April 28th, 1895
A week has passed. My first investigation went faster and more smoothly than I thought and Holmes' affection for his darling love could only increase. He came into my room one night and told me that it was impossible not to think of Emma in his sleep, and, because of that, he could not sleep.
"Every time I thought about her I couldn't prevent myself from thinking about gathering her in my arms. I really care about her Watson that I will give up my own life for her." He told me honestly.
"Lucky Emma," I thought, amused by Holmes' change
Now begins the story
That night the three of us assembled on the moor and began the investigation that has already started a week ago. I was investigating while I heard barks on the moor. Judging by the noise the dog was near.
Emma was horrified. Her eyes were fixed upon Holmes as if he was her only shelter in this dangerous situation. Holmes, confused, looked at me. As an answer I pointed at the dog, barking just behind Emma.
Holmes nodded and ran towards her. Emma seemed to be relaxed, and took hold of Holmes' hands, which were outstretched in front of her. Her eyes filled with gratitude.
The noise seemed to be approaching Emma. And suddenly she screamed in fright-
An enormous hound, whose head reached Emma's waist, was just in front of her. Its eyes shined and inside them I could see all that a kind-hearted man hate: evil, threat, ugliness, hatred, etc.
Holmes saw all this as well, and to protect her he hold her against his heart with one of his arms, while the other reached for his gun. He took it out, but the dog was not afraid of him; it was behind Emma. It was puffing and, finally, jumped on to Emma.
Holmes approached rapidly towards the animal and pushed it on its side, which made it turn its attention towards Holmes. It was now the detective who was in danger.
Holmes was as calm as usual. He pointed his revolver at the hound and fired, but failed. The bullet dropped beside Emma and made the whole thing even worse: the animal ran towards Emma, convinced that she was not armed. Holmes took Emma's hand and escaped with her towards the house. During his absence I fired and the animal, hurt on its side, groaned disagreeably. Holmes took his chance and fired. The bullet hit its stomach: it dropped dead.
Emma took a deep breath, and, looking at Holmes, she said: "Thank you so much, Mr Holmes, for saving my life."
Holmes, obviously trying his best to look into her eyes, replied: "It is my pleasure to do such a thing, Miss Bentley."
A/N: So?REVIEWS?