Hey guys! so here's the second chapter of Snowy Selene. Enjoy!
"Your new nightmare…" she said quietly, almost without a sound.
The threat hang in the air, like a dead convict. Yet, John wasn't one to be afraid. He half closed his eyes and scoffed.
"Oh, so you're the new villain in town and you came in to check on the smartest detective to let him know how long you plan on staying with us?" he said in his most sarcastic tone.
"Oh, no, no! I only popped in to give him a little warning, that's all" she competed in sarcasm.
"Right, because you're so very frightening." memories came back. Mycroft in that building, then at the apartment, trying to scare him, but failing miserably.
"I can be, doctor Watson." She walked slowly, pace steady, eyes wild. If someone else stood at John's place, the girls eyes would have pierced through them. "I know how to get to Sherlock Holmes. It's not a secret anymore. Sir Moriarty and Charles Augustus Magnussen," she said the names mockingly, with the tone of irony filling her voice. "found it out quite easily." She was inches away from him, her face tilted down. She raised her hand "all I have to do is apply pressure right here" she put one finger on the side of his neck "or here…" she moved her finger slowly, drawing a line to his spine. "and you'll be unconscious."
John knew what she was doing. She was referring to a man's pressure points. His mind was racing to manifest a way to block her attack. He knew it was coming but he also knew that there wasn't anything to do. She had the high ground. A push in one of the pressure points would knock him out. He shouldn't have let her come that close, let alone touch him.
"Dearest Sherlock will run to save his pretty princess and then I can have my happy ending." she continued like she was telling an old folk tale.
"After he dies of course." She added the macabre part of the story.
She leaned in closer, her lips whispering in his ear. "If I were you, I'd let that pocket knife right where it is." her voice low and deadly. She stood up straight and looked at him as if she knew exactly what he was going to do.
John didn't care if she had deduced his moves, he had to do something, he had to warn Sherlock in any way possible.
"Well…" he said. "It's a good thing I have my own mind." He looked at her, now his eyes piercing hers; and he attacked.
Everything happened in a blur. He took out his small pocket knife from the back pocket of his jeans and without throwing his arm back to gain speed, he immediately directed it to her stomach. She jumped back the second the knife would have sliced her. John attacked again. He drove the knife to his right and at her face. She leaned back and avoided the hit. John accidentally hit the table with his hand, not realising how close he was and the effort he put into the action, and the knife fell down. She punched him in the ribs with her right hand. He blocked the fist and grabbed her arm. She made a circle with her hand still in John's grip, and hit his elbow with her other hand. John groaned in pain. He tried to remember his training. Yes, the moves came slowly back to him. He lifted his right arm and passed it forcibly over her head. When he stood up straight again; he was behind the girl with her arm stretched in a weird angle. He had her. He was now one step ahead and right when he thought she was helpless, she hit his forehead with the back of her head. He stepped back, dazzled by the strike. She broke loose and turned quickly to face him. John was standing next to the table in front of the window. She walked in a circle and threw herself at him. He raised his hand to block her but she was ready. She changed her strategy at the last minute and kicked his right knee. John lost his balance. She lurched forward and he walked unsteadily back. The girl circled around herself with one leg stretched. She kicked John and threw him down. He landed on the couch and after a second she was on top of him. Her hands, like snakes, folded around his neck and for a whole second she was strangling him.
John saw it. He was going to die. Minutes passed, hours, days, months and years. Her eyes, only two slits, and behind the black eyelashes, her honey eyes now turned cold, hard and gold, filled with fury; her upper lip curved, her skin stiff, her fingers locked and frozen. John didn't have time. He couldn't warn Sherlock. He would never see him again. He thought about everyone who'd be gone because of him. He was positive that after the girl was done with him, she'd hunt down Mary and Molly and Lestrade andHHH everyone he'd ever met. Then she would find Sherlock. He would be last. Forced to watch all of them die one by one. She was worse than Moriarty, because she had actually reached the point of killing someone before Sherlock could stop her and she would continue. Sherlock… Never again. Never, never… And then the second was over.
well that was intense...
let me know if you liked it and some of your thoughts
"IS JOHN DEAD?" *someone*
"well dear someone... spoilers"