Something Noisy Comes This Way
Genre: Horror, Mystery
Rating: T for violence and some disturbing material
Part One
Molly was sitting in the lab of St. Bartholomew's, examining some cell cultures under the microscope. Sherlock was sitting nearby running some chalk analysis for a recent case, his eyes darting back and forth between the scope and the computer. John however, wasn't as busy. The former army doctor had a late night and retired in a sitting position, casting a few snores in the otherwise quiet lab.
Molly sighed, scribbling down notes in her report and then got up to put away her culture. Sherlock gave her a quick glance and then settled to throw a rubber ball he had kept at John. The ball hit him in the head, waking him in a startle.
"Ahsf-what!" John blinked rapidly and glared at Sherlock, picking up the rubber ball and squeezing it in his hand. "I'm not doing anything. You could let me get a wink in, you know?"
"I'm almost done," Sherlock replied.
John yawned. "Found it, then?"
"Yes."
John nodded and then looked to Molly. "When are you off, Molly?"
She gave a grin. "I'm already off."
He arched a brow. "Then…why are you still here?"
"I have a few reports that I need to finish," she answered, tapping a stack of papers on the desk. "It'll take me till midnight to finish them."
John gawked. "Will you be okay?"
She nodded and smiled again. "This isn't the first time, it's not hard. It's just a long process."
"Do you need help?" he asked, already offering his services.
Sherlock snorted, thinking how chivalrous Mr Watson wanted to be when it concerned a woman.
"No, I'm fine. Go home, John – the case has finally come to an end. I'm sure you're tired and need rest."
John nodded, getting up and stretching his arms up. "Call us if you need anything."
Sherlock pulled on his coat and tied his navy scarf around his neck. Just as he went to put on his gloves there was noise – very faint. No one heard it except for Sherlock. "What was that?" he asked.
Both John and Molly looked at him confused. "I'm just saying if she needs help, we'll be happy to offer it," John explained, confused.
"No, not that. That noise, didn't you hear it?" He pointed around the room, trying to pinpoint where it had come from.
"What noise? I didn't hear anything," said John.
Molly frowned. "Is it that rumbling kind of noise that a dishwasher makes?"
Sherlock nodded briefly. "Something of that sort. What is it?"
She chuckled, throwing her hands up. "Oh, I don't know. I've been hearing it for a week now. Sometimes I hear in the morgue, sometimes in the cafeteria. But here in the lab, it's usually fainter. I asked Doctor Philips about it but he said it was just technical work that needed to be done in the vents or something like that."
Sherlock's eyes darted to the ventilation system in the lab. "What possible kind of work needs to be done in a vent that sounds like a dishwasher? Building owners hardly dare to care about the cleanliness of their vents – it's not what you see in films. Vents are dusty, dirty, and dangerous." He smiled. "Should we have a look?"
John groaned. "Come on, it's hardly anything. Can we just go home?"
Sherlock slipped on his black leather gloves, covering his long pale fingers. "It's not a normal noise, John."
"I'm tired."
"Five seconds ago, you were willing to stay another four hours to help Mrs Hooper with her reports and you won't help me examine this…noise?"
Before John could respond, the noise filtered the lab again, this time a bit louder. It was rattling, like a shopping cart rolling over concrete.
"Okay, is that the noise?" John pointed upwards, standing still as a chill ran up his spine. There was something very odd about that noise, indeed, he thought.
Molly swallowed. "Bit louder this time, yeah?" She walked over towards the left wall and lifted her chin, trying to see into the vent. She didn't think anything would be in there but she still wanted to confirm. Sherlock and John soon joined her and the three of them stared into the dark square tunnel that ran through the entire building.
Silence fell upon them, nothing but the sound of their heartbeats was heard. And then, very faintly, like the sound of a clean sheet waving in the wind, laboured breathing joined them through the vents.
Carefully, Molly looked at John, and then at Sherlock. No one believed that the sound was actual breathing, it was impossible.
"Is someone stuck in there?" Molly whispered, breaking the silence.
"For a week?" Sherlock asked dubiously. "I highly doubt it's a person. It must be something else."
"But it's breathing," John whispered, casting Sherlock a look from the corner of his eyes. "Animal?"
"In a hospital? In a vent?" Sherlock scoffed. "That's more unbelievable than a person."
John looked back into the dark vent, trying to see past the blinds. All of them were conscious of their voices. Afraid of being too loud. All but Sherlock.
"Hello?!" he yelled.
Molly and John went rigid as Sherlock yelled into the vent one more time. Then, they stood quietly waiting for some sort of response. Nothing.
"I think you scared it away," Molly whispered.
"It's not an 'it'," Sherlock said, rolling his eyes. "There is reasonable explanation to this. First, however, we'll have to talk to Doctor Philips; he seems to know what's going on these vents. Most likely he's hiding something."
"B-but what would he be hiding?" Molly asked.
John let out a sigh, rubbing his head. "Does this mean we have a new case? Mystery of the noisy vents?"
"Dull name, John," Sherlock muttered. " He could hide anything, Molly. Matainence for the vents? A horribly dull lie and you know it." He turned around and reached for his cell. "Call doc-"
Before Sherlock had the chance to get out his words, a roar penetrated the silence – rattling loud, the sound almost guttural like a beast.
Molly stood still, just as John. Both of them tense, scared, and frightened at the sound they just heard. Questioning its origin – its humanity.
"Ooooh," Sherlock sang after the noise faded away into stillness, his eyes wide and filled with carnal curiosity – all sleeping thoughts vanishing from the corners of his mind. He was alert, ready.
"Yes, I believe we have a case, John." Sherlock turned to him. "Whatever can it be?"
"It's not a beast," Molly whispered, trying to stay calm by rubbing her arm vigorously. "It can't be. This is a hospital."
"Exactly, so what is it?" Sherlock asked, lifting his eyebrows ever so slightly. "Another case of hallucinatory gas? This time, messing with our sense of hearing?" He pointed to his ears. Sherlock began to think, pacing slowly.
"I really-"
Another ratting, deep, roar sounded in the lab, this time coming from the opposite side.
The sound had moved.