"I want to know more about your dreams," Sherlock murmured. His eyes gazed into mine and filled me with warmth. The low, husky voice crept around my ears and penetrated into my skull. He moved closer to me and I ran out of room as I shuffled to the head of the bed. I could feel his breath ooze over my chest and I shuddered slightly from the sensation of it dancing across my skin.

~I think I found the cause of global warming.~

"I…I told you everything," I stammered. My breath caught as he moved towards my ear.
"Then go back to sleep," He whispered.

I fainted.

~*A small black butterfly fluttered through the garden and out onto the water. The person that entered the room made me turn my head and glance at the message on the board: I love you.
Her warm arms wrapped around my waist as she whispered into my ear.

…we're just making each other miserable, she whispered
You make me happy… I responded.
But you make me miserable.

I stood and looked out the window. For a moment I wished I could leap out of it, but I turned and looked at the dark room, seeing the light outlining the door. I heard her cry out as I stepped backwards.*~

"Jooohhhhnnn?" Cooed a husked voice. I woke slower than I had for the past few days. Sherlock was perched over me, smiling at my dreamy state.
"Nnnnnnggh… how long was I asleep?" I muttered, rolling to the side. Sherlock rolled with me and played with some of my hair.
"A day," he smiled. He twirled my hair in his fingers and I blushed lightly.
"A…day?" I repeated, "What time-?"
"It's 9.30, but we don't have to get up if you don't want to."
"Sherlock? What-ah!" I groaned as he attacked my neck with his lips. I tried to push him off, but his strength scarily surpassed mine.
"John?" Sherlock inquired, his face millimeters away from mine. I was pinned to the bed and could feel his breath penetrating my face.
"Y-yes?"
"I want my memories back," Sherlock closed the gap and kissed me viciously, his tongue inspected every detail of my mouth and he gnawed at my lips. He pulled the sheets off me, followed by my pyjamas. I watched as Sherlock eyed my figure with a hungry look in his eyes. I tried to squirm in protest but my body wouldn't move. My hands and feet became numb and as I managed to move my head up to look at them, I gasped. My hands and feet were becoming darker, the shape diminished and soon they were pools of black oozing onto the bed. The darkness spread through my body and I felt tears run down my face as Sherlock dipped his fingers into the puddles of black- the puddles of me. Sickness gripped me as Sherlock licked the sludge melting off my chest.
"I remember…" Sherlock whispered.
"What are you talking about?" I rasped, scared of what was happening to me, "…you're not Sherlock, are you? You're the one from before."
"Yes, John. But who am I?"
"…Xiakara? No, wait. She doesn't destroy, like you."
"True. Make another deduction."
"I wouldn't know. Bruce seems too stupid to be able to do something like this, Skip is a…a…"
"Kangaroo."
"Umm…right. And Archanderal can't speak English."
"Can't she?"
"…No?" My voice was fainting, I could see the darkness reaching my neck. I looked up at the one-who-resembled-Sherlock and saw flakes fall from his face and hair. As the darkness crawled up my neck, the figure next to me had shed their skin, "you…you're the one from the dreams."
"Am I? You're going to have to jog my memory a bit," She whispered as she sank her hands into the liquid I left behind. I closed my eyes as I melted into darkness.