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Dark Rituals	By : MarianTheBlackadder Category: S through Z > Sherlock Holmes (2009) > Sherlock Holmes (2009) Views: 3327 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I in no way own any rights to or make any profit from Sherlock Holmes the book, the movie, or any other medium concerning these characters. This is a non-profit story for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter List
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Theory
            “I have a theory.” Sherlock said breaking the silence as he paced back and forth in his rooms.
            “You usually do.” Watson answered not looking up from the newspaper he was reading.
            “I would think that sacrificing the first born would dictate that it be a boy offered up, not a girl.” He stated.
            Watson furrowed his brow and looked at Holmes. “That’s more of an observation then a theory.”
            “I’m not finished.” Sherlock said continuing to pace slowly, his mind somewhere else as he turned the facts over in his mind. “What would having a son accomplish that having a daughter could not? A son could continue the family line, the family name, no doubt one day take his place in the house of Lords, putting the Blackwood’s back in power from a legal standpoint. A daughter could do none of those things. She could simply become married, take on another’s name. However, if she was simply to be another sacrifice to add to Lord Blackwood’s collection . . . wouldn’t it be more prudent to wait until she’s of an age of maturity? Somewhere along the same time, the same age as the others?” He speculated.
            “Not if he simply wanted to rid himself of having a daughter all together.” Watson said with an irritated sigh.
            “Yes, but why the desperate need to end her life as soon as possible?” Sherlock asked. “He wouldn’t have had to interact with the child in any capacity, considering Katherine would no doubt have attended her anxiously.”
            Watson thought for a moment, “That simply brings us back to the original statement that he is, indeed, incredibly misogynistic in nature. He hates women.”
            “Yet I cannot but help feel there is something more to this story that we have not yet unveiled. He doesn’t completely hate women; he doesn’t treat Katherine like a slave or prisoner. He dotes on her constantly by her own admission. If he did hate the entire female sex, then she could just as easily be given a servants attire to wear and stay in the basement or cellar until he had need of her.” Holmes explained.
            “Except for the fact that would look extremely bad to his followers, he does have an image to maintain after all.”
            “That image is of a dark, heartless, remorseless creature who is the Devil’s errand boy on earth. Would not having kept a young woman as a consort, not a wife, have only added to said image?” Holmes continued to speculate.
            “What does any of this have to do with the situation at hand?” Watson looked at the time, “Tonight at midnight, one of two things will happen. A christening or a murder. Why does it matter at this point what his motives behind it are? I would think our first priority would be to stop it if at all possible.”
            “I think it might be time for us to make a visit to the home office.” He said starring out the window a few moments.

Birthing Pains
            A blood curdling scream filled the hallways of the house, coming from Katherine’s bedchamber. The servants seemed to be waiting nervously and impatiently having nothing to do. Finally, the doctors that had been sent for arrived and the servants quickly showed them the way.
            It was still several hours before midnight, and it seemed that her water had broken before dawn. The timing was incredible, and a bit unexpected. It could have easily been induced by all the stress and traveling that had gone on during the week. As soon as the doctor began to attend Katherine, Lord Blackwood walked out the doors and stood with Lord Coward.
            “Send for the members of the order immediately. Have them assemble as planned.” He looked towards the doors where more cries could be heard. “The fact that this is occurring naturally and no extra steps had to be taken is more then I could have ever hoped for.” He motioned for Coward to leave and hurry with his task.
            Blackwood went back inside, “Henry?” Katherine called to him. He turned and looked at her with a slight smile. She held her hand towards him, and he immediately went to her side and took it. “Henry . . . please.” She whispered. “Please.” She said a panicked look in her eyes.
            “What are you asking me Katherine?” He said in a calm and gentle voice still holding her hand.
            She swallowed the lump in her throat trying to catch her breath feeling another contraction starting, “Please don’t hurt the baby.” She breathed before she closed her eyes and the pain hit her hard, causing her to cry out. “Please, Henry!” She cried. “Please promise me you won’t hurt my baby.”
