"Sherlock!" I called for the fourth time. He's running ahead of me and ignoring me, as usual. The criminal we were chasing had eluded Scotland Yard for two months, but one deduction from Sherlock had set us on the criminal's tail. The criminal must've been a former marathon runner, because he's been forcing us into a full speed sprint for almost three blocks now, and he was still going strong. The criminal and Sherlock turned into a dim alley. I was well behind him because three blocks at full speed can take it out of you. When I got to the alley, neither men were there. I slowed to a walk, trying to find out where the two men had gone.
Have you ever heard someone say, "If you go looking for trouble, chances are good you'll find it"? I didn't find the men. They found me. I was blindsided by the two as they were fighting each other. As they moved past me, I saw that they were wrestling over a knife. It might've been the streetlights, but it seemed to have an odd greenish tint. But I shoved that thought aside and shot over the criminal's head, which allowed Sherlock to knock him out. Once the criminal was secured, I went to Sherlock and asked him, "case closed?" I was a little annoyed, but wasn't surprised when he didn't answer. He had a faraway look that told me he was thinking hard, and he normally doesn't talk while thinking.
"John" Sherlock said suddenly, "What was the report on the first two victims?" I was a little surprised by the question, but said, "Dead by knife wounds, and both had a strange toxin in their blood." I looked at him, and he seemed to get paler by the second. He knelt down by the criminal and picked up the knife. He turned it around in his hand, and held up the edge to the streetlight. He must've found what he was looking for because he went sheet-white and said, "John, call an ambulance." "What?" "Call an ambulance now!" I was surprised by his tone, but did as I was told. As I was waiting for the receiver to pick up, I noticed that Sherlock was now leaning against the alley-wall. He never does that. I also noticed his slightly pinched expression and the way he was clutching his side, like he was in pain and trying to hide it. "Sherlock?" I asked concerned. He made eye contact with me, and I saw that his eyes were unfocused and glassy. Then he collapsed.
"Sherlock!" I yelled as I ran to his side. Just then, I heard in my ear "Emergency, which service do you require?" "We need an ambulance at Butler and Broadway now!" I yell. "An ambulance will be there in 10 minutes." She replied and hung up. I quickly opened Sherlock's jacket, and saw why he'd been holding his side. It wasn't big, just a scratch really, but it had broken the skin and allowed whatever had been on that knife to enter. I picked up the same knife Sherlock had held, and saw that it really was green. Green with poison. I realized this and dropped it immediately.
Sherlock let out a low moan, shifting uncomfortably. "Hold on Sherlock, the ambulance will be here soon. Just hold on."
Hold on…