The Past Returns
A/N: I am planning a sequel to this in another category, but should Holmes be in it? In your reviews, (Cough, Cough REVIEW Cough, Cough) please tell me what you want. Also, can someone PLEASE tell me how to do italics on here? The slashes are getting annoying!
Part 4
Lyssa's POV "What is going on?" Holmes asked. "You mean you haven't told him about your. family" Jager asked scornfully.
"I didn't know a group of people who want you dead so the can have limitless power and left you to suffer needlessly for your first ten years of life constituted as your family." I muttered darkly.
"Ah. neither did I, but it happens," Holmes said softly.
"Oh, stop it so the fun can start," Jager said.
I muttered something involving curses and sadism and vampires. I opened my shoulder bag. The minute I finished my wand, rowan rod infused with moonfire, and my dagger went flying, then boomeranged back to make me dizzy enough that, easily overpowered, my throat was pierced by a pair of razor-sharp vampire fangs, and the last thing I heard was a loud bang and the smoky scent of gunpowder, followed by blood, a small amount, a few drops, falling in my mouth and down my throat, where a half finished scream was frozen in place.
I dizzily stood up. My stuff was next to Holmes.
"Holmes, toss me my rowan wand so I can finish him off, since you failed to consider that he just MIGHT BE INVINCEABLE TO ALL NON MAGIC WEAPONS!" I finished by shouting.
"Which one is it?" He asked, puzzled.
"Maybe the one glowing very brightly, you idiotic guesser!" I snapped. I was tired and very annoyed. Holmes looked up, shocked. He reluctantly tossed it to me. I caught it effortlessly in my left hand and raised it. I snapped it down quickly, sending a silver rope of liquid moonfire to wrap around Jager. He vanished when it vanished, badly burned. I said several violent curses in both English and Spanish under my breath before the stress, blood loss, vampire chemical type thingies, the strain of manipulating moonfire, and the fact that, oh, yeah, this happened at MIDNIGHT ganged up and I passed out.
Part 5
The next day, I woke up late. About. three PM? I got dressed in a loose black skirt and flare sleeved white top with my red glitter sneakers. I saw Holmes nursing a badly burnt hand. I grimaced as I remembered that a rowan rod would burn anyone who touched it but its owner. A brilliant idea came to my head, making me grin. I ran to get my wand and a book. This would be FUN!
When Watson came over, I was laughing so hard it hurt, and Holmes was annoyed beyond belief, and his hand was still burnt.
"Watson, she is not very good at this! She-she-" Holmes started indignantly.
"Turned him into a mouse!" I laughed.
"How about I do it," Watson said, hiding a smile.
"No, seriously! I can do it!" I sputtered. "Aquaria!" The burn vanished. Holmes looked annoyed.
"That sounds nothing like Referia," Holmes said accusingly. Then comprehension dawned in his eyes. "You turned me into a mouse on purpose!" I ducked to keep him from strangling me.
I laughed and ran to my room. I turned into a ferret and climbed to a shelf. When Holmes came in, I leaped as a leopard in front of him. He gulped and ran. I laughed and locked my door. As long as I stayed in Baker Street, I knew one thing for sure. It would be very interesting.
I heard a knock on my door.
"Alyssa- I mean Leslie, wake up!" I groaned at Holmes' voice. It was a year afterwards, exactly. TO THE MINUTE! And he was cheerful. Was this a nightmare? Please?
"Somebody better be dead," I grumbled. At least Holmes called me by my first name, it took six months, and many threats to do that.
I pulled on a thick sweater, warm jeans, and boots. Knowing Holmes, we would be going out . Then. Annoying, huh? And I'm half vampire. And a witch. And. SIXTEEN? I totally forgot today was my birthday, November 1. I grabbed my wand, so if it was a false alarm (anything short of Jack the Ripper in the sitting room) Holmes would be facing a ticked spellsinger with a wand. I went downstairs, wondering how I should deal with Holmes.
When I got there, Holmes was showing a girl, about a year or two older than me, with curly brown hair and brown eyes that looked very familiar, to a chair. From her outfit, I guessed she was dirt poor. I don't know, though, Holmes first thought I was a runaway rich girl. I sighed.
"Hello, I'm Alyssa Argent," I said, using the false name I had given Holmes the first time we met. He was semi-conscious at the time. He never told me exactly who wanted him dead that particular time. Oh, well.
"I'm Elizabeth Granger."
That explains it, then. This was Hermione's great-grandmother Lizzie she told me about. Okay. This is odd. Very.
