Chapter One:
Isidora could practically hear her father's voice screaming in her head as she struggled to get the grape off the stubborn vine. "You're wasting too much time!" He would say, "You don't need it."
"Give me a break, Papa," she mumbled to herself, finally getting the grape off. Grinning to herself, she shoved it into her saddlebag and began to hurry off. That was the last thing on her list of things she would need to borrow. She went back to her fishing line, which had been hanging patiently off the edge of the counter. Wrapping a hand around the wire, she hurried down the line.
Landing on the floor with ease, Isidora flicked her wrist, easily making the line flick off the edge and come down after her. Isidora caught the fishing hook before it hit the ground, and smirked to herself.
On a usual borrowing night, she would be in more of a hurry to get out of sight, but tonight, the beans who lived there were out, and she was free to roam the house as she pleased. After securing her fishing line in her bag, she began to walk around, thinking off other things to do to pass the time. She could... Read what the newspaper that Gregory Tucker, the male bean, had usually left on his desk. Or, she could go through Vanessa's vanity again. She like doing that, it made her feel regal and powerful. She love to pretend to do that.
Isidora grinned, deciding to do the latter, already making imagining plans in her mind. Tonight, she would be a powerful empress, taking the throne after her late, tyrannical husband passed. She would love the people, as they did her, and improve her kingdom, which her husband didn't care to do.
Finally, she made it to the end of the kitchen, and turned the corner, but came face to face with wide beady eyes, a wrinkly face, and a drooling mouth. Isidora gasped in surprise, "Prince! You scared me!" The dog, instead of looking guilt, ran his long, rough tongue over her small two-and-a-half inch body. Isidora cringed, backing away, "Ugh, really, Prince!?" Now, he looked guilty, whining and looking down. "You better be guilty," she muttered, rubbing a hand on his wet nose.
Prince perked up from the affection, dipping his head as she rubbed the bridge between his eyes, "Wanna give me a ride to Vanessa's room?" The dog gave a small bark, which Isidora took as a yes.
She grinned, climbing unto the bulldog's back, holding unto his collar. "Okay, go!" Isidora laughed at dog easily bounded down the long hall, and then up the stairs — she held on a bit tighter for that part, not wanting to accidentally fall... Again — and soon, made to the beans' shared room.
The door had been barely open, but Prince fixed that easily, shoving his face into the crack, an allowing it to creak open. Isidora grinned, slipping off his back, and heading to the large vanity. The vanity was a pearly white, which always somehow blinded Isidora every time she had seen it. The top was never neat. Jewelry was always scattered everywhere, sometimes on the ground as well, which made it all the more fun for Isidora to sift through. The assorted jewelry never stayed in the same spot, sometimes, she might see purple earrings near the edge, and other times, on the their side of the vanity. To most borrowers, this would signal that this area was used often, but to Isidora, this meant there was always something new to find due to its frequent shuffling.
She flung her fishing pole up at the table, easily landing it, but yanked it hard first. Sometimes, she'd accidentally get it in between a chain, so when she'd climb up, the jewelry would fall down. This time, however, nothing was 'accidentally' stuck, so she was able to shimmy up the line easily.
Just as she though, the jewelry had been rummage through again, she even spotted a few new jewels. Excitement filled her small body as she began go through the shiny jewels.
"How do you like this, Prince?" Isidora asked the dog, who had been chewing on a discarded shoe. At the sound of his name, Prince looked up. Isidora wore a gold ring and held a silver one, as if it were a handbag. "I'm thinking... A bean model! Or an actress! I haven't done that one in a while, haven't I?" The dog yawned sleepily, so she continued to go through the jewelry.
She heard a car riding near the house and she froze, they were back! Prince looked up, hearing their arrival as well. Stripping the oversized jewelry off her being, Isidora slipped down the line, and yanked it down. As she ran to one of her nearby tunnels — behind the vanity there was a small trapdoor she cut into the floor that she used frequently — and she heard the door open.
Prince began to growl, dangerously, which made her stop in her tracks, turning around. Prince was a lazy, yet friendly dog, and didn't seem to be distressed by a lot of things, but him growling at the beans? That was uncharacteristic of him.
Isidora cut her thought off short when she heard footsteps coming up the steps, "Quiet down!" She hissed, but the hairs on the back of his scruffy neck bristled, as the door opened. She went underground, standing on a worn, thick screw she used as a step-stool, and watched.
The bean was male, but didn't look at all like Gregory. He was slim — Gregory was very thick — and wore black slacks, from what she could see, and shiny shoes. She clamped a hand on her mouth in order to silence herself — not that it mattered, he wouldn't be able to hear someone as small as he was anyway.
