Though Lestrade had come one small step closer to finding Holmes, his night had been a living hades. He soon wished he wouldn't have ever fallen asleep. All night he was pelted with the terrible thoughts and dreams of hurting his dear friend Lestrade. He soon found sleep to be impossible and only hoped Lestrade would never find him.

Yet in the night he also became more aware of the injuries he had sustained during his abduction: he could tell his face was swollen a bit and that he had received a knot on the back of his head from the blow which had first knocked him into the black realm of unconsciousness.

However, the worst pain came from his stomach. He hadn't had a thing to eat for about two days and he had been hit several times. Though his only thoughts were for Lestrade.

Just as his drowsiness was about to take him back to the torturous nightmares, the horrible voice of Moriarty filled the room. At the sound of the voice, Holmes felt a dark rage well up inside of himself. Though he knew he could not fight nor shout, for he had been restrained from both of those luxuries.

"Well, Holmes," the villain began, "are the accommodations quite to your taste?"

In response Holmes gave a muffled cry which was probably better muffled, for the choice of words he wanted to use.

Holmes then saw Moriarty smirk in the moonlight of the room, as his silhouette moved closer. "Of course you do!!" Moriarty sneered. "Who wouldn't love the company of mice and rats and the soothing darkness??" The fiend then walked over to the detective and laughed in his face, making Holmes roll his eyes and look to the floor in dismay.

"A little disappointed, are we??" Moriarty spoke as he lifted Holmes' chin up under his hand as a mother would to her child, "Whatever for?"

Holmes then tried to strain his head back, but only received a strong thrust to his stomach, a pain very much unwanted. It was so strong that Holmes couldn't help doubling over in pain. However, the devil of a man standing before his weak figure only laughed.

"Soon Holmes, soon," he stated coolly, "soon it will all be over and done with."

All the detective could do was sit there staring with venom-filled eyes towards his captor. He then watched with an icy stare as his arch-enemy left the room, leaving him there tired, hungry, and all alone in the darkness.