            He simply looked into her eyes, reaching over and taking the cloth from the pan of water and squeezing it out a bit before placing it against her face to cool her a bit. “Concentrate, Katherine. Focus on what it is you must do now. Bring our child into this world.” Blackwood looked into her eyes again, “Don’t be afraid.”
            Katherine was afraid, she was terrified. No matter what he said, it couldn’t calm her fears or put her mind to rest.

Ceremonies
            By the time the planned ceremony began, Katherine was well into the active stages of delivery. She had been moved from the bedchamber and was placed on the alter that had been prepared. Two men had to hold her arms and shoulders to keep her down, as she was struggling now. She had made an attempt to free herself when they started to move her, that only endangered her life and the life of the baby. So until the baby was born, she was being restrained so she wouldn’t make a second attempt.
            Her nerve shattering screams filled the hall as Blackwood, dressed in his ceremonial robe stood over her reading from a book of spells in Latin as the doctors aided her however they could.
            “Now?” two figures in the very back of the crowd that had gathered to watch and participate stood closely, hoods pulled down over their heads like the rest of the group.
            “No.” The other replied. In the shadows under the hoods were Watson and Holmes, as this was their last chance to help Katherine. “We can do nothing until the baby is born.” Watson checked his watch, to see how much time was left before the surgeons would step in to ‘lend a hand’.
            Watson was impatient, wanting to go to Katherine now and give her proper help and compassion instead of the cold, unfeeling treatment she was being given. It irritated him beyond belief to see fellow doctors not giving their patient reassurance and encouragement when she was so terrified and scared.
            This went on for well over an hour before the baby’s head finally emerged. A few more moments passed and Katherine’s screams that filled the chamber were replaced by the healthy and loud cry of a newborn baby.
            It seemed like everyone was holding their breath, every eye on the small child that had appeared. Katherine was to exhausted and too weak to try and struggle any longer, or even sit up without help. Still breathing deeply her eyes were fixed on Lord Blackwood, as her body seemed to tremble just waiting. “Behold.” He said in a loud and stern voice. “My son, is born.” With these words, a sense of relief came over Katherine, as her entire body went limp. Her face was almost white as a sheet, and the black circles around her sunken eyes spoke of her exhaustion.
            The baby was wrapped in a blanket as he was passed over to Blackwood, who held him up for all to see. Watson and Holmes looked at each other, as a sense of relief came over them as well.

New Arrivals
            Katherine didn’t remember anything after she saw the baby, and knew he was safe. The next thing she knew, her eyes were opening and she had been returned to her own bed. Covered in clean sheets and dressed in a clean nightgown. Still she was tired, and felt weak but felt over come with anxiousness wanting to see her baby.
            “Henry?” She said hearing someone moving starting to sit up. However it wasn’t Lord Blackwood who appeared but the nursemaid they had hired to look after the baby. “Please?” She said holding out her arms.
            Another maid seemed to appear out of nowhere and helped Katherine sit up, pushing pillows behind her back to support her. The nursemaid walked over with the bundle, and passed the baby into Katherine’s eager arms. The baby was clean from head to toe, and seemed perfectly happy and content in his sleep as he yawned. “Oh he’s beautiful.” She whispered touching his small delicate fingers.
            “Strong and healthy as can be, My Lady.” The nursemaid said. “Has a set of lungs on him, he does. Lets you know when he wants something or doesn’t.”
            Katherine was beaming as she gazed at her son. “Where’s Lord Blackwood?” She asked never once looking up away from the child’s small face.
            “He should be back soon.” The woman replied. “Said he had a few things to see to, but he would return shortly.”
            Everything else seemed to fall away and Katherine forgot that there was anyone or anything else in the world except the small life that she was entrusted with. A smile appeared on her face that had been lost for some time.

Disagreements
            “No.” Blackwood said repeating his answer for the countless time.
