Hello fellow earthlings, welcome to the first chapter of Run, Little Rabbit, Run. LizardKind and Blood Hounds and Werewolves are still going so don't worry! Enjoy the first chapter!

Chapter 1

Carter sprinted as fast as her legs would allow, which was surprisingly fast. Technically, she could match the speed of the fastest Olympic sprinter if she wished or even faster, but at the moment in time she had to be wary of falling to her demise while running along the rooftops of London. Yes, you heard correctly: rooftops. It was quite possibly the easiest way to lose them. They had experience, yes, but they didn't have half the skill Carter had. Luck was against them if they wanted to catch her. All those chemicals they pumped into her blood stream made sure of that. They had failed to keep her contained in that jail for the specimens, and she was never going to see the inside of that place ever again. She made a promise to herself and she was not about to break it.

Before she escaped, she was careful with what clothes she wore. It was a simple, dark grey hoodie, loose fitting denim jeans and a pair of black Nike trainers. She had to hide her face, from all authorities; even the police, so she wore a dark red scarf over her lower face. Still, it was obvious she would attract attention by running along people's houses, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. If they knew exactly who she was, they would be scared. Very scared. And rightly so; she was dangerous. Radioactive and hostile. That's what they told the British Government. Told them that if not contained and restrained, she would cause devastating collateral damage. Lies. All of it. It was merely a mask to cover up what they were truly doing.

Carter leapt over a gap. No human could have made that. She wasn't exactly what you could call human. She used to be, but not anymore. Obviously. However, some things are very much impossible, even for her. For instance, when one rooftop is particularly far away from the one she was currently running along, any rational person would stop and find another way across. Not Carter. She just jumped. Without hesitation or fear. It was just about the most stupid thing she had done in her entire life. She might have made it, if not for her exhaustion and malnutrition, but even then it must have been a big risk to take. Not that she was bothered.

Her hands grabbed fruitlessly at the roof tiles as her legs tried to push herself up onto safe ground. The tiles suddenly slipped from the roof and she let out a sharp cry of panic as she fell backwards. After a moment of a strange weightlessness, her back hit something with a sharp jolt and she lost her breath in the hot pain. She continued to fall though, and her body twisted uncontrollably in mid-air. With a sickening and severely painful crunch, her torso hit the ground, then her legs. She laid motionless for a few seconds, the shock causing her body to go rigid. She was still oblivious to a pair of onlookers. They never expected to see a 19 year old girl fall from the sky. It was highly illogical.

"Did you see that?" One man mumbled.

"Of course Watson. However illogical it was, I did just see someone fall from the rooftops." The other said, his voice deep and smooth.

Carter was snapped back into reality at the sound of their footsteps becoming closer to where she lay and instantly pushed herself up. They stopped moving towards her and watched her cautiously as she got into a defensive stance. The person was tall and well built, but his figure was slender. Sherlock deduced that this person was female, not male, due to her hands and how her chest jutted out more than any mans would. He could only just see her stormy grey eyes under her hood. She was scared.

"Calm down, miss." He said, not sounding as comforting as he would have liked.

John took a step closer, as all her attention was on his companion. She didn't feel any resentment or fear towards this man. She looked him over, hoping for something to explain why. He wore a dark grey trench coat and denim jeans, as well as a warm looking scarf around his neck. Out of everything, it was his eyes that calmed her down. They were icy blue and perceptive. She couldn't find any emotion in his eyes other than curiosity. She heard a small scuffling sound come from his companion, the older one. He was much closer than the last time she looked. Acting on her inhuman instinct, she hissed and pulled out a knife from her pocket. The older man backed away, hands raised in surrender.

"Now, now, no need for any violence." He said, eyes flitting from the knife to her face.

"Stay away from me!" She exclaimed, her strong British accent coming through.

The taller man with dark brown hair made the move to grab the knife and she dodged him skilfully. She hissed at him and ran at the wall. She pushed herself up and grabbed onto windowsills, fire escapes, anything that could help her back onto the rooftops as they watched down below. Obviously, they followed her. A girl, running along the rooftops with a knife in her possession is certainly a thrilling experience. So, they ran up the fire escape that led to the top floor and clambered up onto the roof. They managed to get up quickly enough to see her receding back.

"Hurry up Watson, we're losing her!" The tall man shouted as be ran after her. The so called 'Watson' rolled his eyes and followed.

Carter felt unwanted fear pumped in her heart and it was banging in her ears like drums. They wouldn't catch her. They couldn't. They weren't like her; no matter who they were. What she didn't expect was to meet a dead end. She stared down at the ground with disbelieving eyes. She didn't like this situation. Why did she have to be so stupid? Was it that difficult to think before she acted?

"Nowhere to go now, dead end." She turned slowly to face the taller, younger man. He was breathing quite heavily, whereas she had barely broken a sweat. He noticed this and raised an eyebrow. She certainly was an interesting character, and he certainly didn't think that of many people. Most were boring and dull. She watched him, not uttering a single word. It felt like some form of stand-off and she was on the losing side.

"Just come with us, you will be safe." He tried to reason with her, but she saw right through the cover. He was going to send her straight to the police station. Not this time. His older companion ran up from behind him and stood by his side, sweating and exhausted.

"We won't hurt you!" Watson exclaimed, exasperated.

"You're just going to hand me over!" The men guessed she thought they were going to give her to the police.

"No, we won't." Watson tried to reassure her.

"You're lying!" She shouted, an edge to her voice, "What if I just jumped?"

"No! You have to trust us, we won't do anything to hurt you." The younger man stayed silent, watching her with calculating eyes.

"I won't let you take me back to that place!" She shrieked, startling them both.

"What place? Where do you come from?" The younger man asked. Watson interrupted him, not wanting his companions to cause her to panic any more than she already was.

"We promise we won't take you anywhere, or hand you over to anyone. We just want to help you." Watson said. She was scared and in need of the help he had just offered. She still looked reluctant. In fact, she took a step back and closer to the edge.

"No one can help me." She said calmly and put away her weapon. Her back straightened and she put her arms out like wings. The younger man's eyes widened in realisation and he reached out to her, quickly lunging out in an attempt to grab hold of her.

"No!" He yelled, but it was too late. She let gravity win and her body fell backwards off the edge; falling four stories before slamming into the hard ground. Sherlock saw a pool of blood expanding from under her body as chaos ensued from bystanders. He gulped. She had just committed suicide. He was kneeling down at the edge of the roof, his elbow resting on his knee while he looked down at her body. Her limbs were sprawled across the tarmac, hair spread out like fire, but matted with blood. Her hood had been removed in the fall. Her face was so serene in death, so calm. Her stormy grey eyes were wide open, portraying every emotion she has ever felt pouring out with her blood.

His thoughtful reverie was broken by Watsons hand on his shoulder and the blaring sirens from both police cars and the ambulance. Something wasn't right here. This girl new something and he, Sherlock Holmes, was going to figure out what it was.

~~~~~A/N~~~~~

Okay, very short first chapter but don't worry, it isn't going to be a short story and Carter isn't gone for good. Please review, or whatever you you prefer to do, but all flames will be reported. Have a nice day!