It was sudden, that's all the police knew. One moment they were checking on the person who lived here and the next thing they were running out with hands-on their radios for back up. It didn't take long till the place was invested with police. They then too became stunned by what they were seeing, shaking off their unease the team marks every small coin littering the ground as they dance over dead body.

Two officers stand apart from the chaos, looking everywhere but the body in the middle. One of them kicks the ground before trying to sneak out their phone.

"You can't really," the officer next to him whispers.

The man looks up then back to the phone, "What else are we supposed to do?" he broadly points to the crime scene with his arm. "Do you really think we can solve this, what do you think happened here. A murder, a suicide?" The other opens his mouth but nothing comes out as he looks over the room. His partner has a point, never had he seen something like this. Murder, of course, suicide, it wasn't uncommon, but this?

For the most part almost everything was dusted, and nothing was found. If nothing new is found they'll have to label it as a suicide if not 'unsolved'. After a moment of hesitation, the officer nodded to the man with the phone. "Do it."

Sitting in his chair John watches as Sherlock paces back and forth in the flat. He stops and takes a breath, "Bored!" he yells.

And there it is, John thinks before going back to reading his newspaper he had in his hand. He knew this was going to happen, there wasn't a single case that caught his attention this week. But he could deal with a bit of whining from his flatmate. He flips a page as Sherlock speeds up his pacing.

Sherlock yells again but John didn't blink an eye. He knew what Sherlock was trying to do, if he was bored, he could go out by himself, he didn't need to entertain him by getting angry or suggesting things to do. And besides, a case always manages to show up that will catch Sherlock's eye and once more they'll be running around, possibly in extreme danger like always. Trouble always finds them, John sighs internally before flipping another page. As if the world heard his thoughts Sherlock's phone vibrated.

A second didn't even pass before the phone was tightly held in his hands, eyes wide, desperate for something interesting. A smile splits Sherlock's face and John knew.

"who's that."

"The police, now get up we have a new case to solve." Sherlock shot to the door as John folds his newspaper and set it aside, he'll finish it later. Sherlock throws open the door and flies down the stairs, leaving John to shut the door and to casually follow after.

As John walks out into the cold morning he could see Sherlock already climbing into a taxi. Convenient, John huffs before climbing in too. The car took off down the road as soon as the door clicked closed.

The car ride was mostly quiet, empty with words till they arrived. They reached the edge of London, the car slows downs on the gravel road that leads to a large white house. Bright yellow tape cuts off the large open space with only one police officer loitering outside. Sherlock takes no time to jump out, once again leaving John to pay the nice taxi driver.

Sherlock bounds down the path and ducks under the tape before facing both the door to the house and the officer. He nodded in a silent greeting at him as he walks past. Mind already buzzing with information of the man who lived here Sherlock pushes open the door just as John joins him. Heavy, expensive door, white dustless hallway, no pictures on the walls.

A man who values his wealth more then anyone else, Sherlock concludes as they both walk down the path. John matches his fast pace as they aim for the kitchen, where no doubt the stench was coming from. A few coins liter the hallway, Sherlock didn't take a second look at the two as they pass.

The hallway opens up and the two pauses as soon as their eyes landed on the body in the middle of the kitchen. Coins, glass, and chairs litter the ground, one cabinet was open, all leading to the body in the middle. The body. It was a young man on his back, mouth full of coins with a lone hand on his throat.

"bloody hell," chokes out John, Sherlock couldn't help but agree just a tiny bit. No doubt that this was a murder. His eyes rack over the kitchen, slowly making the story of what happened. John could feel Sherlock's mind start to hum before he steps away from him and closer to the body. John stays back, still trying to get over his shock. Gruesome was all John's mind came up with as he stares at the man's blue face, frozen in fear. It was nothing compared to brains or guts, but unlike most, the man must have had a slow death, who would do something as dark as this

A lot of people, John hears a little voice in hisheadad, but he shakes it off. This was not the time, he has a murder to solve. Like Sherlock, he closes the space between him and the body. Now, this close he could see how dark the blue his face really was, the red lines in his eyes, and how his shirt collar was wrinkled from where he, no doubt tried to fight for his life. John shakes his head again, this time more in pity before going to talk with the officers around. This must have a clear killer in the family, or maybe an ex-lover, or the off chance that this was some sort of accident or suicide.

Behind John Sherlock dances around the room, looking at every angle. He kneels down next to a knocked-down chair. There was a struggle, Sherlock thinks, but nothing that would involve no one but the man himself. The only way it would work was if he was putting coins in his mouth on purpose, unless he was an idiot there was no way this could happen.

