Hi everyone! It's me! I'm back, with something I've been working on for a long time. If you guys were wondering why I wasn't showing any of my other stories any love, this was the reason. Enjoy!

For the first time in his life, Sherlock Holmes was truly afraid. He was standing there, on the edge of a rooftop, completely surrounded. What was he surrounded by? That was a good question, even it it was a stupidly obvious one. They weren't human… Well, not anymore. They were much worse. The silver circle around their pupils shone in the night.

They were Souls-creatures from another world. They were not like anything Sherlock ever met. They came without warning. They arrived as silent as the Angel of Death. One morning, they weren't there. The next day, began the takeover of humanity. The takeover began quick and easy. They claimed that it was to perfect humanity. Those who still resisted saw it as murder.

Sherlock and a handful of others were of the few that resisted the rule of the Souls. Only those he kept close to them were the ones he thought about at that moment. He was familiar with the drop that faced him. It was St. Bart's hospital after all (part of him wondered whether that was ironic or planned). This time, however, Mycroft would not be there to save him. As a member of the British government, he had been one of the first to be taken. The night that he heard his older brother had been taken by the Souls, he had appeared calm about it. But when he went to his room, he wept at the news and cursed his brother. He just couldn't understand it. Mycroft was almost as smart as he was; how could he have gotten caught. Molly went to him that night, as well as Hamish, and they held onto him as he wept. Sherlock tried to hold himself together, for Hamish's sake, but failed. Sherlock's walls had not just cracked that day; they completely broke down. He remembered Hamish saying, "Daddy, it's okay. We're here." Those were the exact words that Sherlock told Hamish when he cried. The bond the two shared was not by blood, but by bond. Sherlock wondered what Hamish was thinking right now. What was he doing? What were Molly and John thinking?

"Please, come away from there," a voice purred from the shadows, as Sherlock stepped up to the roof's edge.

Sherlock's eyes widened at the sound of the voice. He was dumbstruck when two people, whom he thought he would never see again, strolled out of the shadows.

"Indeed. We wouldn't want you to get hurt," the other said, a smirk apparent on his face.

"... Burn in hell."

And with that, Sherlock leaned back and free fell. The wind that rushed past him carried the sound of John shouting his name. He silently prayed that Molly and Hamish would be alright without him. It was the second time he prayed in the time period that the Souls arrived. He whispered his last words to love to Molly as his body bounced off the flagpole and fell the rest of the way down before colliding with the wet pavement.

"His spine is broken into two pieces; his nose, humerus, left tibia and fibula are broken. His skull, 2 neck vertebrae, and many ribs are fractured. He also has internal bleeding and a ruptured heart and liver," the woman in white stated, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"Healer, why are you crying? That is a human emotion," said a man dressed in a white, fashionable suit. The Soul had followed his human's memories and sense of fashion. Quite frankly, he liked the style, as was just as protective of the suit as the previous owner was.

"Seeker Alpha, the woman I have bonded with had very distinct memories of this man. He is her son. It would break her heart to see him like this."

"Yes, but she's gone now. You are in control of your body. It will do you well to remember that," said the other woman with dark hair and dressed in a revealing white outfit.

Healer hesitated before nodding to confirm that fact. She knew she was in charge, but that didn't erase the memories. She could see and feel the love that this body had for her son. Healer grabbed the medicine, gently opened Sherlock's mouth, and spritzed the inside of it. Instantly, Sherlock's injuries began to heal. The scars on his face disappeared and his bones became whole.

"It's marvelous how he is still alive. Even just faintly," said Seeker Beta.

"It seems like he wants to live. If it is life he wants," Seeker Alpha said, smirking at his counterpart, "then it is life he shall get."

The female returned his smirk and asked Healer, "Is she ready?"

"Gwyneria is indeed ready. Should we insert her how?"

"The sooner she is in, the sooner we can crush the resistance," said the man, with a hungry look in his eyes.

Healer hesitated before nodding and opening the cryogenic container that held the Soul. Instantly, she was amazed at how beautiful she was. She knew that Gwyneria had spent a few of her lives as a snowflake on the planet of Snokap, but she never expected that the snow's beauty would carry over to her appearance. The Soul was a beautiful white and if the Healer looked hard enough, she could see little frost-like designs in her center. Healer turned Sherlock's head and made an incision in the back, where the neck met his head. She gently lifted the Soul out of the container, and as she carried the white being, she whispered, "Gwyneria, for the sake of Wanda Holmes, look after this man."

And with that, the Healer inserted the icy Soul into the mind of Sherlock Holmes. Gwyneria's feelers attached themselves to Sherlock's brain. They instantly gained access to his last memories and watched as the man fell over the edge. When the consulting detective opened his eyes, they were no longer the deep, icy blue, observing eyes. His pupils were encircled with a thin, silver ring.

You guys have no idea how hard this was.

So, this is a new collab-story that I'm working on with Jcaslcgaiwd. The idea came up... well, I actually don't know how it came up, so you'll have to ask her because I do not remember. Oh, and this story will also be on her account, so you won't have to switch accounts for different chapters.

This is the result of a writing rampage. Jcaslcgaid would have done the first chapter, but after having some difficulties, I decided to write it for her. Then came the extremely long period of time trying to decide how to freaking start this thing! I have not seen nor read The Host, so if I got anything wrong, I'm truly sorry. On Monday, I took my notebook out and tried to think of an idea. Then, the first sentence came up into my head. I just then decided, "You know what! Screw it! I'm just going to go with this and see what happens. Then came some very quick typing on my iPad, and that's how it was finished. I then did some research to correct myself on some of the terms (I didn't know that aliens were called Souls, so I had to change that). Again, I'm sorry. I tried to read the book, but it got boring.

I was actually getting depressed while writing this. I had to kill Sherlock! I bet Moffat didn't feel this bad.

Anyway, while I recuperate from practically destroying our precious consulting detective, Jcaslcgaid will write the second chapter.

Oh, and the Healer is named Wanda since that is Benedict Cumberbatch's mom's name and they didn't announce it in the show.

Let's see if you can guess who the two Seekers were. :)

Have a great day and let me know how good or how awful this was.

-Star Trekker 13