"Miss Argent, I assume you have heard of the Widow's Fate?" She continued. Um, yeah, I did. Holmes had been talking nonstop about it for, about. three weeks? He couldn't try to solve it, apparently, unless Scotland Yard or a client asked him to. I think. I didn't listen when he started repeating himself a week or two ago. I didn't get it.
The story is this. Four weeks ago, a widow, Laurel Bates (yes, that was her name) was found with her throat slit on her bed, her wedding ring taken off and chopped in two, it's six precious stones stolen. Next week, another widow, Lorelei Cassanova, had gone through the same fate. Last week, Celeste Dupree was his next victim. It seemed that all of London had been waiting to hear who his next victim was.
She was Eleanor Granger, Elizabeth's mom. Apparently, Elizabeth found her two hours ago. She was upset, and ran out to get a police officer, but there was none on sight. She ran inside, got dressed, and ran over here. It took her a half hour, and she fell in a half dried mud puddle. It took nearly an hour to wake Mrs. Hudson and convince her to let her in, and another half hour to wake Holmes, have him wake me up, and tell her story.
After Holmes heard the facts, he immediately agreed to take the case.
I wondered what he would do when Jack the Ripper came to town. I sighed and resigned myself to the worst.
"Where should we start?" I asked.
"Go see the crime scene," Holmes said, impatient. See, Elizabeth didn't tell the police yet, so the trail was clear.
"Go report the crime and get a few hours of sleep, and THEN look at the crime scene?" I suggested hopefully. I let him see my wand
"All right, I guess," He said.
" Then lets get Miss Granger a nightgown," I said.
"What?!" Holmes sputtered.
"I don't want to leave a client in a crime scene, do you?" It was calculated to make him get embarrassed, and a not-so-subtle reminder to keep his guard up. It also had a bonus: Payback.
"That sounds lovely!" Elizabeth said. I grinned to myself. Perky client on the very case Holmes has been dieing to get. Let the games begin!
"She stays in your room, and you get the couch" I told Holmes cheerfully.
A/N: Continue? Review to see who wins: Perky or Cynic? Will Lez die laughing? Will the case get solved at all? To not be evil, I will give a hint. "Cornered rats bite."
A/N: I am planning a sequel to this in another category, but should Holmes be in it? In your reviews, (Cough, Cough REVIEW Cough, Cough) please tell me what you want. Also, can someone PLEASE tell me how to do italics on here? The slashes are getting annoying!
Part 4
Lyssa's POV "What is going on?" Holmes asked. "You mean you haven't told him about your. family" Jager asked scornfully.
"I didn't know a group of people who want you dead so the can have limitless power and left you to suffer needlessly for your first ten years of life constituted as your family." I muttered darkly.
"Ah. neither did I, but it happens," Holmes said softly.
"Oh, stop it so the fun can start," Jager said.
I muttered something involving curses and sadism and vampires. I opened my shoulder bag. The minute I finished my wand, rowan rod infused with moonfire, and my dagger went flying, then boomeranged back to make me dizzy enough that, easily overpowered, my throat was pierced by a pair of razor-sharp vampire fangs, and the last thing I heard was a loud bang and the smoky scent of gunpowder, followed by blood, a small amount, a few drops, falling in my mouth and down my throat, where a half finished scream was frozen in place.
I dizzily stood up. My stuff was next to Holmes.
"Holmes, toss me my rowan wand so I can finish him off, since you failed to consider that he just MIGHT BE INVINCEABLE TO ALL NON MAGIC WEAPONS!" I finished by shouting.
"Which one is it?" He asked, puzzled.
"Maybe the one glowing very brightly, you idiotic guesser!" I snapped. I was tired and very annoyed. Holmes looked up, shocked. He reluctantly tossed it to me. I caught it effortlessly in my left hand and raised it. I snapped it down quickly, sending a silver rope of liquid moonfire to wrap around Jager. He vanished when it vanished, badly burned. I said several violent curses in both English and Spanish under my breath before the stress, blood loss, vampire chemical type thingies, the strain of manipulating moonfire, and the fact that, oh, yeah, this happened at MIDNIGHT ganged up and I passed out.
Part 5
The next day, I woke up late. About. three PM? I got dressed in a loose black skirt and flare sleeved white top with my red glitter sneakers. I saw Holmes nursing a badly burnt hand. I grimaced as I remembered that a rowan rod would burn anyone who touched it but its owner. A brilliant idea came to my head, making me grin. I ran to get my wand and a book. This would be FUN!
