Vamplocked
"What's up with this case?" John thought as he stood next to Sherlock analyzing the body in front of them.
It was early evening and the air was heavy and it smelled like rain, as if a storm was brewing. They were standing in a dark alley around the dead body of a man; there was a heavy atmosphere that hung around it that gave John the man died from a broken neck and all of his blood being drained from his body. It was a gruesome sight; even Sherlock looked displeased at it, which confused John. Sherlock loved crime scenes.
"Sherlock, are you okay?" John asked, slightly worried about him.
Sherlock let almost a sigh out and said "Yes…I'm okay, why wouldn't I be?"
Nodding warily John looked over the only 'evidence' they had, if you could even call it that. All they had were two puncture wounds, where the blood was most likely drained from, on his neck and a note that said "I WAS HUNGRY" on the man's chest written in what seemed to be some of the man's blood. No one said it aloud but everyone was thinking this was the work of a vampire.
"It's a vampire, I know it! I just do!" Anderson blurted out like the idiot he is.
Sherlock seemed to tense up, usually the way he does when he is accused, and then let out a sigh.
"Anderson, what kind of stupidity goes on through your head to think this was a vampireattack?" Sherlock asked with a bored tone.
"Well, all his blood is gone. Or at least most of it… and there are two holes in his neck that look like a vampire bite!" Anderson said defiantly.
Sherlock gave him a hard glare and Anderson's eyes filled with fright.
"What was Sherlock going to do to Anderson, turn into a vampire and suck his blood?" John humored the thought trying his best not to giggle.
"This is obviously the work of a serial killer…" Sherlock said snapping John out of his thoughts. "…who is selling the blood to some kind ofsick black market for money. Think about it; the killer gets the satisfaction of killing and getting money to do so all the while making it look like a vampire attack." Sherlock finished his deduction, brushing off the front of his coat then walking away at a brisk pace.
Everyone watched as Sherlock walked off. Everyone present was amazed by his deduction; it made perfect sense, too. John looked up and saw Sherlock already hailing a taxi, he wondered if Sherlock was going to leave without him until Sherlock beckoned him over. John quickly walked over to Sherlock who was getting into the taxi and telling the cabbie where to go. By the looks of it it was probably going to rain very soon. John reached the taxi quickly not wanting to be a hold up. He got in and saw that Sherlock almost seemed to be uncomfortable.
"Strange…" John thought to himself.
Sherlock kept glancing up at the cabbie and twitching his nose. What the bloody hell was wrong with him? John looked at the cabbie; she had brown hair that went far past her shoulders that was tied up in a braid. In the rearview he saw she had chocolate brown eyes and he swore they almost seemed some to hvave a tint of red. She was wearing black leather gloves that were cut off at the second knuckle and a long coat almost like Sherlock's but almost tinted a grey-green sort of color. She wore no make-up what so ever and had a calm, satisfied expression. He read her license card; it said "Phoenix Michaelis". John found her name very strange but unique.
John looked over to Sherlock to see him staring at the back of the cabbie's head intently.
"Hey um…seems like it's going to rain tonight, don't you think?" John said wanting to break the silence.
"John…it's already raining, it's pouring!" Sherlock said with a face that seemed to say 'It seems you have been listening to Anderson talk too much' making John feel a little silly.
"How could I have not noticed?" John said sarcastically.
"John, next time Anderson starts talking exit the room immediatly. He has lowered your IQ far too much already." Sherlock said with a serious face. John and Sherlock stared at each other for a few seconds before breaking out into giggles.
"Well at least I have a high enough IQ to not forget my pants while going to the Buckingh-"
"221b Bakers Street here ya go!" The cabbie announced in a American accent.
John realized how the time just went by while looking at the cabbie and talking to Sherlock. It was already late in the evening; about 9:00 pm. John was ready for bed after a hot shower and a cup of tea. Whereas what Sherlock would be up too while John was asleep no one knew except for Sherlock himself.