The Vampiric Mystery
Chapter Four: Death Threats
Watson had seen many dead bodies. As he had put it when he first met Sherlock, he had seen enough to 'last a lifetime'. Around Holmes, dead bodies were a regular sight and John had built a wall against the instinctive nausea that accompanied the sight of a dead body. This body was different however. The girl was only dead a little more than twenty-four hours but her skin had turned a strange blue shade. It was as if she had suffered from hypothermia before her death but Watson knew that, although she was pale, she had been a healthy enough colour when they had examined her earlier. Chances were that he was overlooking the simple fact that she had just been removed from her cold chamber but when tilted her head to examine the bite marks, the girl was somehow still warm.
"What in the name of God has happened to this body?" Watson exclaimed upon seeing the condition of the deceased girl.
Lestrade held his hands up as if fending off an attack.
"Don't bloody ask me! She was that way when we took her out. Blue as bloody sapphire when we took her out but you'd think she was sleeping by the feel of her. Even Molly is confused as to what's happening. That's not even the half of it though Doctor Watson. Watch this."
Lestrade gave a signal for one of the attending morticians to hover the crucifix chain over the girl, not quite touching her. For a moment, neither John nor Holmes saw what effect it had had but then the girl's right eye unmistakably twitched.
"BLOODY HELL SHE'S STILL ALIVE!" Watson exclaimed, jumping back a few feet.
"Don't be ridiculous John" Holmes chided "there's obviously a good explanation for that happening. It's just a shame that I haven't come up with it yet."
Holmes tucked his clasped hands under his chin once again and began pacing around the morgue. Watson couldn't shake the image of the girl's eye twitching from his mind. There had been accounts of eyes twitching or mouths opening and closing shortly after death but never more than an hour afterwards. The good doctor couldn't think clearly and he began to feel as if he were about to throw up.
"GOT IT!" Holmes cried out, his voice echoing through the morgue. "I must be feeling sick or something, that's twice the obvious option has eluded me."
Lestrade looked quizzically at John who simply shrugged. The 'obvious' option that Sherlock frequently referred to was usually one of the most obscure pieces of information that could be collected from a crime scene.
"It's paralysis. This girl isn't dead, she's paralysed. My god how could I have forgotten that?" He said, smacking himself on the head.
For the umpteenth time that day, Watson was shocked.
"Paralysed?" He hissed, not sure if he had correctly. "Holmes are you telling me that this woman is still alive?"
"Is that not what I just said? Did I not just say that? I think I just said that." Holmes said, looking around as if asking for confirmation from anyone. "Yes she's alive. The vampire clearly didn't kill her-"
Watson knew there was more but Lestrade cut across the great detective.
"Hang on! Did you just say vampire? What the hell have you been smoking Holmes? A vampire in London?"
"Look at the marks on her neck Lestrade. At first I didn't believe it myself, but after some research I was left with no doubt in my mind that the perpetrator was a vampire. Not only that but judging from the girl's general appearance, he's a vampire with refined taste. This girl is in the prime of her health. Or at least she looks like she is. She could be a raging alcoholic or drug addict or sex-crazed she-demon, the point is that his next victim will tell us just what his preferred main course is when feeding."
Watson would have laughed out loud at Lestrade's expression had it not been for the fact that they were in a morgue with an animate body. Lestrade had a mixture of disbelief and fear on his face, an expression that Watson had seen multiple times on multiple people. However he couldn't fault the reaction as he was fairly sure that he had reacted similarly when Holmes had proposed his theory to him mere hours ago. By all accounts, if Lestrade had nodded along and instantly believed Sherlock, Watson would have been shocked. However, it was such a ludicrous claim that both Watson and Lestrade knew that it had to be true. All Holmes really needed was the smallest of leads to go. Seconds later, he'd have it. Everyone, excluding Holmes of course, jumped out of their skin as a distorted, snake-like hiss came from the paralysed girl's lips. Her body began convulsing and her mouth began opening and closing as if she were trying to form words. When she finally spoke, her voice was raspy and low, almost like a reprimanding whisper that one would hear a mother use in Sunday Mass when her young child was climbing on the pew.
"Give up Mr. Holmes! Lord Mircea is awakening and his thirst for blood knows no bounds! Yes, I can see it now. You will die, wallowing in your own blood and the blood of your friends. Death is all you have to look forward to! HE WILL RISE AGAIN!"
