A/N: Yep, still here! Still trying to write this thing. I still don't own Doctor Who or Supernatural or Sherlock but I still watch, you know, Netflix and stuff. I would like to thank everyone who is still reading this. You keep me going! Anyway, on to the next chapter! Reviews keep me motivated. I got two recently and it made me so happy that I just had to type out the next chapter. I try, I really do. I have like the next ten written out but the struggle is real to get me motivated to type it.

December 1885

Doctor Watson had never felt more uncomfortable in his life. He had never set foot in a brothel before and now here he was sitting in the foyer of one of the most well-known ones in London. Holmes was sitting next to him reading through the newspaper as nonchalantly as if he were sitting in the waiting room at a hospital. The room was very colorful with curtains, ribbons and poufs covering every inch of the room. They were surrounded by scantily clad women moving around them provocatively, smiling, winking and trying to show off extra skin to catch the handsome men's attention. Of course, Holmes was oblivious to all of this or possibly immune. In any case, he was not bothered by the presentation of the women. Watson, on the other hand, was trying to find some place safe to look and failing miserably.

"Well, hello Mr. Holmes. It's been a while since you graced my home."

Watson looked up at the top of the nearby staircase. A short, pale-skinned woman dressed in a lavish red dress with ruffle and black lace leaned on the railing. Her black hair was pulled up in a lavish display of curls. Watson was fairly sure he'd never seen so much make-up on a woman's face before.

"Mm, yes, and hopefully this will be the last," Holmes said setting the paper aside and standing to face her.

"Does Evelyn know you are here?" Miss Adler crooned softly as she slowly walked down the grand staircase.

"More to the point," Holmes said ignoring her comment. "I'm here about a ghost and a demon."

Miss Adler froze on the bottom step and glanced around nervously. None of the ladies or other guests seemed to have heard Holmes' last statement. Watson glanced between Holmes and Miss Adler. Holmes smirked.

"I think we need to speak somewhere a little more private," he said. Miss Adler pursed her lips.

"Yes, quite. This way," she said leading them off to the left where a heavy red curtain hung. She pushed it aside revealing a hidden hallway. Holmes stepped through and began walking down the hallway. Watson followed with Miss Adler right behind them. There was a single door at the end of the hall, Miss Adler pushed ahead, pulling a little gold key out of her bosom and unlocking the door. This room was nothing like the rest of the house. It was dark and covered in red runes. He wondered if they were written in blood. There were candles and body parts on every flat surface. Miss Adler closed and locked the door once they were all inside.

"What do you want to know, Mr. Holmes?" she asked.

"The name of the demon you work for, Miss Adler," Holmes replied. Miss Adler let out a tinkling laugh.

"You know I work for no one, Mr. Holmes," she said.

"The trapped spirit of Duchess Arabella Stanton tells me otherwise," Holmes retorted. "What have you done with her body?"

"Honestly, Mr. Holmes, do you think I am in the habit of keeping dead bodies?" Miss Adler laughed.

"You're a witch," Watson said looking around the room. "You keep all manner of vile things."

Miss Adler glared at him. "Rude."

"There is no reason to lie to us, Miss Adler," Holmes said. "You know I can see right through you. Now what is the name of your employer?"

"You know, I am not the only witch in this city. What makes you think I had anything to do with the trapping of this poor spirit?" Miss Adler asked.

"The spirit told us," Watson explained. "Gave us your name."

"Who is your employer, Charlotte?" Holmes asked.

"Forget it, I value my life too much to give away such information," Miss Adler said dropping all pretenses.

"If you do not give me the information I need I will expose you, Miss Adler. You will die either way so why not be useful?" Mr. Holmes said in a threatening tone.

"Believe me, nothing the police could do to me would even come close to what he would do to me if I name dropped," Miss Adler snapped. "Go ahead, expose me,"

"How about we cut a deal?" Watson cut in before Holmes could retort. Miss Adler looked at him suspiciously.

"What kind of deal?" she asked.

"Does your employer go to the cabin to kill the Hunters himself?" Watson asked.

"Yes," Miss Adler replied slowly.

"Good, then all we would need from you is to tell him that a couple of Hunters are headed that way tonight and we will handle the rest," Watson said. Miss Adler laughed.

"He's a demon. He knows a lie when he's given one."

"Then release the ghost," Holmes said.

"I can't," Miss Adler said.

"Can't or won't?" Holmes demanded. The two glared at each other in silence for a few minutes. Dr. Watson looked between ready to stop them from jumping at each other's throats.

"Get out of my establishment," Miss Adler said. Holmes smiled.

"I take it that is your permission for me to contact Scotland Yard about a witchcraft violation?" he asked brightly.

"You would not dare risk my life," Miss Adler said. "You need me."

"You overestimate how much worth you really hold for me," Holmes smirked. "Like you said earlier, there is more than one witch in this town. Now, I believe the police have a witch to arrest."

He straightened his coat and headed for the door. Watson placed his bowler hat on his head and picked up his cane he had leaned against the table.

"Wait!" Miss Adler shouted. The two men stopped and looked at her. Miss Adler closed her eyes. "She's in the shed behind the cabin."

