Sherlock/Doctor Who crossover. Have fun :)
Moonlight shone brightly on the small village of Shambrook. The wind grew stronger, sending waves through the long grass that covered the field. In a nearby wood, a young man tried hard to stop his breathing from being so loud rather unsuccessfully to his demise. He saw a flash of dark red hair in front of him so he turned and ran, his attacker moving all too gracefully behind him. He ran into the open fields, running for his life. He ran for what seemed like miles until he saw the corn-field in front of him. He ran to the middle until the sound of a gunshot ran through the otherwise still night. The attacker started to chuckle to themselves, the sound growing louder echoing through the small, restless town.
Slept on fist.
Slept three.. no four hours.
Got up for tea around midnight.
Forgot about shirt.
Went to the gym 3 times this week.
Tense.
Stop, not now.
Sherlock deducted John as he came into the room, taking in every detail. Technically he'd been taking in the details from when he first heard John wake, not just when he entered the room but he got conformation with his eyes, they gave the most information. He'd obviously had a rough night. He saw John's eyes flick towards the kettle.
Getting tea.
"Two sugars"
"I know, keep your shirt on"
"That's a bit hypocritical"
John looked confused for a second before realising, rolling his eyes and heading upstairs to get a shirt. Sherlock smiled and walked towards the couch to go and read the paper.
Missing for three days! Murdered, beach front.
Nichols down with flu, unable to kick? Drug overdose.
PM Cameron seen with opposition leader. Photoshopped.
Just boring trivia, nothing interesting. Sherlock went into the kitchen getting something ready until John came back into the room, his phone to his ear and his coat on. He motioned to Sherlock to put his coat on and Sherlock obliged.
"Yeah okay we'll be there soon. Just, don't move anything till we get there. See you there." John said rather worriedly before hanging up.
"Where are we going?"
"Shambrook"
"Small.."
"Yeah, c'mon"
They went outside and Sherlock hailed a cab with that magical ability of his to always have a free cab pass whenever he wanted it too. They clambered in and John gave the address to the cabbie. He then proceeded to look out the window, tapping his fingers on the arm rest. He was annoyed he hadn't gotten any tea. Sherlock noticed this and smirked, John turning around ready to give some sort of huffy remark when Sherlock reached inside of his coat and brought out a thermos.
"Tea with milk and one sugar" He said matter-of-factly.
John smiled and took it clapping Sherlock on the shoulder and they started chuckling together about the absurdity of Sherlock bringing tea for someone out of kindness. Neither of them mentioned the topic but they both knew what was funny. That was the thing about their relationship, no words were needed. After that they chatted amicably until they reached the crime scene at which they exchanged a look and dropped their smiles.
Lestrade came jogging up to the car, John thought he looked terrible. Sherlock however looked deeper...
Been awake since 2 am.
Confused and annoyed.
Wants to kill Anderson for something or other..
Six coffee's since he got here.
Lestrade sighed, "Thanks for coming guys, I really need the help. This one's weird, even for us".
"I'm sure we can handle it" Sherlock remarked snarkily.
Lestrade just rolled his eyes and led the way through the corn field, giving them the details about the case even though he knew Sherlock wouldn't need them. He would have already seen or observed as he put it.
"Young man aged 19 we think. They haven't identified him yet because the DNA sample was contaminated" he flashed a glare towards Anderson who just shrugged. "Anyway, a farmer found him here this morning. He's been hanging there for about eight hours so we think that he's been there since midnight. Gunshot wound in chest, no bullet and... well we're almost there, you should see for yourself"
When they turned the corner, John's mouth opened a little out of shock. They were in a small clearing, what looked to be a pretty good circle. He didn't know why the police would cut the grass in a circle so he decided that it was probably something the killer did. He then turned his attention to the young man. He was tied to a cross in the middle of the circle, scarecrow style. His appearance was quite frightening, his skin was a blueish purplish colour and ice was made to look as if it was dripping from his eyes and mouth. As well as this there were some strange looking symbols carved into the man's forehead. The marks, from what John could see, were strangely well cut. Almost...elegant...eulgh.
As they turned into the small clearing, Sherlock noticed thousands of things all of them fighting for attention in his brain. He forced himself to focus by staring at John. John always calmed his brain down for some reason, whenever he looked at him he just took over. After that he could look at individual bits of information before putting everything together. This time John caught his look and shrugged. He didn't like what he saw which, by comparison, was very different to what Sherlock saw.