            “Please, Henry.” Katherine pleaded with him. “He needs to be baptized.”
            “He’s already been, baptized.” He said in an unwavering tone. Katherine frowned starring at Blackwood. Before, when it was simply her life and her soul that hung in the balance, she simply resisted his temptations and enticements on her own. But now . . . now they had a child, and Katherine felt as though she had to speak for him where he was unable to do so himself. For the most part, Blackwood was pleased that she wanted to look after their son so attentively. But this new attitude of insisting that he be raised in the Christian doctrine, in his mind was completely counterproductive to what he had been trying to accomplish with her beforehand.
            “But I . . .” She started to say only to be cut off in mid sentence by Blackwood.
            “After all this time you have lived with me, in my home . . . you still fail to see the gravity of the way things are to be done.” He said looking into her eyes, as Katherine could almost feel a dark shadow cast over the room. “Do you think that our beliefs are merely fantasy? To be taken lightly, and discarded whenever we choose?”
            Katherine grew silent as that familiar lump started to swell and tighten in her throat. “I feel they are somewhat misguided.” She said in a soft voice. Blackwood’s look darkened when he heard her say this. “You chose what you wanted to believe, immersed yourself in these beliefs . . . . how can you choose what our son is to believe . . . when he is too young to choose for himself.”
            Blackwood was now, officially, incredibly displeased with not only her words but her defiance that seemed only grow bolder with their child’s birth. Within moments, his demeanor changed extensively, causing Katherine to wilt and shy away somewhat. Suddenly, without warning he lunged for her, and she attempted to get away to no avail.
            Grabbing her by the back of her neck and hair, he jerked her head back holding her in place. The tight vice like grip he held her with was unbearably painful and she held absolutely still. Blackwood took a moment to control himself somewhat before leaning next to her ear, “I’ve been more then patient with you. Far more then I should have been. I’ve invited you, enticed you, to see things as they are. To choose willingly to stand by my side in my endeavors and aid me in the purpose I was placed here for.” He hissed into her ear. “Now, I think a new approach is going to be taken in your indoctrination.” Suddenly, he threw her forward causing her to trip and fall. Before she could get to her feet, he walked up and grabbed the back of her dress pulling her up pushing her towards the door. He slammed it open, before throwing her forward out the door again, then slamming it behind.

Post
            Watson walked into the common rooms that both he and Sherlock shared, and automatically went over to the curtain throwing it open to let light in. A holler from Holmes didn’t seem to phase him a bit as he shuffled through the days post.
            “Is there anything worth mentioning in today’s cascade of mail.” Holmes asked.
            “It depends, I suppose, on what you feel is worth mentioning.” He tossed Holmes the newspaper and leaned against a table starting to open a few of the letters. Sherlock opened the paper and started to thumb through it. He stopped seeing a picture of two familiar faces. “There are a few requests here from people who would like to hire your services.” Watson mentioned.
            “There usually are.” Holmes replied. “Most of which can be solved and answered with common sense, and I find incredibly boring.” Another moment passed as Holmes finish reading the article. “Here’s a familiar pair of faces.” Watson walked to Holmes and leaned over to see what he was looking at.
            “Katherine, and Blackwood.” Watson stated recognizing the two faces immediately. “Not exactly hiding his face these days is he.” Both men’s eyes were then directed to the third small face in the picture.
            “I see no resemblance.” Holmes commented.
            “We both stood in attendance at the baby’s birth, surprisingly unnoticed.” Watson said. “Why do you seem somewhat surprised by this article?”
            “Well, here we have what the untrained eye would believe to be a perfectly normal English aristocratic family. Except most people would have to take the time to read the article itself I suppose to know for certain that Katherine was his wife, and not his daughter.” Holmes pointed towards Katherine’s face, “Here’s something new.” He said. “That vacant look in her eyes.”
            “The pictures in the newspaper aren’t to incredibly clear, Holmes.” Watson countered.
