The demon of Baskerville – Chapter 02
The trio, using the car they 'rent' from Mycroft left the busy, animated London behind, heading to their new destination. Outside the city the landscape became plain and green until the eyes could see. And the air was fresh... So boring. The long travel was spent in quiet, Henry drove the car while John sat on the passenger's seat, Sherlock occupied the whole back and he was spectacularly bored. Instead John enjoyed the view he almost forgot and took some great effort not to loll out his tongue in the wind.
After a few hours of shaking they noticed something in the distance. It was a large, white building isolated by fences and guardsmen.
"What is that place?" pointed that way John.
"That's Baskerville." told them Henry "I'm sure its their fault the Hound is unleashed."
"Why you think?"
"Because Baskerville is famous about its animal experiments." explained Sherlock, instead of their customer. "They're possibly able to create such a beast like our Hound is."
"That's right!" nodded Henry, his fist tightened around the wheel. "They do nothing, but playing god, and throw away the junk. The nearby forest is surely full with their genetic failures." spit out the man. John changed a quick glance with his partner. It seems Henry knew more than he told them about Baskerville. Later they must have to find out, what he hides from them.
Soon they arrived to a small village, Dartmoor. It was a quiet little town with many idyllic cottages, perfect for the tourism. As they passed by the nearby inn and made a stop, Sherlock noticed a smaller crowd gathering around a guy, who gesticulated wildly and explained something to them.
"I was wondering, Mr. Knight... you never talked about the murders with the Scotland Yard?" spoke up Sherlock. The question startled Henry for a second, then scratched his stubbly chin.
"I did... around two months ago when the first murders happened. Your colleague, Inspector Lestrade personally committed to investigate the case. But I didn't see him since that."
"Hm..." Sherlock grabbed his suitcase and walked to the inn. John looked after him a bit confused.
"Well, thanks for the ride." he told Henry and followed his partner inside.
"He's hiding something." Sherlock spoke up after they rent a room and walked upstairs.
"What do you mean?" asked John, sitting onto the comfy bed and stretching out his arms.
"When I asked about Lestrade he hesitated! And we all known Lestrade is missing for almost two months now!"
"He what?" barked at him John shocked "I didn't know about that!"
"It's possible he found something that might solve all the Baskerville mystery and someone didn't appreciate it." it was like Sherlock didn't hear his groan, the gears in his brain twisted on high speed. "We must have to find out what was his discover!"
"We do? But how, its been months ago he was around. I can't catch up his scent." as an answer Sherlock grabbed a flashlight.
"How about some night adventure?"
On the same day, after the sun settled Sherlock and John left the inn and headed into the forest. They heard the previous victims were found nearby a place called Dewer's Hollow, the local phenomenon. Without any attendant they only had a map and two flashlights. Plus the dark, creepy forest around them. The darkness increased all the little noises humans usually never care about. The rustles, the owl's hoot, the wind blowing between the trees.
"This place creeps me out. My fur already quivered on my back." muttered John, gripping his flashlight tight as he followed his partner deep into the woods.
"Since when you become a sassy, John?" asked Sherlock as he swept the nearby trees.
"I'm not a sassy!" barked back the werewolf "Just my instincts alarming in my head. We shouldn't be here…" in the next moment he heard a noise with his sensitive ears. John rolled around scared, but he found nothing.
"I-It was just the breeze…" tried to calm himself, but when he turned back, he found himself alone "Sherlock? Damn, Sherlock, where are you? If this is a stupid game I tell you it's not funny…" he didn't get any answer, his stomach squeezed tight.
"S-Sherlock… damn man, please stop this…" the flashlight trembled in his hand, an unknown fear grew inside him, choking his throat. He made some step forward. This can't be he left him behind. This can't! He just accepted the fact his best friend is still alive, he didn't want to lose him again. John panicked and began to run.
"Sherlock! Sherlock where are you? Sherlock!" howled John, clomping through the vegetation as he tried to find his partner. He can't lose him… never again!
Suddenly his shoes slipped on the moist ground and tripped up. With a shout John tumbled down a hill, hitting his back and limbs on the roots and smaller rocks. Accompanied by a loud thud he landed on the bottom, falling into a puddle with face down. The flashlight knocked on a nearby rock, breaking into pieces. In the dark John snorted and shook his head wildly as he knelt up.
"Where am I?" rattled, but in the next moment a strong, heavy smell hit his nose. He thought it never ever happens with him again, but the scent already infected his mind.
Blood. The air was heavy by its rusty, salty, yet delicious smell. John glanced down at his hands. In the bare light he noticed they were covered in something that emitted this heady flavor. Even the puddle he knelt in. A pool made of blood. John wheezed as the beast tried to break his cage inside him. He hugged himself and trembled, his teeth already turned into fangs. He didn't want to transform, not here…
"John!" a sudden shout snapped him back to reality. Someone pushed a rag into his face and he was pulled out the puddle "Cover your nose!" John glared upon the unknown astonished.
"S-Sherlock…" stammered on a deeper voice. The man gazed back into his eyes, slight shine of worry reflected on his face.
"It seems you found Dewer's Hollow." sighed Sherlock, with the flashlight looked around in the dark, cold alley. The ground, the rocks and the trees were all covered in blood. John holds the tissue tight on his face to avoid its drugging smell. Then, between two trunks they found a corpse. It was a stag, or at least what remained from it. The poor animal was brutally torn apart, flesh and organs covered the ground around the body.
"What you think, John. Can an animal cause such massacre like this?" asked him Sherlock, examining the corpse closer. John grimaced, then noticed something in the soil.
"Whatever did this… it was big." answered and pointed down. Sherlock lightened the ground and they saw a huge, bloody footprint. It was larger than any known animal.
"The Hound." whispered Sherlock. John saw the fear in his eyes, mixed with that curiosity and excitement he knew just to well. They were on the right way.
End of chapter 02