In which I answer my own word challenge using the trotting, cataclysmic and nanosecond whilst referring to knitting.
The Uninvited Guest
"John!" Sherlock's urgent voice stopped the doctor in his tracks as he prepared to open the lid of an odd little box on the kitchen table. "For God's sake, do not open that box!"
"Whatever for?" John asked as he prepared to open it anyway.
"If you love your life, you will not open it!"
John paused, casting a suspicious glance as his suddenly anxious flatmate. Sherlock had frozen in place. His gaze was fixed upon the box in John's hand.
"Put it down at once!" Sherlock began demanding, then paused, "Please."
At that, a visibly annoyed, yet curious, John slowly lowered the box to the table. Sherlock all but snatched the box from the table, making sure the lid was still affixed tightly and promptly squirreled it away to the confines of his bedroom.
Emerging a moment later, he couldn't help but notice John still standing rooted in place, looking at him in growing annoyance.
"What," John started. "Was that all about?"
"Arachnidia chawtrumia." Sherlock said as if that explained everything.
"Which tells me that box held some sort of spider and judging by your reaction it's got to be poisonous."
"And then some." Sherlock was actually rubbing his hands in glee.
"And you just hid it somewhere in this flat. You expect me to get sleep over this? Knowing your love of poisons and a having a venomous spider?"
"It's quite safe, so long as it stays in its box."
"And I am to believe this why?"
"The Chawtrumia Spider prefers to stay in tight, dark spaces. It's odd that way. Cave-like. It's a relatively new species and its venom hasn't yet been fully studied."
"And you've got one in this flat..."
"Obviously. Fascinating little creature. Prefers to knit its webs in small dark places, and attracts prey by trotting about waving its legs and making you think its all happy to see you." Sherlock actually waved his hands about. "It's really just luring you in, drawing you closer. It's got a bite faster than a nanosecond and the venom!" Sherlock was positively animated and enthusiastic. He clapped his hands together. "The venom!"
"Kills you in two steps? Again you have a live one in this flat why?"
"Actually it's a very sneaky poison. It drains the energy out of you. Kills any joy or happiness in your life. It then literally sucks the life out of you and leaves a husk. Horrible way to go. A two-stepper would be merciful and quick. This one can take years to kill you..."
"Sherlock." John's voice held a subtle but dangerous edge. "It goes. Now."
"But it's venom still needs analy..." Sherlock sputtered.
"Now." John said flatly, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Or I call the Exterminators."
Minutes later, Sherlock, looking put out and pouting, carried the box downstairs."Spoil sport," he muttered as John watched him and the box leave their flat.
"Better me having you get rid of it than Mrs. Hudson." John shot back.