Watson's Woes July 2023

by Pompey

It's been over a decade, but this is the last Watson's Woes JWP (a month-long marathon of writing prompts aiming to whump Watson in any genre, any 'verse, any level/lack of seriousness.) It's been an awesome ride. Thank you for coming along with me for one last go-around!

1. July 1 - Chemical Warfare

Title: Chemical Warfare

Author: Pompey

Universe: ACD-ish

Rating: PG

Warnings: none?

Word count: 350

Summary: Holmes and Watson uncover a major danger to London

Prompt: July 1 – What's going on here? (pic prompt)

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I had anticipated that searching the disused underground sewers would be unpleasant on principle. Certainly I was prepared for an assault upon the senses, particular the olfactory one. As Holmes and I walked, however, the organic stink of our surroundings changed slowly into one more chemical – though equally foul – in nature.

I looked to Holmes to comment but his face had tightened into a mask of grim determination. "Do you recognize the smell?" I asked instead.

In response, he nodded tightly and pressed a finger to his lips. A moment later, I heard faint voices coming from ahead of us and saw faintly flickering lights. We slowed our pace and I fell behind him so as to walk single file, pressing closely to the wall. All the while the unpleasant chemical smell grew stronger, and rather garlic-like, to the point that a headache began to throb at my temples.

At last we came to a curve in the tunnel and a doorway of sorts. Yellow lantern light poured from it. Holmes gestured for me to stop while he peered into the next tunnel. A minute later he turned back to me and angled his head towards the direction we had come from.

I turned around and began walking back as silently as I could but Holmes darted around me and set a pace I was hard-pressed to match. We did not slow until at last the sound of voices faded away. It was only then that I dared ask my friend what he had seen.

"An undertaking that I fear threatens the very seat of English government," Holmes replied quietly. "You noted that wretched odor? It is the smell of unpurified carbon disulfide and white phosphorous together."

I stopped abruptly, suddenly understanding the danger we faced. "Fenian fire," I breathed in horror.

Holmes nodded at me over his shoulder but continued walking. I quickly followed suit. "We haven't a moment to waste. There are at least two dozen arsonists hard at work as we speak. The scale of their production could produce enough incendiary material to raze half of London."