A/N: Ok, so I got this idea when I was working in a Haunted House cause it gets really boring just waiting for a new group to come round and watching all the props do their stupid scary stuff (I practically memorized what the stupid skeleton had to say 'I will find you...' I DONT GIVE A DAMN IM RIGHT HERE) so I started thinking about Sherlock. And then I was like, WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF SHERLOCK AND JOHN WENT INTO A HAUNTED HOUSE? So this is what was born. The haunted house is based on the one I was working in but it was kind of lame so I MADE IT AWESOME! Please review!
Disclaimer: I don't own BBC Sherlock. If I did, season 3 would be airing Halloween night, instead of FREAKING JANUARY (I think its January. correct me if I'm wrong)
Chapter 1
John shivered as the cold autum wind blew past him, cutting through his clothes and chilling him to the bone. He zipped his leather jacket up to his chin and stuck his hands in his pockets, trying to keep warm while he impatiently waited for Sherlock.
Where the hell is he? John thought. He said to meet me here... he looked at his watch. Fifteen minutes ago. John took out his phone and went to call Sherlock, the only person he had on speed dial besides Lestrade and Mycroft, but then decided against it and opened a new text message.
Sherlock has always preferred texting to talking. God knows why. John sighed as he quickly typed in the message.
Where r u? Been bloody waitin for 20 min!
John hit send just as a taxi pulled up to curb. Sherlock got out of the cab and turned his coat collar up, showing his high cheekbones. Dear God, what is it this time. John thought. Sherlock turned and crisply thanked the cabbie, then turned and walked up to John, his blue eyes scrutinizing him as always. "Hello." He smiled quickly, then turned and started to walk away.
"God, Sherlock!" John exclaimed, hurrying to catch up with the long legged man. "Where were you? I've been waiting out here in the freezing weather-"
"There was no rush." The consulting detective stated. "Anyways, you could have gone and waited in one of the three cafés on this street and it's really not that cold, it's just that the wind-"
"Alright, Mr. Weatherman. That's quite enough." John couldn't help but laugh. "Where are we going anyway?"
"It's a surprise." Sherlock grinned, watching as the cars and taxis drove down the street, the leaves swirled around on the pavement, and all the ordinary people walked down the street laughing with their 'friends'. It's all so dull. Sherlock thought placidly.
"You know I get really nervous when you say that." John said, looking at all the hustle and bustle, all the people walking by. I wonder if this is what Sherlock sees, or if he just sees facts and who's... Oh, I dunno, if someone's a crack addict or something. John chuckled, and Sherlock cracked a smile.
•••••
They walked down the street, John enjoying the break from the constant cases and Sherlock's constant moaning and groaning. It was the day before Halloween, and all the stores were in full swing with decorations in every window. Then he began to notice all the signs.
Haunted House
256 Garrish St.
October 30 5pm -12 midnight
All are welcome
Plus... free admission!
John noticed that they had been following the directions to to Haunted House, and instantly became suspicious. He looked at his watch. Seven o'five. John furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Sherlock. "We aren't going to that Haunted House, are we?"
Sherlock didn't reply, he merely continued walking.
"Dear, God, we are, aren't we?!" John exclaimed. "Why on earth would you fell the need to go to a haunted house, and in addition drag me along!"
"I never said we were going to the Haunted House." Sherlock replied calmly, still not looking at John. At that moment they turned down Garrish Street and stopped in front of a dark building. It was about five stories high, and all the windows were blacked out. Right above the door there was a banner that read:
Annual Garrish St. Haunted House
October 30 only
John sighed.
"But that doesn't mean we're not." Sherlock said, walking up to the open double doors.
John caught his arm. "No way, Sherlock."
"C'mon, John." Sherlock whined. "You can laugh at how fake everything is."
"No, Sherlock, you don't get it." John said. "That is the famous Garrish St. Haunted House, probably the most famous haunted house in England, and you want to know why it's so famous? Because it's actually terrifying. Like full on, oh my God, I'm going to die scary."
"Are you scared, then?"
John cleared his throat. "No."
"Then you shouldn't have any trouble." Sherlock stated, turning on his heel and striding through the doors again.
John sighed. One day I'm gonna kill him. He thought, then he reluctantly followed Sherlock into the dark building.
When Sherlock and John walked in, there was practically no one around. The room was pretty small, and the walls were covered in black curtains. Old fashioned chandeliers hung from the ceiling, real candles burning in them. There was a small pedestal off to the right with a few small torches on it. Cobwebs were draped everywhere,and to John they looked pretty real. There were three skeletons leaning against the wall in different positions, one leaning on a cane with a top hat on, another leaning against a tombstone, and the last in the classic skeleton position, one hand up and the other on its hip.
John looked closely at them. They looked convincingly real, their bones standing out sharp and white against the black walls and the dim lighting.
Then the skeleton wearing the top hat reached out for John, screaming at the top of its lungs.
John jumped, backing away quickly. His heart started to beat faster and faster.
The skeleton cackled, showing its straight white teeth. Wait... I've heard that laugh before. John thought.
"Lestrade." Sherlock said, sticking his hand out to shake the skeleton's bony white hand.
Lestrade smiled, the paint making his face barely recognizable. "I didn't expect to see you boys here, what's up?"
"Hold on, what?" John exclaimed, totally lost. "That's actually you, Greg?"