By the time she was finished speaking, Lestrade had drawn his pistol and was aiming it at the point in between the girl's eyes. To John's surprise, Holmes was grinning broadly, his eyes wild with delight.
"Lestrade put down the gun!" Watson cried, fearing for the young girl's life. "Holmes what could you possibly be happy about after hearing that?"
"Simple John. We now know a lot more than we previously had known. For instance, we know that I am a prime target for this Lord Mircea. We also know that he will be targeting anyone who is close to me. So as long as we keep everyone we care for close by or thereabouts, we should be able to find this thing before anyone can get hurt. Of course there is always the option-"
Sherlock was cut off again by the 'paralysed' girl. This time however, she did not speak. Instead, she leapt to her feet, assumed a traditional hunter's crouch and pounced at the nearest one to her: Molly Hooper.
"NO!" Sherlock bellowed, his deep voice resonating through the morgue, sending chills down John's spine. He had never before heard such distress in the voice of the consulting detective. Although he clearly had no romantic feelings towards Molly Hooper (and she had certainly accepted that fact long ago, her husband Keith was testament to that), he did in fact see her as a very close personal friend. She was one of the only people that he trusted with his plan when Moriarty forced him to jump off of the Reichenbach building.
"Were you not warned Holmes?" The hissing voice came once more. "Did I not just tell you that we would strike at those closest to you? Did you think we would give you time to collect yourself? No Mr. Holmes. Mircea demands blood!"
With those words, the pale young girl wrenched Molly's head to the side and sunk her teeth, which Sherlock only now noticed perfectly matched the description of a vampire's tapered teeth, into Molly Hooper's neck. Almost immediately the colour drained from her face and she opened her mouth, as if to scream, but no sound came.
"GET OFF OF HER!" Holmes roared, the only one reacting to what was happening. Lunging forward, he seized the young girl by the neck and wrenched her off of Molly. He watched in horror as large amounts of blood sprayed from the wound on Molly's neck, droplets landing on the ground. Diving to his side, Sherlock caught Molly's body and held her close. Everything else suddenly became insignificant as he clutched the dying body of his old friend. He wasn't sure, but he thought he heard a body hit the wall nearby. It mattered not however. Molly Hooper was dying. He wasn't sure if anything would ever again. He felt tears roll down his cheeks and his lips quiver as he gazed down at her. Looking up at him with fading eyes, a pained smile tugged at Molly's lips. Pulling him close, she whispered the last words Holmes would ever hear her speak.
"Catch me a vampire Sherlock Holmes."
With that, she exhaled once more and went limp in Sherlock's arms.
Watson watched on grievously as his best friend sobbed uncontrollably, holding the body of Molly Hooper close to his own. It was one of the few times he had seen tears in Sherlock's eyes. Never before had John witnessed such sadness in anyone, even himself when he thought Sherlock had died. John was sure that even Mycroft would have felt something upon seeing his younger brother in this state. What happened next would have shattered the heart of anyone who witnessed it. Holmes gently lowered the body of Molly Hooper to the ground and clenched his fists, his hands shaking.
"I will see you suffer for this Mircea." He said his voice unusually calm. "If I have to give my own life to see it through, you will suffer. DO YOU HEAR ME MIRCEA?! YOU ARE GOING TO KNOW PAIN THAT YOU COULD NOT EVEN DREAM OF EXPERIENCING! I SHALL SEE TO IT THAT YOU BEG FOR DEATH BEFORE I AM FINISHED WITH YOU!"
Only once had John seen Sherlock even remotely this angry. In fact, he hadn't even been around to see it. He had thrown an American agent out of the window of 221B Baker Street for harming Mrs. Hudson. What was scary about this promise of Sherlock's was John knew he was deadly serious. Holmes would not stop until the Mircea character was writhing in agony at his feet, begging for death. He knew that nothing would ever or could ever stop Sherlock Holmes when he was driven by vengeance.
'Never thought I'd say this' John thought to himself 'but god help Lord Mircea. Because he has just pissed off Sherlock Holmes.'
So! Molly Hooper is now dead. Yes it's a shame but honestly you can't possibly say you did not see it coming after reading my summary. Holmes is now hell bent on seeing Mircea suffer and you can be assured that he will do his best to see it through. Until next time my friends! ~ An Inconvenient Arrival