As he was looking around, trying to see if he was missing something important, he catches a flash of red. Sherlock freezes, it was alone, red candy wrapper laying right beside the dead man's head. It was almost invisible if you were standing in the entrance.

His mind starts to go overdrive, the man didn't eat candy. It was left by the killer.

He twists around to where John and the officers stood in conversation, he didn't say anything as he walks up and grabs an evidence bag and tweezers sitting on the counter, although he doubts that the killer had left their fingerprints on the wrapper. Back near the body, wrapper safely in the bag, he takes a closer look. This man wasn't liked, it was clear, no picture frames. A quick check of his wallet and phone, full of many stacks of money, shows no kids or anything that is dear to him. The house itself was clearly a show on his money, not for luxury.

He moves the face around, eyeing the veins and skin, a lot of people could easily hate him enough to kill him. hands slide over his chest, something was wrong.

It was a lot bigger than any normal deceased orrson's chest, a little pressure on it proved something much worst. He tries his stomach, it was like any normal dead body. Impossible, Sherlock mutters something before going back to the man's chest. If he were to guess right, there were coins in his lungs. A quick check under his shirt shows no cuts or anything that would imply someone had cut him open.

Back at the flat it was the same as before the duo left except that Sherlock was deep in thought. John didn't dare try to read after they came back, with everything that happened John couldn't concentrate on anything. As soon as they came back Sherlock took over the kitchen like always, but for once he came up empty-handed. It both excited and enraged the detective, John just watches this happen at a distance. He had no idea what could have happen, as he was questing the officers Sherlock had yelled to get the body dissected up before dragging John out without another word.

He tried to help multiply times as Sherlock looked at the wrapper under the microscope, but he couldn't add anything that Sherlock didn't know. If he didn't know better, and he does, this stumped Sherlock as much as it did him. So he just stayed back as the day darkened, letting Sherlock do his 'magic'.

It was almost completely dark when Sherlock's phone vibrated again, John looks up from his laptop. Sherlock continued walking, not giving the phone his time of day. When it was clear he wasn't going to look John gives a soft grunt before putting his laptop away and standing up to look at the phone. It was still on with on message that says 'come here now' followed by the address. The number had no name.

The screen went dark and Sherlock went on with his pacing. The phone vibrated again right as John was planning on sitting down again, this time it says 'now, please. As soon as you can.'

This would be good for a brake, although John wasn't sure if Sherlock will walk out of this case easily. He places the phone down and faces Sherlock, a plan already forming.

"I think I'm going to go for a little walk." He watches Sherlock, he did nothing to show that he heard him.

"there was a new candy store that opened close here," still nothing. "I think they just started to sell the same kind of candy that you found at the crime scene, but that was a while ago." Sherlock's head peaks up, now he caught his attention. "I think that it's worth looking at."And it goes right past the address the phone gave.

"Great thinking. why didn't I think of that first." Sherlock spins on his heels and takes his own jacket, taking the lead down and out of the flat and to the street. Together they walk side by side, John watches carefully as Sherlock is lost in thought again.

John was the first to spot the officers, peering around the people he could see a car that had ran into a building. The more they walk the more of the car he could see, just like seeing the man stuffed with coins the scene sent a shock through him, stopping John in his steps. The car front was completely smashed with dark red blood still slowly spilling out. No way anyone could survive that.

Sherlock walks on a few steps before stopping as he realized John wasn't with him. He spins around and faces John how was frozen in fear. Catching on he looks to the crash, "impossible," he whispers before walking towards the car. It was just like the other murder, something that shouldn't happen. John joins beside him.

"It would be impossible for that car to even reach that speed to create that type of impact," Sherlock says before moving past and peering into the crushed car.

"Well, if this car can't go that fast to crash in that way, then what happened?" The detective ignores his partner as he slowly walks around the whole car. When looking through the crushed back seat window he freezes.

"John, you don't happen to have a glove on you, do you?"

Chilled wind blew through the crowd on a random street, many people tucked into their jackets except for a short man in the crowd. Slowly he strolls down smiling with both hands in his pocket. His sharp golden eyes drift over stores, many of them were closed. His right pocket shifts before he pulls out a lollipop, his fingers dance around the stick before pulling off the wrapper and stuffing it into his mouth.

While he turns down a random street, he shoves the wrapper back onto his pocket. After doing a large circle around he loops back until he stands in front of a closed dance class. He is the only soul on the street. he takes out his lollipop and tilts his head to the sky, looking straight down the path.

Distantly he could hear muffled screams and thumps coming from the inside. He twists the candy in his hand before smiling darkly and popping it back in his mouth. The man shrugs his shoulder, stretching them out before walking away and letting the sound die out.

Now, what to do next.