John, laden with grocery bags, unlocked the door to his apartment, 221B. He walked up the creaky wooden steps and opened the door at the top. The apartment was dark. He set his groceries on a counter in the kitchen.
"John." The voice came unexpectedly from the living room. John jumped, startled. "Sherlock?" John peered into the darkness. He thought he could make out his friend's figure, sitting on the sofa.
John laughed nervously. "Sherlock, what are you doing?"
"John."
John sighed. He walked over to Sherlock and sat next to him. He knew Sherlock would eventually explain what he was doing. John listened to Sherlock's breathing, soft and steady.
Then, suddenly, Sherlock was on top of him, his warm breath in John's face. His heart froze—then started beating faster. He wondered if Sherlock could hear it. Before John could say anything, he felt Sherlock's lips pressed against his. John had imagined Sherlock's kisses to be soft and gentle, but they were strong and passionate. Sherlock ran his tongue across John's lips. John parted his lips and let the taste of Sherlock fill his mouth. Sherlock placed his hands on either side of John's face and continued kissing him harder and harder.
John felt a sharp pain in his lower lip. He broke away from Sherlock, touching his lip. He felt blood.
Sherlock didn't stop kissing John. He kissed his forehead, his nose, his ear, his neck. Then, John felt a searing pain in his neck. He gasped audibly. John touched his fingers to his neck, which was oozing blood. It stung. How could human teeth make a wound like this?
John pushed Sherlock off and stood up, terrified. He started moving toward the door, moving slowly in the darkness. Too slowly. John cried out as a weight crashed into him. It was Sherlock. Sherlock bit into John's shoulder and tore off a chunk of cloth and flesh.
Still pinned to the ground, John turned to look at Sherlock. His face was reflected in the moonlight. What John saw made him freeze. Sherlock's eyes were dark, filled with hunger and insanity. He opened his mouth and John saw sharp, bloody teeth, like an animal's. He lunged at John's neck. Petrified with both fear and blood loss, John was helpless.
And so his life ended.