"Of course it's me! Did Sherlock not tell you?"
"No, " John said in frustration, looking pointedly at Sherlock, "he didn't."
Lestrade chuckled. "Oh well, it doesn't matter!"
"You seem to be in high spirits."
"I only get to do this once a year, John. It's far too little."
Sherlock cleared his throat, making it clear that he wanted the introductions to be over.
"Alright, alright, don't get your trousers in a knot." Lestrade jabbed. He walked over to the pedestal with torches on it and handed each of them one. He then took one for himself and walked towards a small wooden door that John hadn't noticed before. "C'mon." Lestrade beckoned with his torch for them to follow him.
John looked back at the other two skeletons and saw that Lestrade had already been replaced with a brand new skeleton wearing the same thing Lestrade had been wearing. "How many people work here?" John asked, trying to distract himself from the eeriness of it all.
Lestrade turned the knob on the door and pulled it open. "A little over a hundred."
John whistled. "All the time?" He followed Sherlock through the door, Turing back to look at Lestrade as he pulled the door shut behind them.
"Oh don't be absurd." Lestrade said. "We work in shifts."
John nodded. The room they had entered was pitch black. Sherlock and Lestrade flicked on their torches, and John followed suit. He lifted his torch, gazing around the room. His light fell on a skeleton right next to him, barely ten centimeters from his face. John jumped. "I didn't realize you were that close, Lestrade."
"That's not me." Lestrade grinned wickedly.
John turned back to the other skeleton, who now had an evil smile on its face. "Then who's that..."
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave you boys now." Lestrade smiled. "This is where the formalities end, and the chase begins."
"What?" John asked, not liking how that sounded.
"Run," The other skeleton grinned, stretching out a skinny finger to touch John's face, "my precious."
John turned and looked at Lestrade and Sherlock. "I don't know of the two of you I hate more right now."
Sherlock grinned, and they turned and ran.
The dark room branched off into many different halls, so John just stuck to to Sherlock, not wanting to get lost. Each hall they ran down was almost identical, with the cobwebs and dark curtains. At least there's light. John remarked, grateful for the old chandeliers on the ceiling.
After running down more halls than John could count, making an innumerable amount of turns, Sherlock stopped to let John take a breath.
John bent over, breathing heavily. "What... are we doing... here, Sherlock?" He asked between breaths. He was winded, since he still hadn't adjusted to Sherlock's fast pace.
"The thrill of the chase." Sherlock grinned, obviously enjoying himself so far.
"Yeah, only this time we're the ones who are being chased." John pointed out, looking up to see where they had stopped.
The room was a big square, with the same black curtains and cobwebs, only there was no light. With the small beam of light that the torch provided, John saw three coffins propped against three of the four walls. "What is it this time?" He asked, exhausted.
"Probably vampires." Sherlock said dully.
"I thought you didn't believe in that kind of sci-fi stuff." John commented.
"That doesn't mean i don't know about it." Sherlock retorted.
Just then the coffins broke open, and three vampires emerged from their wooden prisons. Their faces where ghostly white, and their lips as red as blood. They had pointy white teeth that looked incredibly sharp, and they smiled at Sherlock and John. Two more vampires emerged from behind the black curtains, looking slightly different from the other three vampires, but still terrifying.
"Look, Costello." One of the original three said. "Fresh fleshies."
"Oh thank goodness, I haven't drunken in days." The one supposedly named Costello said, sounding extremely fatigued. He moved towards Sherlock. "Wait a minute. Isn't he one of our own?"
John stifled a laugh. Sherlock looked at John, obviously not amused. "Am I really that pale?"
"Yes, Sherlock, you are." John said without a doubt.
"No...he just looks like it. Kill them, Costello." The third of the original vampires said.
Sherlock smiled. "More running. Excellent."
All five vampires ran at them, and Joh and Sherlock ran out the door of the room and into yet another dark hall. This hall forked into two separate halls, one to the left and another to the right.
"Split up." Sherlock said. "I'll go to the right."
John nodded and ran to the left, determined not to be caught by the vampires. He looked behind him and saw one of the original vampires following him along with the two extra ones. John looked ahead, focusing on losing the vamps. He ran for a few minutes, taking turns when it seemed necessary. He turned around to look for the vampires and didn't see them. He stopped and took out his phone, dialing Sherlock. Sherlock answered on the first ring.
"Where are you?" He asked quickly, the sound of his breathing carrying thought the phone.
"I dunno, all the halls look the bloody same!" John exclaimed.
"Try to remember how many turns you made and when." Sherlock said impatiently.
"I only made three, the first to the left then the second and third to the right."
"Alright, stay where you are, I'll find you." Sherlock said and then hung up.
John stuck his phone back in his pocket and blew out a breath.
Suddenly, he felt hands go over his mouth and nose, and other hands grab his arms. He tried to shout or escape from their grasp, but it was no use. No one would be able to hear him.
Then the sickly sweet smell of knock-out gas entered his nose. Oh God, I'm actually being kidnapped. He thought absent-mindedly. His mind began to drift, and nothing seemed to hold in his brain. The world spun out of control, and he sagged in his captors arms, unconscious.
A/N: Hope you all liked it! Please let me know if here any mistakes or contradictions so I can correct them! Please review, and hopefully more to come soon!
P.S. I went through it and fixed a few mistakes, hope everything wasn't to confusing!