            “Even if someone had drawn this by hand, the obvious changes in the young woman are evident.” Watson took the paper from Holmes and studied it closer. He did notice now what Holmes was talking about.
            “It’s an incredibly blank expression for a new mother, isn’t it.” Watson said wondering why she looked that way.
            “Is it January?” Holmes asked.
            “The beginning of February.” Watson answered. For a man who made his living by being extremely attentive to detail, he certainly didn’t keep track of time very well. Sometimes he would lose entire weeks, not really too concerned about the passing of the days.
            “Three months, nearly to the day since the child was born.” He observed.
            “The killings haven’t begun again. Perhaps Blackwood decided he’s gained enough power and has turned his attention towards family matters.” Watson said a bit hopeful.
            “I get the feeling that you may be correct. Although the attention he’s turned towards family matters are perhaps not as wholesome as one would think.” Sherlock said taking the newspaper back and looking at the page again. “We’ve established quite well the sort of environment Katherine was raised in, and was destined to become the inhabitant of a nunnery as soon as she came of an age to enter. Indoctrination set so deeply into a persons mind is not so easily uprooted.”
            “Blackwood himself told you that pure innocents is not easy to corrupt.” Watson said reminding him of those words.
            “So what do you do in that situation?” He asked. “Put yourself in Blackwood’s most devious and self serving shoes for the briefest of moments. Here is a young woman, that is your wife, that you see more than anyone else in existence, know more intimately then any other. Except for one thing, her beliefs do not only differ from yours, but it is as basic as the age old struggle of Good versus Evil. Her head is completely full of what is right and wrong, most of which contradicts your own beliefs, and ambitions.” Watson thought and considered everything Sherlock was saying. “Now add into that equation a child, and imagine what sort of conflicts would arise between you and your beloved when it comes to that child’s upbringing. You can’t exactly divorce the only women who is fit . . . in your eyes, to bring your children into the world. So what do you do?”
            “I suppose . . . . I would want to wipe the slate clean.” Watson said. “Get everyone on the same page to minimize conflicts of interests. To have my son raised the way I see fit, and in my own beliefs.”
            “Precisely.” Holmes said.
            “Brainwashing?” Watson inquired, “To do that with one who was eager to enroll in a convent for life, someone would have to scrub her gray matter with steel wool.” The doctor said crossing his arms over his chest.
            “He does have the means necessary. He controls every part of her life, every aspect. How she dresses, where she goes, what she eats, what she reads, where she sleeps, who if anyone she interacts with. Not to mention a whole legion of followers that would be eager to see his will be done regardless of who it effects.” Holmes said.
            “If that’s true, he’s had three months with which to implement his new life regiment for her. There wouldn’t be anything we could do to help her.” Watson said.
            ”Maybe. It depends just how strong minded . . . . strong willed she is.” Holmes said. “Perhaps a visit might be prudent to ascertain if it is a completely hopeless venture or not to even consider melding.” Watson just looked at Sherlock a bit suspicious.
            “Under what grounds? Blackwood won’t let us within ten miles of her, and we most certainly haven’t been hired to interfere.” Watson pointed out.
            “I believe you were the one who were concerned with her well being, yes?” Holmes answered. “I suppose this could be considered a follow-up appointment after everything to see how the patient is progressing in her recovery.”
            Watson gave him a look, and Sherlock smiled back. “Alright, Holmes.” Watson relented. “But we’re going to have to do this differently than last time. Kidnapping or abducting didn’t exactly work out for anyone, and could have only made matters worse of Katherine or the baby had been injured on that wild ride through the country.”

Formal Affairs
            “You could have done a little better.” Watson said under his breath as he and Holmes were shown in through the hall. “It is a ball after all.” Watson was completely decked out from head to toe in his formal dress uniform neat and rather handsome. Holmes . . . was somewhat less than spectacular. He was dressed properly for the occasion but his best effort certainly wasn’t put into getting ready.
