Hi everyone! I'm back! Miss me? ......What, no cheering crowds? * sighs *
Oh well...
I hope you all liked the 2nd chapter cause this ones gonna be good! Or at least it'll be longer... I'm gonna be real mean in this chap so don't get upset, K? I have many theories on how Holmes lost his parents. The one you are about to encounter is one of them. I know.I'm evil but...I'm one of those creepy "torture Sherlock" kinds of people...but only in stories! ^_^ So yes this chap'll be depressing, but that's what Horror stories are all about! I want to thank ALL who reviewed! You people are so cool! Oh yeah.Hank? I know my writing is kinda crazy but I'm like one of those Stephen King fans and there is no boundaries when he's writing! I'm kinda adding to the craziness of the story, but thanx for pointing that out. I'll try to make it less confusing! ZOEgirl Chick: I hope you got a review; I REALLY liked your story!
Enough talk! Ch.3: The Memory
Sherlock Holmes opened his eyes and looked at the woman.
"Ghosts?"
Mrs. Knox continued cautiously.
"Y-yes sir. I know it sounds crazy but."
Amanda looked up, angrily.
"I am NOT crazy!"
Mrs. Knox tried to calm her little girl but she broke free of her grasp and ran up to Holmes, grabbing his hand.
"I'm not crazy, I'm..."
She gasped and drew away from Holmes with fear in her eyes. She acted as though Holmes' touch had hurt her.
Holmes looked at her questioningly, surprised by her sudden outburst. Her mother knelt down close to her.
"Amanda? Amanda, honey, what's wrong?"
Amanda looked at Holmes with wide eyes and said with a voice barely above a whisper,
"You're one of them...."
The mother suddenly looked as frightened as her daughter.
"W-what?"
Surprisingly, Amanda then smiled. She cautiously walked towards Holmes, studying him, as if to determine whether or not he was dangerous. Looking satisfied, she smiled yet again.
"Now you'll have to believe me!"
My friend, Sherlock Holmes, was always kind and patient with the children I have seen him near, and this child was no exception.
Holmes knelt down to her level and looked at her with pity in his eyes.
"When did you start seeing them?"
I was surprised at the question. Holmes sounded so sincere, as if he believed her. I expected an explanation of some sort, stating it was only her imagination or that ghosts definitely are not and never were real.
A look of sadness swept across her face as she looked up at Holmes.
"It was....after my daddy died."
Holmes placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. He looked as though he fully understood what she was going through. He then stood up, looking at the mother, and to my utter amazement he accepted the case. The mother was overjoyed.
"Oh, thank you Mr. Holmes, but are you sure...? I mean you haven't even heard what has happened. Not that I don't appreciate this, I do, but...."
Holmes interrupted her, "Don't worry,"
He looked down at the girl.
"I'm sure."
* * *
After the two had left I turned to Holmes. There were questions that needed answering.
"Holmes, why in the world did you accept that case? You don't believe in that nonsense."
Holmes looked around nervously, as if searching for an answer.
"Watson, that girl...she needs someone to help her."
"But how....how do you plan on solving this?"
".....I don't know Watson. I don't know."
I could see Holmes was exhausted with all this new information so, even though I had many more questions, I said goodnight and left him alone with his thoughts.
* * *
With Watson gone, Holmes was able to collect his thoughts and without wanting to, he started to remember.
The house was huge, almost like a mansion. There was a garden and a stable. Sherlock smiled. So this was to be his new home. He looked across the carriage to his mother and father. They looked so.happy together. They smiled as Sherlock kept peeking his head out of the carriage. It was a shame Mycroft and Sherrinford weren't able to accompany them. They had stayed behind, finishing the rest of the packing.
Sherlock was always a different little boy. While others his age were playing ball, he was obsessed with the mysteries of death and the criminal mind. He didn't mind anything frightening he rather liked it. Perhaps that's why he remembered the song. He first heard it sung by his mother. It was a sad little song, but for some reason he liked it. It was hauntingly beautiful. He started to sing while looking towards the house.
* Here we go, *
* The world is spinning. *
*When it stops, *
* It's just beginning. *
* Sun comes up, *
* We laugh and we cry. *
* Sun goes down, *
* And then we all die. *
Holmes' mother was a very beautiful woman with long raven-black hair.
His father was a sharp-featured yet handsome man with very dark brown
hair. Although much of Sherlock's face was like his father, he had the
heart and mind of his mother, always kind, yet always curious. He smiled
at his parents. He loved them so much his life was perfect.
And then it all came crashing down.
Sherlock couldn't remember exactly what happened. He remembered the
carriage shaking for some reason. He was scared. He couldn't see his
parents he couldn't see anything. Then there was a sudden jolt. His head
came forward, hitting the side of the door, and knocking him unconscious.
When he woke it was dark. The horses which took them there were gone and
the carriage the horses led was in pieces. Sherlock looked about him,
searching for his parents. If he made it then surely they were fine as
well.
The little boy looked all around what he thought was the center of the
accident. He then looked up the road to the house.
He saw a man, a man standing in the middle of the road. He was tall with
an old soldier uniform on, complete with a hat. The boy ran up to the
man, in tears, begging for help in finding his parents.
