Elusive

"Did you want to come along, Aria?" John asked, on his way out with Sherlock to another crime scene.

"Oh, no, I think I'll stay in tonight, John," Aria said with a grimace. The last time she tagged along, she was lucky enough to catch one of the more gruesome murders. Detective Lestrade had to keep her company outside as she almost passed out from the trauma.

"Besides, I have work tomorrow," she sighed, closing the book in her lap. "I think I'll clean up around here and take the opportunity to relax while you guys are out."

"Understandable," John said.

"You two have fun though," Aria said, climbing from the couch and stretching her arms over her head. "And take care of each other."

"We will, don't worry," he replied with a soft smile. "We'll try not to be too late tonight."

Aria saw him off from the front door as he climbed into a cab with Sherlock. The dark haired man bid her goodbye with a short nod before the car pulled away and merged with the traffic. It was soon to be late afternoon, but their destination wasn't far.

"Aria is nice, isn't she?" John asked, out of the blue.

Sherlock was silent, eyes on the passing buildings before he turned slowly to look at the fair haired man beside him. John looked at him with large, dark eyes as he awaited some kind of response to his observation.

"Nice, but quite plain," Sherlock muttered, turning his attentions away again. "Though she does have her uses."

"Sherlock," the other man said, not liking the way in which he was referring to her.

"It is a little odd though…"

"What?"

"Her motions," he mumbled. "They seem… measured."

John's brows came together and his face twisted in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," Sherlock said quickly. "It's nothing, John."

John was too busy dwelling on the words himself to ask him about it anymore, so silence reigned in the small space of the cab as it maneuvered smoothly through the streets.

. . .

Aria should've known that there was some sort of ulterior motive when Sherlock and John invited her to go on a little trip out of town. Everything seemed innocent enough and she was absolutely charmed by the small, friendly town they had taken her to. She started to grow suspicious when Sherlock started doing the calculating stares and asking odd questions. She realized that she'd been duped when the consulting detective started to urge her to become familiar with the freckled farmer's boy.

Now she was standing at the produce stand in question, captivating the strapping young man with coy smiles and playful banter. Aria hadn't learned much yet, but the information digging could wait until later. For now, she concentrated on the art of social courting, which was relatively easy for her by now. Aria learned at an early age how to manipulate things around her to get what she wanted and this was no different.

"You're obviously not from around here," he grinned, his bright blue eyes admiring her. "I'm Martin. What's your name?"

"I'm Aria," she replied, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I'm just doing some traveling, trying to see the world. This is a nice town though."

"Aria, I grew up here. I could show you around," Martin offered, dark brows arching in what seemed like hope. "I mean, if you want."

"I'd like that," Aria said with a shy smile.

"Great! I can pick you up this evening at six," he said, smiling in relief. "Are you staying at Mrs. Hurst's Inn?"

"Yes," she nodded, stepping away. "Six it is then. I'll see you tonight, Martin."

"Alright, Aria, take care," he bid, shortly before another customer started pestering him for attention as she walked away.

"Well?" Sherlock ambushed her as soon as she rounded the corner, making her pull back as his nose came inches from hers.

"This is terrible, I can't believe you're making me do this," Aria frowned, swatting the tall man's face away from hers as she handed him the bag of vegetables. "That poor guy looks like he's practically in love already and has no idea that I'm just scheming him."

"Perfect!" Sherlock burst, a little titter rising from him as he looked down at the bag in confusion before passing it to John.

"It's alright, Aria," John assured her. "With your cooperation, well be able to get to the bottom of these disappearances. All the victims so far are foreigners and that young man might be the one behind all of it."

"You're using me as bait?" Aria asked. "I expected this from Sherlock, but I didn't expect it from you, John."

"No, no, no, it's not like that," John said quickly, looking horrified. "I'm sorry, Aria, but Lestrade hasn't made any headway since this started months ago. I don't like the idea either, but you're the only one we can think of for this sort of thing."

"He's right," Sherlock said. "Whoever is behind this is smart and field officers attract too much attention. You're unassuming enough to pass as a silly girl who's too naive to be traveling alone. I'm quite sure the culprit will pounce on you right away, but I'd like to glean some information before that happens."

"You're so reassuring, Sherlock," Aria muttered dryly. "Thanks."

"Come on, let's get back to the Inn and tell Mrs. Hurst the good news," John suggested in a low tone.