Prince growled at the male, baring his sharp canines. He took a step back as the man stepped forward and Isidora heard a strange click. She wondered what this was until suddenly she heard a loud pop.
She screamed, stumbling back, off the screw. She hit her head on the floor, making pain spark across her vision. Her ears rang sharply; whatever that sound was popped her ear drums. After a few seconds, she stood up, climbing back unto the screw to see what happened.
Slowly she lifted the trap door, her arms shaking. She wanted to think she would find Prince standing there, his large pink tongue lolled out of his mouth and drool dripping down his wrinkled, mushed-up face.
Instead, she saw a bean's face staring right at her. His face was masked, but she saw two of the darkest green eyes she had seen in her life, one was squinting a bit harder than the other, as if it were injured, but both of them were staring directly at her.
Isidora ducked back underground, her chest racing, she had been seen! Spending no time to waste, she ran down the tunnel and back to her home. She was halfway across the end of the first tunnel when she felt something drip unto her. At first, dismissed it. Because of the piping, water dripped into the tunnels all the time, and sometimes if the beans would spill a liquid so it would leak down here. But this time, she froze. The liquid was... Red.
Isidora's breath hitched in bed throat, blood. It was blood. Suddenly, she felt faint, the tunnels were spinning round and round and round and round. Blood was everywhere, in her clothes, her hair, on the wall. Blood, blood, blood. It was filling past her knees, she was drowning in it!
"No!" Isidora gasped, trying to move, this couldn't happen, not now! Gritting her teeth, she forced her body to move, but the blood had made her feet stick to the ground, keeping her in place. "No! No! No!!" She pulled her leg, "Move!" She didn't move.
Isidora heard footsteps directly above her and she gasped, beginning to shake in fear. This couldn't be happening! She needed to stop hallucinating! There isn't this much blood, she was fine! She was fine!
Squeezing her eyes shut, Isidora took a deep breath. In, out. In, out, she chided herself. You can do this. After a few seconds, she slowly opened her eyes again, and the excessive blood had disappeared, but there was still some leaking from the floorboards.
Isidora took off running again, and this time, she didn't stop.
Prince was dead, and so was Vanessa and Gregory. Whoever that man was last night killed them all. When the couple got back home, he slit the male bean's throat, stabbed the female one, and left.
Isidora stared at the rotting bodies; nobody had noticed yet, but she assumed that someone would find them. Maybe the cleaning lady? She was scheduled to come in a few hours, actually. Isidora was the last one left, and she knew she had to leave.
Isidora clenched her fists, she wouldn't leave without giving them a hint to the murderer. His haunting dark green eyes had been in her dreams for the past several days, leaving her with restless nights. She pulled her glass shard of a knife out of her sheath and bent down. The only place next to them that wasn't covered in blood was beside Gregory's left hand. Unfortunately, she had accidentally stepped in some while trying to look around, and she left tiny little footprints on the ground. Finally, she began to scratch writings into the ground. It was a fetal effort, but she hoped that the beans would see it.
After she finished, she wished the beans one last goodbye. She didn't know why, they hadn't known she was in their home, but... She couldn't help but feel like she owed them. Especially for Prince. She should've done something! She shouldn't have left him!!
She ran a hand down her face, shaking the self-loathing thoughts from her mind. After one last thank you, Isidora left the room.
"Come along, Watson, we haven't got all day!" Sherlock called behind him, ignoring the disgusted look Donovan always gave him when he passed.
"Freak's here," she called to the others. She said it everything time he entered the room, and frankly, it was getting annoying and old.
John Waston quickly followed behind his partner, "I had the pay the cabbie," he explained, but Sherlock was already striding inside.
The doors to the home was already opened, and Lestrade was standing near the side, away from the body. He turned his head up when Sherlock arrived, but Sherlock's gaze was locked on the bodies. Deductions swarmed around it, as he looked at the corpses.
"The housemaid found them not too long ago," Lestrade said. "They were—"
"Murdered, obviously," Sherlock cut him off. "Where's the dog?"
"Pardon?" Lestrade's face was covered in confusion. Sherlock slipped a pair of blue plastic, doctor's gloves on and bent down, beside the female corpse. He plucked a dog's hair off her blood soaked shirt.
"Dog's hair. Rather old; she recently lint-rolled her shirt but she hadn't gotten everything. I'd say a small dog; gray, probably a bulldog."
Lestrade waved a hand to one of the officers near the side, "Go check the house." The man nodded and walked around the bottom level.
