I don't own Sherlock despite my many attempts to. I will keep you updated on this.
Sorry for the loooonng break in updates and it's only a short one this time. I had an awful case of writers block mixed with extreme procrastination.
Werewolves were boring. So predictable. Especially ones like Sebastian Wilkes.
Sebastian Wilkes outwardly looked like a City of London banker. He had a wife and two children at home. But he was a werewolf. Not any werewolf, the leader of the City of London pack. It was not the biggest pack in London but it was the cleverest, the richest and the most powerful. They also had a deep and dangerous rivalry with the Battersea Power Station vampire Coven. That's why Sherlock was there.
Yet another fight had resulted in a mundane injured. Sherlock had been sent down as a warning. Or a peace maker, officially. But everyone knew it was a warning.
As Sebastian droned on about peace treaties, territory agreements and repayments Sherlocks mind drifted. It eventually settled on the topic that had been bugging him for four months now. John Hamish Watson.
John Hamish Watson was an enigma that Sherlock couldn't get his mind around. The percentage of people who could see through glamours was around 0.001% but still John had ended up outside the Institute of all places. It could have just been a coincidence, like Mycroft and Greg had told him it was, but Sherlock did not believe in coincidences.
His rapid train of thoughts was interrupted by a girl poking her head round the door. Fifteen, werewolf, quite smart. Relatively pretty Sherlock supposed. Just come back from an Indian restaurant, judging by the smell on her clothes and the lines on her hands from carrier bags. Probably getting lunch for the pack. He had passed a takeaway on the way here. She was worried about something Sherlock noted as he examined her face.
"I'm sorry to interrupt but I have some important information." She spoke nervously, obviously not wanting to be there. Sebastian nodded and said, " Spit it out then Molly. " The girl bit her lip and glanced pointedly at Sherlock who raised an eyebrow at her in return. "Anything that you need to say to me can also be said to Sherlock." Said Sebastian sternly. Molly nodded then nervously blurted out, "There's been another attack, this time it's a boy called Michael Stamford. Up in Wimbledon." Sebastian nodded in dismissal and Molly left the room.
"I'm sorry, but can we finish off this conversation another time? I must go and look into this," he said graciously rising from the chair. Sherlock stood up to join him and nodded unceremoniously. They shook hands and Sebastian departed. As Sherlock made to leave he saw Molly standing by the door.
"Why is it so urgent that he go and check out this attack?" He asked her quietly. She looked up at him, her hazel eyes wide. "Didn't you know? There have been a whole load of strange serial killings all around London. Someone just drops dead, in front of a crowd and when the body is examined they find these markings on their backs. Look like this," Molly grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil from the desk and started sketching.
"They're all exactly the same," she continued, "These lines. Exactly the same width but different lengths. And they all start at the shoulder blades." Sherlock stepped forwards to look. Molly's sketch was a rough outline of a human back with sharp, thin lines radiating out from the shoulder blades almost like, "Wings." he said. Molly nodded. The lines were clearly shaped like a pair of angel wings folded across the victims back. "There are never any other bruises or marks on the skin, no poisons or anything. Just these. It's almost like their hearts just randomly stopped."
Sherlock bit the inside of his lip and nodded, staring down at Molly's drawing. Swiftly he picked it up and folded it in half. "You mind if I keep this?" He asked Molly who was staring up at him wide-eyed. "Not at all," she said quickly, smiling shyly. Sherlock put it carefully inside his coat pocket and pulled out his phone. As he walked away from Molly he dialled Mycroft. "Get up to Wimbledon now, there's been a murder I need to take a look at."
As always reviews appreciated and thanks for reading!