They made their way back and went their separate ways so Aria could prepare for her 'date'. The old woman, Mrs. Hurst was the one who had contacted them with her concerns over the missing travelers, but she seemed more upset about not getting paid for the days where they failed to return. Upon their arrival, Aria was given a room to herself while Sherlock and John took the room adjacent to hers. It wasn't their intention, but the two men ended up being known as the gay couple she befriended upon their arrival. As far as anyone else knew, Aria was traveling by herself.

. . .

Aria groaned quietly as she returned to awareness. It took her all of a moment to realize that she was lying on a cold, stone floor in the darkness. She opened her eyes, slowly taking in her damp surroundings and rubbing the back of her head. She sighed, closing her eyes again as she tried to recall the events that took place before she ended up unconscious in a questionable cellar.

She and Martin were laughing before he excused himself from the table. When he came back, he suggested that he show her some place special to him and Aria easily agreed. He lead her through the side streets and made sure she wouldn't stumble. Then try as she might, she couldn't remember any events that transpired after that. Aria winced, pushing herself up on her arms as she tried to make out the shapes in the shadow. Nothing moved and the only sound present was dripping water from a distant corner.

Aria sat up straight and climbed onto her feet. From what she was able to gather, she was now the latest victim. Cursing both John and Sherlock under her breath, she tried to search for something to use as a weapon. She'd be damned if she ended up being one of those useless damsels in distress. Ultimately, she found what felt like a trowel and jabbed it experimentally into the air. With that taken care of, she traced the perimeter of the cellar and found a short wooden set of stairs leading to a thick wooden door.

Lifting her arms, she pushed and was disappointed when it didn't budge. Instead, she fingered the gaps and pressed her face up against the wood. Fresh air leaked through and the clear night sky hung overhead. But then there was movement and a shadow fell over the door. Aria jerked back and tumbled down the stairs as something smashed against it. She scrambled back onto her feet as the door was flung open and she lunged forward with the trowel poised for attack.

There was a short yell of surprise as she brutally jabbed the blunt end of the trowel into the figure's ribs. She and the man collapsed into the grass, then she drew her arm back again for another strike. But a hand caught her wrist and forced her to stop. There was something familiar about the body beneath her and when she caught a whiff of cologne she immediately sat up.

"Greg?" Aria whispered, squinting at him through the dark.

"Bloody hell, Aria," the detective inspector sat up, nursing the area that she viciously stabbed. "What the hell was that?"

"It's a trowel," she said, holding it up. "I'm sorry. I thought you were- What are you doing here? How did you find me? Where's John and Sherlock?"

"I'd just arrived when I saw you walking off somewhere with that fellow," Lestrade said, looking around to make sure no one was watching them. "I didn't see Sherlock or John, so I followed you."

"They were supposed to be tailing us," Aria said, worry etching into the lines on her face. "What if something happened to them?"

"Don't worry. Those two always take care of each other," Lestrade said, reaching forward and squeezing her shoulder. "Right now, we need to worry about ourselves."

"Right," she murmured after a short silence.

Aria never imagined, she would spend the evening wandering an eerie old farm steeped in darkness and ominous shadows. She expected there might be some trouble, but nothing like this. This was like a scene from a horror movie. But Aria was fortunate that Lestrade managed to find her and she wasn't alone as they crept the premises in search of clues.

“Holy- What the fuck is that?” Aria hissed, reeling back and clapping her hand over her mouth.

The fingers of her other hand tightened around the stiff material of the man’s coat and she ended up burying her nose into the back of his shoulder when she was assaulted with an awful smell. It was sickeningly familiar and she immediately knew that she didn’t want to hear an answer to her question.

“Well… it happens to be a bin of what appears to be human innards and other things,” Detective Inspector Lestrade replied upon further inspection. “I’d say we’re in the right place.”

“I’m going to be sick,” she muttered tugging on his waist. “Now I’m really worried about those boys.”

“If anything did happen to them, they would be here,” he turned and observed Aria’s wide eyes through the dark.

“Isn’t this an instance where you’re supposed to take me to safety first before coming back and saving the day?” Aria asked with a frown.

“Is that what you’d like me to do, Miss Royale?”

“Oh, no,” she replied quickly. “I’m not going anywhere until I know those two are alright. And I feel like if I leave you, you’ll end up hacked to bits by the psycho killer.”

“That’s precisely what I assumed,” he said, shaking his head and moving to continue forward.

Aria swallowed and tried to gain a hold on her rampant fear as she traced his stealthy footsteps to near perfection. He held his gun in his hands and they advanced in nerve wracking silence, senses piqued for any and everything that might be out to harm them. But they realized a little too late that it was too silent for a night in the countryside.