Okay, Sherlock, focus.
Clearing not made by police officers but by killer, perfect circle.
Grass cut with blade. Not machete, not knife, not scissors. What other blades are there?
Cross put in the middle of circle exactly.
Cross made out of wood, oak.
Tied up with nylon rope.
Man was dead for half an hour precisely before being tied to the frame and another half hour before being lifted into position.
Man's name written inside jacket, Harrison.
College student.
Ice around eyes was formed after death when killer put water in man's eyes. Same with the mouth.
Blue colour of skin from extreme cold just after death.
Small bruises on arms from where the killer handled the body after death.
Eyes dry from staying open all night.
Blood frozen making body stiff before rigor mortis.
Symbols.
Circular.
Some patterns repeated.
Lines within circles.
It's a language.
"Sherlock? You mind walking us through what you've got?" John asked calmly.
"Sure, I'll start with the grass. I'm sure you've realised by now that the clearing was not cut by the police and that it was cut by the killer. What's curious is that it's cut n a perfect circle. Judging by the angle of the cut on the grass and the feel of it, it was cut by a blade. Some patches are longer than others so it can't have been a lawnmower or any other kind of automatic, regulating device. I thought it was a machete but as the grass is cut in a perfect circle it seems unlikely that it was done by hand, or at least by a hand held blade. As well as the you can see the very tips of the grass have been burnt so I'm still working on what they used to cut the grass. The cross that the man is tied to is in the middle of the circle exactly so the killer has to be some sort of mathematician. The cross in question is made out of oak and no, it's obviously not a religious thing because the hands and feet are not nailed to the cross. Now about the man. He's a prissy student named Harrison living in dorm 91, Cambridge College"
"How do you know that?" interrupted Lestrade curiously.
"It's obvious isn't it? His jacket, just behind his name he's got his name written in permanent marker. The handwriting isn't joined so we know he wrote it. We know he's in college because no one in high school writes their name in their clothes because they go home after school. The jacket's too big for him to have bought it before then so he must be in college, in a dorm. Dorm 91? Yes, obviously. When staying in dorms it is customary to write the name and number of the dorm on the lanyard incase the ID card is taken. We know Harrison here is prissy because he went one step further and has sewn his details in. We even have his mobile number."
"Why didn't we see that?"
"Because you're too dumb to know what your looking for"
"But we checked the lanyard. There was nothing on it."
"You didn't check it, you skimmed it. You saw there was no ID and walked away. The sewing is in black so it would have stood out against the red lanyard if you had actually looked." Sherlock stated matter-of-factly. But then he added grudgingly "As well as that it was behind his neck."
Lestrade rolled his eyes and sighed motioning for him to go on.
"Moving on to injuries. The colour of his skin has come from being in extreme cold and before you ask, no that's not how he died, the freezing happened after death. About 20 minutes after. This freezing process has also explained how this man has entered rigor mortis before the regular time. The extreme cold has froze, from what I can see, every cell in his body. The ice coming from the eyes and mouth were also frozen, the killer put water in both orifices before freezing the body."
"So this freezing event...liquid nitrogen?"
"No, the body is stiff and strong. Liquid nitrogen would make the body stiff but it would be brittle and fragile. You would be able to break it easily, but we can't. That is what makes this freezing process curious as I do not know how else they could get the body to such low temperatures."
"Okay anything else?"
"A little, you see the markings on the head? It's a message. In another language. As far as I can tell it's can't be directly translated into english but I can tell you how it works. Each circle is a sentence and the circular patterns inside it are words. Different symbols are different types of letters with lines and dots distinguishing them. Other lines and dots create punctuation. To read it you go anti clockwise, as far as I can tell."
Lestrade's jaw dropped and even John looked a little shocked, Sherlock had just dissected a foreign language with a single look.
Sherlock sighed in frustration and put his hands in front of his face, resting them in a comfortable prayer position just below his chin. Then he continued, "The weirdest part about it is that the language isn't one we know on earth. I can tell it isn't code because it doesn't follow any kind or recognisable word/sentence pattern. I honestly don't know where it's come from."
John raised his eyebrows and Lestrade just frowned.
"So we don't have any leads on the symbols?" He asked.
"We know it's a message. I just have to figure out what the message is."