The man just stood there, staring as if the poor boy were invisible. He
then looked straight into his eyes and laughed. His laughter was cold,
almost haunting. The boy, seeing no help coming from the man, frantically
looked around the whole area. He found them. They were lying by the side
of the road.
He ran to them, away from the man's laughter. When he reached them he
suddenly felt a wave of coldness sweep over him. Something was wrong.
Sherlock looked back to the man, seeking some kind of help.
The man was gone.
The house caretaker witnessed the whole thing. He later said that
something had frightened the horses, causing them to bolt. The carriage
ran into a tree, leaving a huge cut. New Scotland Yard inspectors came,
with large uniforms and millions of questions. Sherlock was talking with
an Inspector....Lestrade? He couldn't remember. He didn't want to
remember. Everything was so confusing. Where were his mommy and daddy?
What had happened to them? Everyone he asked would look at him sadly,
silent.
It was only until afterwards when he realized it. Maybe because he didn't
want to believe it was true. He now knew, he would never see his mommy
and daddy again.....
Sherlock Holmes came back to the present day with the small droplets
of water sliding down his face. He shook his head, trying to forget. He
had to forget. He spun around as he heard someone come through the door.
It was Mrs. Hudson. She looked at him with sympathy in her eyes.
"Mr. Holmes, are you.....?"
Holmes quickly composed himself.
"Yes, Mrs. Hudson. I'm fine"
Embarrassed, Holmes quickly got up and retired to his rooms. Mrs. Hudson
looked on sadly. She sighed.
No child should have to go through what that poor boy had.
She remembered when they first met. The poor boy was frightened, alone.
She remembered hearing what had happened. Seeing his face, so full of
sadness. He would refrain from talking to anyone. He kept to himself.
Mrs. Hudson didn't know what would have happened had she not of taken him
in. The boy was all alone. He had needed her. She was glad that Holmes
had Watson to confide in. Yet even Dr. Watson hadn't learned of Holmes'
past. Mrs. Hudson looked towards Holmes' room.
Tonight would be hard for the detective.
* * *
Holmes lie in bed, trying to take his mind off his troubles. He grew
drowsy, and the horrible nightmares came to him yet again.
* * *
So? How do ya like it? I looked all over for a song that was creepy and
at the same time haunting. Then I saw the movie "The Ring" (know as
"Ringu" in Japan) I heard Samara sing it and it was perfect. She sings
part of it when she's standing by the well and all of it at the end of
the credits. For more info. Go to ring-themovie.com . Hmmm, I like that
movie. Well, gotta go! Happy haunting!
I hope you all liked the 2nd chapter cause this ones gonna be good! Or at least it'll be longer... I'm gonna be real mean in this chap so don't get upset, K? I have many theories on how Holmes lost his parents. The one you are about to encounter is one of them. I know.I'm evil but...I'm one of those creepy "torture Sherlock" kinds of people...but only in stories! ^_^ So yes this chap'll be depressing, but that's what Horror stories are all about! I want to thank ALL who reviewed! You people are so cool! Oh yeah.Hank? I know my writing is kinda crazy but I'm like one of those Stephen King fans and there is no boundaries when he's writing! I'm kinda adding to the craziness of the story, but thanx for pointing that out. I'll try to make it less confusing! ZOEgirl Chick: I hope you got a review; I REALLY liked your story!
Enough talk! Ch.3: The Memory
Sherlock Holmes opened his eyes and looked at the woman.
"Ghosts?"
Mrs. Knox continued cautiously.
"Y-yes sir. I know it sounds crazy but."
Amanda looked up, angrily.
"I am NOT crazy!"
Mrs. Knox tried to calm her little girl but she broke free of her grasp and ran up to Holmes, grabbing his hand.
"I'm not crazy, I'm..."
She gasped and drew away from Holmes with fear in her eyes. She acted as though Holmes' touch had hurt her.
Holmes looked at her questioningly, surprised by her sudden outburst. Her mother knelt down close to her.
"Amanda? Amanda, honey, what's wrong?"
Amanda looked at Holmes with wide eyes and said with a voice barely above a whisper,
"You're one of them...."
The mother suddenly looked as frightened as her daughter.
"W-what?"
Surprisingly, Amanda then smiled. She cautiously walked towards Holmes, studying him, as if to determine whether or not he was dangerous. Looking satisfied, she smiled yet again.
"Now you'll have to believe me!"
My friend, Sherlock Holmes, was always kind and patient with the children I have seen him near, and this child was no exception.
Holmes knelt down to her level and looked at her with pity in his eyes.
"When did you start seeing them?"
I was surprised at the question. Holmes sounded so sincere, as if he believed her. I expected an explanation of some sort, stating it was only her imagination or that ghosts definitely are not and never were real.
A look of sadness swept across her face as she looked up at Holmes.
"It was....after my daddy died."
Holmes placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. He looked as though he fully understood what she was going through. He then stood up, looking at the mother, and to my utter amazement he accepted the case. The mother was overjoyed.
"Oh, thank you Mr. Holmes, but are you sure...? I mean you haven't even heard what has happened. Not that I don't appreciate this, I do, but...."