Something sprang out of the shadows nearby.

“Look out!” Aria shouted, striking with her trowel towards the shadows.

A strong hand grabbed her by the wrist and pressured her to drop it. She yelped as she was yanked around and restrained with an arm around her neck, her other arm harshly yanked up behind her back enough for her to cry out in pain. Another shadow stepped out and swiftly bat the gun out of Lestrade’s hand. The moonlight caught the edges of a large axe as it arced in the air.

“Stop it!” She cried desperately when she realized the danger he was in.

The figure stopped, considering her for a moment before the weapon dropped back to his side. Instead, Lestrade was struck hard enough with the opposite end to send him into unconsciousness.

“You’re hurting her,” the man with the axe said.

“A little pain won’t kill her, idiot,” the other replied, unrelenting in his grip. “Besides, she’s the one who escaped. Punishment usually follows disobedience.”

“M-Martin?” Aria uttered, unable to see clearly. But the voice was unmistakable.

“I’m so sorry, Aria,” he said. “He promised me.”

“What are you talking about? Why are you doing this?” She gasped, wincing in pain.

“Look, she’s one of them,” the one holding her sneered. “She’s here to get me.”

“What did you do with my friends?" Aria asked, fighting the panic welling in her chest. "What do you want with me?"

"I took care of that couple long before I snatched you," he sneered. "All we have to do is get rid of the cop and no one will know what happened to you."

"No. You leave him alone," she cried. "And let go of me!"

She struggled despite the pain and he clamped a strong hand over her mouth, silencing her as Martin hesitated. Aria looked to him, questioning his role in this with desperation. If he wouldn't help her, she and Lestrade would be done for. She tried to call for help, but her screams were stifled and in vain.

"Grab that one and toss him back. I'll clean everything up later," the other hissed.

"What will you do with her?" Martin asked.

"I'll deal with her," he snapped. "You can't have her all to yourself, Martin."

"No, Owen, you promised me that you wouldn't touch her." Martin retaliated.

Owen shifted his hand and covered her nose, stopping her from being able to breathe. Aria tried to shake her head and squirmed in his grasp once she realized he meant to suffocate her. Her tiny noises were practically nothing in the dark and she struggled desperately as her lungs began to burn. Soon black spots took over her vision until she could no longer see Martin's figure or Lestrade's unconscious body illuminated in the moonlight. Aria felt her body fall limp and her eyes fluttered closed.

. . .

Aria woke for the second time that evening to find her limbs tied to the posts of a dusty bed. She cursed quietly, glancing around the room as she began to twist her wrists in their bonds. The bed was old, but unfortunately sturdy and she doubted that she could break the wood as opposed to her wrists. Oddly enough, she wasn't a stranger to circumstances similar to this, but it was an entirely different thing to be put here by a madman. Aria was always familiar with her enemies and knowing nothing about the ones now was horribly unnerving.

But she had to free herself and find Lestrade before something terrible happened to him. Aria exhaled in frustration and she strained her arms against the course rope grinding into her flesh. When the door suddenly opened her eyes flew to the man standing in it.

"Martin?" She asked quietly, recognizing the face in the dim lighting. But she quickly realized that she was mistaken and this man was not the person she knew. Aria narrowed her eyes at him as her lips drew into a scowl. "Who are you?"

A grin twisted his features and she drew her breath slowly in an effort to calm her wavering nerves. Aria was stubborn and steeled herself for the worst possible scenario. At the same time, she couldn't help but worry about John, Sherlock, and Lestrade. What happened to them? Were they hurt? Or had they been killed? Aria tightened her jaw and hardened her gaze.

"I'm Owen. As you may have noticed, I'm Martin's twin brother," he mused aloud with amusement. "Those other girls were cows. No wonder Martin likes you so much. You have that look in your eye… I wonder how you got it."

Aria watched as he moved over to a small table where he started to fiddle with a collection of glass vials and syringes. She shifted uneasily, trying her bonds again as he drew a dose of something without a word. She was beginning to sweat from her struggles, but he was in no hurry as he stepped up to the side of her bed and brushed his fingers over her arm.

"Don't you dare!" She cried out, trying in vain to shy away as he brought the needlepoint to her skin.

"This is just a little something to help you relax," he said, inserting the needle into her arm and pressing down on the plunger. "I'll be back in a bit to check on you."