When Watson came over, I was laughing so hard it hurt, and Holmes was annoyed beyond belief, and his hand was still burnt.
"Watson, she is not very good at this! She-she-" Holmes started indignantly.
"Turned him into a mouse!" I laughed.
"How about I do it," Watson said, hiding a smile.
"No, seriously! I can do it!" I sputtered. "Aquaria!" The burn vanished. Holmes looked annoyed.
"That sounds nothing like Referia," Holmes said accusingly. Then comprehension dawned in his eyes. "You turned me into a mouse on purpose!" I ducked to keep him from strangling me.
I laughed and ran to my room. I turned into a ferret and climbed to a shelf. When Holmes came in, I leaped as a leopard in front of him. He gulped and ran. I laughed and locked my door. As long as I stayed in Baker Street, I knew one thing for sure. It would be very interesting.
I heard a knock on my door.
"Alyssa- I mean Leslie, wake up!" I groaned at Holmes' voice. It was a year afterwards, exactly. TO THE MINUTE! And he was cheerful. Was this a nightmare? Please?
"Somebody better be dead," I grumbled. At least Holmes called me by my first name, it took six months, and many threats to do that.
I pulled on a thick sweater, warm jeans, and boots. Knowing Holmes, we would be going out . Then. Annoying, huh? And I'm half vampire. And a witch. And. SIXTEEN? I totally forgot today was my birthday, November 1. I grabbed my wand, so if it was a false alarm (anything short of Jack the Ripper in the sitting room) Holmes would be facing a ticked spellsinger with a wand. I went downstairs, wondering how I should deal with Holmes.
When I got there, Holmes was showing a girl, about a year or two older than me, with curly brown hair and brown eyes that looked very familiar, to a chair. From her outfit, I guessed she was dirt poor. I don't know, though, Holmes first thought I was a runaway rich girl. I sighed.
"Hello, I'm Alyssa Argent," I said, using the false name I had given Holmes the first time we met. He was semi-conscious at the time. He never told me exactly who wanted him dead that particular time. Oh, well.
"I'm Elizabeth Granger."
That explains it, then. This was Hermione's great-grandmother Lizzie she told me about. Okay. This is odd. Very.
"Miss Argent, I assume you have heard of the Widow's Fate?" She continued. Um, yeah, I did. Holmes had been talking nonstop about it for, about. three weeks? He couldn't try to solve it, apparently, unless Scotland Yard or a client asked him to. I think. I didn't listen when he started repeating himself a week or two ago. I didn't get it.
The story is this. Four weeks ago, a widow, Laurel Bates (yes, that was her name) was found with her throat slit on her bed, her wedding ring taken off and chopped in two, it's six precious stones stolen. Next week, another widow, Lorelei Cassanova, had gone through the same fate. Last week, Celeste Dupree was his next victim. It seemed that all of London had been waiting to hear who his next victim was.
She was Eleanor Granger, Elizabeth's mom. Apparently, Elizabeth found her two hours ago. She was upset, and ran out to get a police officer, but there was none on sight. She ran inside, got dressed, and ran over here. It took her a half hour, and she fell in a half dried mud puddle. It took nearly an hour to wake Mrs. Hudson and convince her to let her in, and another half hour to wake Holmes, have him wake me up, and tell her story.
After Holmes heard the facts, he immediately agreed to take the case.
I wondered what he would do when Jack the Ripper came to town. I sighed and resigned myself to the worst.
"Where should we start?" I asked.
"Go see the crime scene," Holmes said, impatient. See, Elizabeth didn't tell the police yet, so the trail was clear.
"Go report the crime and get a few hours of sleep, and THEN look at the crime scene?" I suggested hopefully. I let him see my wand
"All right, I guess," He said.
" Then lets get Miss Granger a nightgown," I said.
"What?!" Holmes sputtered.
"I don't want to leave a client in a crime scene, do you?" It was calculated to make him get embarrassed, and a not-so-subtle reminder to keep his guard up. It also had a bonus: Payback.
"That sounds lovely!" Elizabeth said. I grinned to myself. Perky client on the very case Holmes has been dieing to get. Let the games begin!
"She stays in your room, and you get the couch" I told Holmes cheerfully.
A/N: Continue? Review to see who wins: Perky or Cynic? Will Lez die laughing? Will the case get solved at all? To not be evil, I will give a hint. "Cornered rats bite."