Holmes interrupted her, "Don't worry,"
He looked down at the girl.
"I'm sure."
* * *
After the two had left I turned to Holmes. There were questions that needed answering.
"Holmes, why in the world did you accept that case? You don't believe in that nonsense."
Holmes looked around nervously, as if searching for an answer.
"Watson, that girl...she needs someone to help her."
"But how....how do you plan on solving this?"
".....I don't know Watson. I don't know."
I could see Holmes was exhausted with all this new information so, even though I had many more questions, I said goodnight and left him alone with his thoughts.
* * *
With Watson gone, Holmes was able to collect his thoughts and without wanting to, he started to remember.
The house was huge, almost like a mansion. There was a garden and a stable. Sherlock smiled. So this was to be his new home. He looked across the carriage to his mother and father. They looked so.happy together. They smiled as Sherlock kept peeking his head out of the carriage. It was a shame Mycroft and Sherrinford weren't able to accompany them. They had stayed behind, finishing the rest of the packing.
Sherlock was always a different little boy. While others his age were playing ball, he was obsessed with the mysteries of death and the criminal mind. He didn't mind anything frightening he rather liked it. Perhaps that's why he remembered the song. He first heard it sung by his mother. It was a sad little song, but for some reason he liked it. It was hauntingly beautiful. He started to sing while looking towards the house.
* Here we go, *
* The world is spinning. *
*When it stops, *
* It's just beginning. *
* Sun comes up, *
* We laugh and we cry. *
* Sun goes down, *
* And then we all die. *
Holmes' mother was a very beautiful woman with long raven-black hair.
His father was a sharp-featured yet handsome man with very dark brown
hair. Although much of Sherlock's face was like his father, he had the
heart and mind of his mother, always kind, yet always curious. He smiled
at his parents. He loved them so much his life was perfect.
And then it all came crashing down.
Sherlock couldn't remember exactly what happened. He remembered the
carriage shaking for some reason. He was scared. He couldn't see his
parents he couldn't see anything. Then there was a sudden jolt. His head
came forward, hitting the side of the door, and knocking him unconscious.
When he woke it was dark. The horses which took them there were gone and
the carriage the horses led was in pieces. Sherlock looked about him,
searching for his parents. If he made it then surely they were fine as
well.
The little boy looked all around what he thought was the center of the
accident. He then looked up the road to the house.
He saw a man, a man standing in the middle of the road. He was tall with
an old soldier uniform on, complete with a hat. The boy ran up to the
man, in tears, begging for help in finding his parents.
The man just stood there, staring as if the poor boy were invisible. He
then looked straight into his eyes and laughed. His laughter was cold,
almost haunting. The boy, seeing no help coming from the man, frantically
looked around the whole area. He found them. They were lying by the side
of the road.
He ran to them, away from the man's laughter. When he reached them he
suddenly felt a wave of coldness sweep over him. Something was wrong.
Sherlock looked back to the man, seeking some kind of help.
The man was gone.
The house caretaker witnessed the whole thing. He later said that
something had frightened the horses, causing them to bolt. The carriage
ran into a tree, leaving a huge cut. New Scotland Yard inspectors came,
with large uniforms and millions of questions. Sherlock was talking with
an Inspector....Lestrade? He couldn't remember. He didn't want to
remember. Everything was so confusing. Where were his mommy and daddy?
What had happened to them? Everyone he asked would look at him sadly,
silent.
It was only until afterwards when he realized it. Maybe because he didn't
want to believe it was true. He now knew, he would never see his mommy
and daddy again.....
Sherlock Holmes came back to the present day with the small droplets
of water sliding down his face. He shook his head, trying to forget. He
had to forget. He spun around as he heard someone come through the door.
It was Mrs. Hudson. She looked at him with sympathy in her eyes.
"Mr. Holmes, are you.....?"
Holmes quickly composed himself.
"Yes, Mrs. Hudson. I'm fine"
Embarrassed, Holmes quickly got up and retired to his rooms. Mrs. Hudson
looked on sadly. She sighed.
No child should have to go through what that poor boy had.
She remembered when they first met. The poor boy was frightened, alone.
She remembered hearing what had happened. Seeing his face, so full of
sadness. He would refrain from talking to anyone. He kept to himself.
Mrs. Hudson didn't know what would have happened had she not of taken him
in. The boy was all alone. He had needed her. She was glad that Holmes
had Watson to confide in. Yet even Dr. Watson hadn't learned of Holmes'
past. Mrs. Hudson looked towards Holmes' room.
Tonight would be hard for the detective.
* * *
Holmes lie in bed, trying to take his mind off his troubles. He grew
drowsy, and the horrible nightmares came to him yet again.
* * *
So? How do ya like it? I looked all over for a song that was creepy and
at the same time haunting. Then I saw the movie "The Ring" (know as
"Ringu" in Japan) I heard Samara sing it and it was perfect. She sings
part of it when she's standing by the well and all of it at the end of
the credits. For more info. Go to ring-themovie.com . Hmmm, I like that
movie. Well, gotta go! Happy haunting!