            “Sorry, dear. Am I embarrassing you?” Holmes goaded him as they walked through the crowd.
            “I thought the whole point of this endeavor was to not draw attention to ourselves.” He said.
            “Then maybe you should have asked a woman to the ball as your date, instead of your male somewhat crazed roommate.” He said continuing to tease the tense doctor. “I bathed and changed my clothes.” He said in his defense.
            “Really, Holmes.” Watson said with a roll of his eyes. “You wanted an opportunity to see Katherine, in a social surrounding so that Blackwood wouldn’t be able to make a scene or accuse us of trespassing. I received this invitation and intended to decline until I found that they would be attending.”
            “Six months of searching for an indirect way to contact this woman, and a ball is all you could come up with? Truly?” Holmes said.
            “They don’t stay very long, Holmes. Blackwood puts in appearance, Katherine on his arm as an accessory . . . and then they’re gone. Hopefully this time we arrived before they did.” Watson said searching the faces in the crowd. “Not to mention, unlike dinner houses and other functions, there is dancing at this particular social gathering.”
            “I think a large part of your plan is hinging on the possibility that Blackwood allows Katherine to dance with anyone. It wouldn’t surprise me if the man had a collar around her neck with a chain attached to his wrist at all times.” Holmes said.
            They both continued to search the crowd before their eyes found the two faces they had been endeavoring to find. It wasn’t as though they were hard to locate once they entered the room. The dark colors in which they were shrouded, the majority of which being onyx black, tended to drain any uplifting or joyous feeling from the area. Like a moving black hole underneath a dark gloomy cloud.
            “She still hasn’t attempted to brighten her wardrobe.” Sherlock said.
            “Blackwood is still her husband and she told you herself that her clothing was designed and made by his personal specification.”
            “Marvelous. I suppose that’s why their sets of clothing complement each other like a deranged pair of twins.” Holmes said, “Well, Watson. You are a military man. What do you suggest? A frontal assault or a pincer movement from either side?”
            “I think we need to employ a third party.” He said.
            “I quite agree. Which is why I have two others approaching them as we speak. Once she is well away from Blackwood on the dance floor, I believe it shall be our turn to cut in and take a turn with the lovely Lady Blackwood.” Holmes indicated.
            “I suggest we move quickly, Blackwood won’t take his eye off of her for to long, and he’ll recognize us straight away.” Watson said as the two men hurried towards the direction they were certain that she would be going.
            The pair watched their targets intently from different points in the room. Much to their surprise, neither of the individuals that had been paid to aid them in their endeavor was the man to lead her to the dance floor. It seemed one of Blackwood’s associates won her arm as a waltz began to play. After two turns around the floor, one of the men that Holmes had arranged to help them, took the initiative and cut in and continued to waltz around the floor.
            Watson watched as the two approached where Sherlock was standing, seeing Holmes making his stealthy movement to catch the two and cut in next. The doctor’s attention turned towards Blackwood to keep an eye on him and where his attention was directed.
            Katherine was passed off rather smoothly into Holmes’ arms without missing a step or beat. What struck him instantly, was the fact that she didn’t even seem to notice the switch. “Lady Blackwood,” He said. “How nice to meet you again.” Although there didn’t seem to be any sort of measurable response from her at all. Instead, she simply gazed straight forward, a faraway look in her eyes. As though she wasn’t even there. The pupils of her eyes were somewhat larger than any persons in should be in such a well lit room. They were obviously dilated to anyone looking straight at her eyes, despite the enormous amount of dark make up surrounding them.
            Watson kept one eye towards where Sherlock and Katherine were but his main attention was on Blackwood. He was talking to men who were no doubt collages and followers in his order.
            Holmes pulled her body closer, then simply pulled her body hard against his as they continued to move. Still, she continued to dance with him but she seemed as though she was in some sort of trance there physically although not mentally. Sherlock smelled her hair, and fingers moved around her hand until they were pressing against her wrist.