"Thank you, you have been most helpful. Good day, Miss Adler," Holmes said nodding to her before opening the door and stepping out. As they exited the building, Watson finally spoke.

"Did you just sign her death warrant? I know she's not a good woman but is this really worth her life?"

"She's consorting with demons. It was clearly a risk she was willing to take. Besides, she said her life was only at risk if she gave us the name of her employer," Holmes replied. Watson grabbed his friend's arm and swung him around.

"Holmes, you've never had to deal with this sort of thing before. Demons are coldblooded killers. They do not need a reason to kill someone. They force people to do things for them all the time. She probably didn't have a choice in the matter."

"Witches sell their souls to hell in order to perform spells. She is already that demon's whore. So she dies a bit sooner than she planned, big deal," Holmes said.

"I thought you had changed after Evelyn," Watson said looking disappointed.

"Watson, Evelyn didn't change me and if she had tried I would have dumped her like yesterday's meatloaf. Now, quit being Mr. Noble and let us go put the duchess to rest."

Watson kicked in the door to the shed. Immediately, the stench of rotting flesh hit their nostrils. Watson stumbled back and covered his face. The corpse had been haphazardly and unceremoniously tossed into the cramped shed. Rotting flesh had been scraped off her body when she'd been shoved through the door and one of her arms seemed to have come unattached. The dress she wore was in almost the same condition as the body.

"That is vile," Watson gagged.

"Let's get her out of there so we can salt and burn her. Poor woman has suffered enough," Holmes said slipping on some gloves and a hospital coat. Watson dug into his own bag and followed suit. They tried as gently as possible to pry the body out. Once she was freed, they laid the duchess out on the snow covered ground. Watson grabbed a tub of salt and shook it over the corpse. Holmes spread a bottle of lamp oil over her and pulled out a matchbook. He slipped a match out but before he lit it there came a bloodcurdling scream across the grounds.

"That came from the cabin," Watson said. "You don't think another Hunter got lured here, do you?"

"Go check it out. I'll catch up," Holmes said. Watson ripped off the coat and gloves and dug a pistol out of his bag. He quickly rushed toward the cabin. Holmes quickly dropped the match on the corpse and waited only a moment to ensure the body was burning before grabbing his own pistol and sprinting after Watson. He caught up just as Watson kicked the front door in, his salt-filled pistol aimed at the darkened room. He cursed and slipped inside. Holmes slunk in behind him.

A rope hung above the center of the room and dangling from it, eyes gouged out, tongue cut off, was Miss Charlotte Adler. Blood slowly dripped from her face onto the floor. She was still in her red dress. Watson walked over and checked her wrist for a pulse.

"Dead," he muttered. Holmes lit a lamp. The soft light brought no comfort. It just made the room dance eerily.

"She did warn you," a cold, sing-song voice spoke from the shadows. The two men whipped their guns around and pointed them towards the darkened stairwell. A short, well-dressed man stepped forward into the candlelight. His dark hair was neatly combed and he wore a smile reminiscent of a wild cat who had just cornered his prey. His eyes were dark pits. It was hard to tell where the iris ended and the pupil began.

"The famous detective, Sherlock Holmes and his trusty sidekick Dr. Jonathon Watson. I heard you two were Hunters. How delightful," he clapped his hands as he said this and suddenly the whites of his eyes vanished as his eyes turned solid black for a split second.

"Who are you?" Holmes demanded doing his utmost to hide the tremor in his voice. He had never met a demon before and he had really been hoping to have a bit more preparation time before he did. In fact, if he was honest with himself, he had been hoping that they were proper ghost stories and not actually real. It was just his luck that this was not so.

"Oh that is not important," the demon said waving one hand nonchalantly as he tucked the other into his coat pocket. "You actually figured out my ghost wasn't killing anyone. Not one Hunter prior tried to look into that. I've got to admit, I'm impressed. Annoyed but impressed. It's a shame I have to kill you now but it was fun while it lasted."

"Why Hunters?" Holmes asked trying to buy some time to come up with a plan to get them out of this mess.

"Where's the sport in killing people who have no idea what is going on? Sometimes it's fun when the prey fights back," the demon said with a grin.

"Would it not be better to fight Hunters who have fought demons before?" Holmes continued his query.

"Hell no, those bastards play dirty," the demon said with an exaggerated expression of disgust.

"You bet we do," Watson said placing his hand forcefully on a bloody sigil on the wall.

"NO!" the demon shouted before vanishing with a crack and bright flash of light. Holmes looked at Watson in astonishment. Watson tore part of the moldy old curtain off and wrapped it around his bleeding arm.

"What was that?" Holmes asked.

"That was a demon banishing sigil," Watson explained. "He's gone for now but he'll be back and he'll be angry. We need to plan accordingly."

"Where has he gone?" Holmes asked walking over to Miss Adler and starting to loosen the rope to let her down.

"I haven't the faintest idea but I'm fairly sure I know where he'll return to," Watson said helping to lower Miss Adler's body onto the floor.

"Where?"

"Oxford University," Watson replied.

"How do you figure that?" Holmes asked.

"Because that was Professor James Moriarty," Watson said with a sigh. "Only a mathematics professor would turn out to be a demon."