No excuse for the lateness of this chapter. I am back though. Chapters will-if you like-appear every week. Thank you to all my reviewers. Please, let me know truthfully what you think of this work.
You peek over the bush.
Beyond you, is the slumped form of Dr. John H. Watson.
The dogs, now lying, have relaxed. The largest dog has placed its head upon his paws. The youngest is alert. It sniffs the air. Smelling you, it's tail begins to beat the ground, raising thin clouds of dust.
When you were just a little thing, you chose this spot. When you found it, children would run through the grass and climb the trees.
But you wanted it for your own.
One of the many things your father taught you was how to make your voice seem as if it was standing beneath, above, behind and away from you.
So, one day, you climbed the largest tree here. You sat for hours. Every time another child would appear, you would moan. Or laugh. Or even scream.
It took time. But soon, soon the children were terrified of your spot. They would cry when their mothers would take them to the place. Even threats from their fathers, even beatings would not convince them to walk in the park. Soon, your park became legend. The bravest and oldest boys would climb down windows in the blackness. They would point and push. They would bribe.
But no child ever strayed into your place.
Not a one.
So it was the perfect place for destruction.
The perfect place for death.
What was even more perfect? The fact that Sherlock Holmes had walked by this very park twice.
Twice.
Twice he had walked by as his friend struggled.
And now, whatever had become of his friend?
The dogs know you. They know you brought food.
And so, you stand. You climb over the bush. You walk towards your dogs. You want to whistle.
You want to whistle because a slumped body means an injured body.
When you reach Dr. John. H. Watson, you sniff. You lower your head like the dogs you care for.
And you sniff.
The pool of blood beneath the body is very fresh. It is very large.
You toss the scraps of meat to the three animals. You have trained them very well. They do not fight. They each take a portion, turn and eat. You are very proud of this.
You are also very proud of the form beneath your feet.
For it still breaths.