in the morgue's refrigerated cells. He laughs. 

"Very good, Susanna, I see my experiments haven't tampered with your mental functions." 

"And they won't." He smiles dangerously at me and has the new corpse put on one of the tables. Then he marches over and yanks me up by my hair, then pushing me to the victim.

"You may not remember this guy, but he was the most arrogant jerk on the football team. Always mocked me for being a bookworm. I showed him though, didn't I?" 

"These people had families, Brent-"

"I don't care! Pain and misery would have come to them anyway." He pulls harder on my hair and I hiss in pain.

"Stop this!"

"Nope!" He tosses me back down to the floor and I catch myself just before my head can hit the tiles. I whimper a bit because of the stinging aches that ripple through me and crawl to the corner again. I haven't been able to take my hair down from its tight ponytail and braid since I woke up here. Brent uses this to his advantage; yanking it randomly, using it to pull me around. I wince and massage the top of my head. If I do get out of here, I hope he doesn't cause me to go bald. 

"Oh, and by the way, we've been watching those detectives. We just to happen to get called to every crime scene. They think these are all simple homicides, which is why they haven't reached us yet. That Sherlock Holmes seems to be rather baffled by your disappearance and the number of homicides. I haven't seen a man get so upset with the police." 

"He'll figure it out. He's done it a million times before and he will do it again." I snap. Brent tsks. 

"Maybe. But there's no way he's going to save you." 

"He doesn't need to. I'll save myself." I counter. He laughs rather wickedly, holding his stomach. 

"You? You can't even walk straight! I wouldn't put a cent on you escaping and saving yourself or anyone else!" I press my lips into a thin line and feel myself go rigid again. 

"Alright, maybe I can't save myself, but I can make sure that Sherlock finds me." 

"You're rather fond of that consulting detective aren't you, Doll."

"He's a good man." 

He chuckles again, "You always did like the freaks." 

"He's not a freak!"

"Then what am I, dollface?" 

"You're a psychopath. Sherlock is a high functioning sociopath- at least in his own mind." 

"Big deal. I'm sure he'll love piecing together the case of Susanna Markwardt's murder," I growl and he laughs again, "I'll make sure to put a confession of your admiration for him on your casket." 

Sherlock.

"I don't intend to die before my time." 

Please.

"Don't care." 

Please find me, Sherlock. If no one else, I know you can. 

Shout out to @VelvetVanity for her support! Thank you for reading!!