            The doctor frowned, when he saw the man who had taken Katherine to dance in the first place rushed through the crowd to Blackwood and leaned closer saying something in his ear before turning and pointing out Katherine and of course Holmes. “Time to go.” He said before hurrying through the crowd towards Sherlock.
            Soon, the Waltz came to a stop as the swirling mass of men and women slowed to a halt as well. Sherlock stepped back and clapped with the others his eyes never moving from Katherine. Katherine curtseyed in traditional thanks for the dance, but it seemed to be automatic, almost programmed behavior. He studied her another moment, “I’m sorry.” He said simply.
            Watson managed to reach him and grabbed his arm, “It’s past our curfew old friend.” Holmes still starred at Katherine, his stomach turning almost wishing there was something he could do to help her except just stand here like a lump and stare. “Come on Holmes.” He said pulling him away from her as he saw Blackwood’s men approaching. Finally, the inspector seemed to regain his senses and made his exit with the doctor.

Theories
            “I could only see so much from the distance I was at, but she didn’t look very happy to be there tonight.” Watson said as he finished changing from his dress clothes.
            “She wasn’t there at all.” Holmes said leaning back in his chair. “I can’t say for certain where she was, but she wasn’t there.”
            “How so?” Watson inquired. They had been to concerned with escaping with their lives once they were outside the ball and Blackwood had ordered his thugs after them to discuss it. Once they had been successfully averted them, they returned home.
            “Her eyes were dilated, her pulse was rather slow for a young healthy girl who was being taken around the dance floor . . . . . and her skin was cold and somewhat clammy.” He reported.
            Watson slipped his hand in his pocket and stepped closer, “You think she was drugged?” He asked.
            “I know she was drugged.” Holmes answered standing and tossing down the towel with which he had been washing his face. “Chemicals that make her mind extremely receptive to suggestions and commands when properly administered. The only reason I know that for a fact, is because it’s not the first time I’ve encountered such methods.”
            “For what? For keeping her under control?” He asked. “That seems a bit excessive, she was compliant enough with him before. Far more then she should have been in my opinion.”
            “No, not so much for control.” Holmes said looking through the books on the shelves before finding the volume he wanted. “Brainwashing.” He flipped it open finding the page he wanted before handing the book to Watson where he could read. “Apparently, Blackwood’s original plan of overwhelming temptation and charm weren’t working quickly enough for him. In this way, he could hurry along her indoctrination into the beliefs of the Temple of the Four Orders.”
            Watson frowned as he read the page which outlined methods that had been used by cults and other such groups over the ages. Anytime a group or an individual was needed to be completely and utterly devoted to a cause or idea. He shook his head as he closed the book. “She won’t be looking for any sort of outside help now. She won’t be asking for any help at all.”
            “Without doubt, her individuality is being methodically destroyed. Blackwood is rebuilding her into the woman that would be completely dedicated to him, and complicities in his schemes and ambitions.” Holmes took the book back and tapped it slightly with his fingertips. “She has no family, no friends, no one who would question the change in her behavior or the way she’s being treated. She’s completely at his mercy.”
            “Now there won’t be anyone to question how he raises his son either.” Watson added. “Holmes . . . .we can’t simply let this go. You met her, she is a human being with her own thoughts and feelings. With a child of her own.”
            Holmes was quiet a few moments before he spoke, “I can’t say that she and I were on the best of terms the few times she stayed with us. But at least she had some wit, and some fight in herm staunch and strong in her beliefs and convictions. Ready to argue and strong willed, ready to put me in my place if she thought it necessary.” He laced his fingers together and leaned forward. “That creature I held in my arms tonight . . . . .the way she went through the motions, at someone else’s direction, no thought or feeling of her own in her eyes . . . . . sickened me.”
            The two men were quiet for a moment before Sherlock broke the silence, “No, Watson. We can’t let this go.”
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Dark Rituals