A/N: This one is for Ennui Enigma. We had a conversation a few weeks back. I had reviewed her story Cooking Conundrums she wrote for AlessNox's 221B cooking challenge. We were talking about frozen guinea pigs and the sentient leftovers in my fridge. You really must read that one and her newly published short Microwave Experiments.
Dear AlessNox, I really hope this doesn't qualify for your cooking challenge (grin).
John had been acutely sick all week. High fever, chills, extreme fatigue and achy. He had not been terribly hungry, but Mrs. Hudson had made some chicken soup and he wanted to finish the leftovers.
He padded his way in the dark to the fridge and opened the door.
What met his eyes were not leftovers.
Feet, hands, organs, all neatly placed in plastic bags, all neatly labeled in Sherlock's printing. Stacked on the shelves. One bag started quivering and then another. They seemed to be joining forces and combining, fusing together.
All were beginning to move slowly toward each other and toward him.
The head on the top shelf opened its mouth with a wet creeeaakk.
"Jawwwnnnn!" it slurped.
John tried to back up slowly, but couldn't. The chills he had been fighting all week reinvaded his body. He stood there shivering in fear, denial and fever.
"No! Please! Sherlock, help!" he screamed. He stood frozen in the light of the fridge.
"Jawwwnnnn!" moaned the head, reanimated body parts moved slowly, carefully, slushily toward him.
"Noooo!"
"John, stop. Wake up. Stop thrashing about. I'm trying to untangle you."
John sat up violently in bed; sweat breaking on his forehead as the fever finally left.
He gasped harshly, eventually aware of his surroundings. Sherlock stood over him, concerned.
"John, just breathe."