This is my first long story I've ever tried writing along with my fist time trying to write Sherlock or Supernatural. The first chapter is pretty short but I hope to have more up soon. Please enjoy and I would love to hear your input.
"Bored!"
"That doesn't mean you can mean you can practically burn down the flat, Sherlock."
Bzzzz
Sherlock and John looked up from the fresh burn marks on the table. A client. It had almost been a whole 24 hours without an interesting case and Sherlock was getting antsy. Once the women was sitting down in the flat Sherlock looked her over. She said her name was Rita, she was middle aged, dyed brown hair, original color showing slightly at her roots. Her hair was a mess, skin pale, bags under her eyes. Signs of grieving. The death was sudden and suspicious, but the police won't or more likely can't help her, which is why she is here.
"Ma'ma, if you don't mind, please tell us what's happened," John said in an encouraging voice.
"It's my nephew, Marcus, it happened about a month ago," She took a deep breath before continuing. "He was killed. He was in the states visiting a friend who had moved away a few years back. The police Marcus and two of his friends were taking a shortcut through the forest in order to get to their friend's house when they were… they were murdered."
Rita had said nothing so far that peaked Sherlock's interest. Most likely a robbery gone wrong, just a grieving aunt wanting justice.
John knew that so far Sherlock wasn't going to take the case, but he really did feel sorry for this women and wanted to help her, "I'm sorry for your loss, but why come to us? You must have talked to the police by now."
"My sister, Marcus's mother, and her husband have spoken with the police, but they haven't had a lead in weeks. All that they have done is identify the type of murder weapon and discover that two men were seen walking away from where Marcus and his friends were killed. Nobody knows who these men are and nobody can find them." Rita sounded desperate.
Sherlock guessed from the lack of wedding band that her nephew was the closest thing that she had to a child of her own. A murder sounded somewhat interesting, but not enough to travel to the states for.
Rita shifted in her seat, "The thing is , not only my nephew but his friends too, they," her voice cracked and she took a shaky breath, "their heads were cut off. All three of them."
Disappearing men, murder, beheading. This sounded interesting. Sherlock finally spoke up, "We'll take the case."