A/N: This will be my second ever BBC Sherlock fic and it is for the letswritesherlock Challenge 6. The theme is horror. So I'm gonna give this a shot. This is following the traditional ACD style, from John's perspective, and occasionally, third person, because i know there has been at least one chapter like that. It was part of the Study in Scarlet case. Here goes nothing!

PS: This is not going to be a oneshot, so I might just only be able to submit the first two chapters or so once the challenge is due. I'll also be creating an Ao3 account since a lot of the Sherlock fanfics are up there and stuff. But I'll still be posting here as well. So yeah ^^

PPS: I'll add a cover photo laterlong since I'm not home and have limited time to upload this.

Lets Write Sherlock! Challenge 06: Horror

You look like you've seen a ghost! - Chapter 1

"Lestrade. Evidence. Quickly," Sherlock said in his low dark voice, brushing past the officers and walking right into the middle of the crime scene. I followed after him and Lestrade, taking in my surroundings. There wasn't much to the scene, really. It was muddy all over, having just been rained on. Typical English weather. There wasn't even a body. The only thing out of the ordinary was a pink bicycle that had crashed into a tree and was lying on it's side. It didn't look like it had taken much damage and the crash into the tree seemed like it didn't have much impact on the bike. Any other damage on the bicycle was just some paint having been scratched off and mud on it's wheels, which could have happened in any normal situation. It was just off a path which had a few other trees by the side. It was a desolated area which was just leading off from the town and to the countryside. Little people came this way however, so it was perfect for a crime to take place.

"A woman named Helen Smith had gone out to find her daughter after her not returning from school after five hours. None of her friends were with her and her daughter hadn't contacted her. She went out to do a search and was walking along this path. They lived on the countryside and her daughter travelled to and fro school by bike. She took the path her daughter usually took and found her bicycle like this. She reported this to us and we're on the case but there are very little clues around here. The daughter's name is Wendy Smith and she looks like this," Lestrade informed us while he handed me a photograph of the girl as Sherlock bent down to inspect the bicycle. The girl was a pale skinned dark haired girl with chestnut brown eyes. She looked like her mother who was standing around nearby, just 'hovering' as the officers did their work.

Sherlock stood up from the bike, brushing himself off, turning to face Lestrade and I, whilst taking a quick look at the photograph before turning to walk towards the mother, Helen. She was currently rubbing her hands together nervously. Probably to warm herself up and also just to keep her nerves in check at the same time. Skipping formalities, Sherlock immediately jumped to the point.

"What's your daughter like, has she been known to hang out with the wrong people or caused a crime?" He asked quickly, yet still with his usual calmness. The woman looked shocked and flabbergasted that he would suggest such things about her daughter. "No, she would never!" She replied, aghast. Then she continued on more uncertainly, "At least... I've never noticed, but," She continued on more firmly this time, "She wouldn't!"

Sherlock sighed and just turned around, leaving the lady staring at him with a look of surprise on her face. She turned to me, "Who does he think he is?" She asked, anger tinting her voice. I apologise on behalf of my partner, "Sorry, he's usually like that. Gets the job done," I say, a little fluster despite the fact that he's like this all the time.

The minute I turn around from the woman who Barely had time to acknowledge my apology, I see Sherlock already walking off to who-knows-where so I jog up to him.

"What the heck was that for? you could've been a bit more polite," I tell him with annoyance.

"There's no time to be polite in a situation like this. No need to beat around the bush, we need facts, fast, and if over-protective parents get in the way, we'll get no where," Sherlock said, still briskly walking along the path. He was partially true and this was Sherlock we were talking about, so you really can't complain much.

It seemed like Sherlock had gathered all he could from the scene and was heading off. Well, there wasn't much to see here anyway. From the pace he had set for himself, I could tell he was eager to get home and do some research. We walked past Lestrade, who said to him, "Great, not over ten minutes."

"Must you still limit my time?" Sherlock asked with a sigh.

"You aren't an official detective here," Lestrade replied back.

"I don't need more than ten minutes anyway," Sherlock called over his shoulder, having walked a bit further away now. I could hear Lestrade mutter, "I'll limit you to five minutes next time, Mister-Know-It-All."

We jumped into a cab and were on our way back to Baker Street within minutes. I didn't dare ask him any questions because I knew that look on his face. It was one of those times where he was thinking and the slightest sound would put him on the edge. I was burning to ask him countless questions, but having been with him for so long, I knew when I should just leave it. So the cab ride home was just silence, with Sherlock in his signature thinking pose with his two hands together beneath his chin as his eyes looked into space, off in his mind palace.

For me, on the other hand, as hard as I racked my brains to think of anything of the scene and the little evidence we had, too many options were left open. The girl could have been kidnapped, she could have run away, or she could have been attacked. What's worse, she could have been-

"John," Sherlock said, suddenly interrupting my thoughts. "I've said before, you shouldn'ttheorise before you get enough evidence. You might then try to bend the facts to fit your theories, rather than bend your theoriestot fit the facts," He continued. I sighed, he'd told me that before, and I knew he was right. "I know what you are thinking. I'll explain more later," He finished. All I could do was nod. From then on, he returned to his silent thinking posture and I tried to clear my mind.

A/N: Alright guys, this is the first chapter, I hope that was okay! Alright this case and everything is all purely thought out from my own mind so if I get any facts wrong in my future chapters, please do alert me? I'm not Arthur Conan Doyle, nor am I Sherlock, or a detective, or a science genius. I'm just a fangirl with a passion for writing, so please do bear with me.

~Shahdar out! Allonsy~!