Sherlock spotted another thing, turning the man over. He was lying on his keys; he probably fell when the killer slit his throat. Then, the wife screamed, tried to run, but the killer grabbed her arm and stabbed her. But why kill them? Obviously rich. Husband was a businessman, finance. Wife was a model, but both of them lived hushed lives. Nothing that was worthy of murder.
Then it clicked, he was taking money. Cheating people out of their expenses. That would explain the expensive house, and make him a big enough target for murder.
But who did it? He's had several hundred clients. Sherlock's eyes darted back to the stab wound of the wife. Judging by the wound, the knife was plunged down into her heart, not up. So the killer was tall.
"Sherlock, look at this," John said, pointing near the man's head. Beside the dried pool of blood, there were... Footprints. Small, footprints, he hadn't caught. "What makes prints this small? A mouse?"
"No," Sherlock said. "Mice don't leave prints like that." He pulled out his cellphone and snapped a picture of the queer footprints. Then, his eyes moved to the rest of the bodies, looking for more prints, but instead, found something even better.
He whipped his magnifying glass out of his pocket and looked down at the scrawly writing etched into the wooden floor.
'man tall dark green eyes killed prince scarred in his left eye.'
Sherlock stared down at the writing. "What is it?" John asked, and Sherlock passed him the magnifying glass.
"Who would write that small and tell us about the killer?" Sherlock wondered aloud.
"Maybe it's a trick?" John suggested. "Giving you a false appearance to throw you off," Sherlock shook his head.
"Why waste time on writing that, if they knew we weren't going to find him?" John was at a loss for words, and then one of the officers tramped down the steps.
"There's a dead bulldog upstairs, shot and killed," he reported.
"Prince," Sherlock said, making heads turn his way. "That's the dogs name. Whoever wrote the note was attached to the dog, and was giving us hints." But that still didn't explain the abnormally small handwriting. Maybe so that it would be harder to track? Makes sense, a person who would want to help but didn't want to get involved or mistaken to be the murderer.
Sherlock gave a small sigh, this wasn't a unusual murder, and he was hoping for a serial killer, but this would do have to do, he supposed. As long as it kept him distracted, but of course, it wouldn't last long. "Lestrade, get me every financial case that he has worked in the past twelve months, but only the males." Lestrade nodded, relaying the order to a officer under him as Sherlock strode to the door. His long, black tailcoat billowing after him with the movement as he and his partner left.
Isidora was lucky to catch a ride on one of the retreating cars as the beans left, and was even more enthusiastic to find that one of the beans had found her message.
She stayed in the air-vents and watched as he inspected the corpses. He was tall — taller than a usual bean — and had mousy curly black hair. His eyes were a pale blue, almost giving it a grayish tone. Although he hadn't directly looked at her, she could see the gleam of excitement in them. Beside him was a slightly shorter man, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was listening as the first man talked to himself, then ordered a few things, which began to bore Isidora.
A few hours later, they began to leave and all the bodies had been moved elsewhere. Isidora supposed they were going to the city, so she hitched a ride on one of the cars, easily hiding underneath the leather seats. She found herself among dust bunnies and other assorted thing, which made her grin, perfect for borrowing.
It had taken them about a hour's or so drive, which hadn't been too bad. She found a ripped part of a magazine underneath the seats, which she spent some of her time reading it. It wasn't anything important, but she loved reading anything, so a short cut-off article on finances was the best thing to read, and help pass the time.
Isidora finished the article in a few minutes, however, and decided to go through her stuff instead. She packed everything she would need before she left. Her knife, her borrowing gear, and outfit which she wore. She decided to leave any extra food there, but ate as much a she could stomach the night before. Isidora didn't know where the car would take her, but she assume it was the city.
Isidora had once lived in the city for a while, living from sewer to sewer before she hitched a ride on a taxi going out of the city and with Tucker's. She wondered if anyone she knew was still there. Probably not, they most likely moved away by now. Besides, it had been a few years, and they moved frequently.
Soon, the car had came to a stop, and the doors opened. Isidora easily slipped out of the car before it could close again. She found herself on concrete ground. Isidora ran to a nearby pillar before she could be seen, but the two beans didn't pay her any mind, and walked away, talking to each other about something she hadn't cared to listen to.
After they had left, Isidora looked around. There was a entrance leading out into the city on the other side of the room, where thy had also parked the car. She frowned, upset that she would have to walk that far, until she found a sewer on the side. A grin lit up on her face as she ran over, beginning her adventure in the new city.