Aria was determined to remain unaffected by what he had just administered. But as soon as he shut the door, her head flopped back onto the pillow and her limbs began to feel extremely heavy. At this rate, she wouldn't be able to do anything or help anyone.

It must have been a little less than a couple of hours when she noticed the door open again through a heavy haze. Aria struggled to regain her control, but it was like floating in a thick cloud. Something cold brushed against her face and she immediately jerked away. She squinted her eyes up and was distressed to find Owen standing over her, dragging a large kitchen knife over her skin.

"I'm afraid your friends are causing a little too much trouble for my tastes," he sighed. "I'll have to clean this all up quickly and get away. I would've liked to spend more time with you, but unfortunately…"

Aria's heart jumped up to her throat when she realized that he was insinuating that she was going to be killed. She winced as he cut a tear on the front of her dress, exposing her chest. Then he pressed the tip of the blade to her skin with just enough force to cut and draw blood. Aria yelped as he slowly carved a shallow x into her chest.Then he raised it high in the air, gripping the handle with both hands with the full intent of bringing it down and embedding it in the center of his mark.

She squeezed her eyes shut, fully anticipating the moment in which she'd meet her death. But a loud gunshot rang out, making her jump and look up as Owen's hand released the knife. It clattered to the ground as he whirled in anger. Aria winced when another gunshot shattered the air and he fell.

"Oh God, Aria," John's voice was lined in panic. "Are you alright?"

"He drugged me with something," Aria murmured, watching him untie her bonds in a daze. "Otherwise... I'm fine. Where's Lestrade?"

"He's fine, we managed to get him before anything happened," John said, helping her sit up as he inspected the fresh cuts on her chest. "You're bleeding. Can you walk?"

"Yes, don't look so worried," she said, rising onto her feet with his help.

John watched her inch forward on her own for a couple of minutes before he stepped forward and scooped her up into his arms without any warning. Aria threw her arms around his neck with a yelp of surprise, sighing as he carried her out of the room and through the hallways. She couldn't even walk on her own, let alone save anyone.

"What happened to Martin?" She asked after a pause.

"We haven't seen him," John replied, rounding the corner and stopping suddenly before stepping back.

Something was wrong. Aria blinked, but remained silent as he set her down on the ground with quiet instructions to stay put. She let her head fall back against the wall behind her as he rose back onto his feet and continued on without her. She wasn't sure what was going on, but she felt herself floating in and out of focus until some ruckus could be heard a short distance away. Aria climbed to her feet and let her hand guide her along the wall to the door. No one was outside, but something glimmered in the grass in the low lantern light. Stumbling forward, she dropped to the ground and lifted John's gun from the dirt.

It was a familiar and distant feeling, she mused squeezing the cold metal and testing the weight of it in her hand. Aria looked down at the gun, turning it over and placing her finger above the trigger, along the lower side of the barrel. She drew a breath, centering herself on reality before she was ready to move forward.

Voices were coming from around the side of the barn and Aria pushed herself towards them. She dragged her feet clumsily, but in the quietest manner possible. Pressing her face against the splintering wood on the corner of the house, she peered around to see John, Sherlock, and Lestrade clustered together. It was Martin who was threatening them with a hunting rifle and Aria drew a breath as she slipped from her spot to tread through the thick shadows. She didn't know how she could intervene when the stakes seemed so high.

But things took a turn for the worst as Martin raised the firearm and the group flinched as their voices rose. Aria grit her teeth and lifted her arm quickly as she released the safety, hooking her finger over the trigger and squeezing. She involuntarily flinched as a loud bang tore through the air. She watched, suddenly sober as Martin's figure froze and eventually crumpled to the ground. She felt a pang of guilt in her chest as John and Lestrade recovered and rushed towards her.

"Is he dead?" Aria asked Sherlock as he stepped up and inspected the body.

Sherlock merely glanced up at her and nodded his head.

"Fuck," she swore under her breath as John gently pried the gun from her death grip.

"You alright, Aria?" Lestrade asked. "Just hold on. Back up should be arriving soon."

"She might be suffering from a bit of shock," John muttered as Sherlock came over. "Just stay with her."

Aria was going to insist that she was fine, like she always did. But she decided to remain quiet for now and instead gave them a small smile. Everyone was safe and that was all that mattered at the moment. They spoke amongst themselves and Sherlock was rambling about the details of had transpired. Aria was too exhausted to listen and instead she was slowly lulled to sleep by the low tones of their voices.

"This was fun," she said lightly, resting her head on Lestrade's shoulder. "Let's do it again."