SHERLOCK - A Game Of Blood

Chapter one

Early in the morning John Watson sat alone by himself in the living room. Concentrated he tried to read the headline of the newspaper. He failed. The reason? He was worried about his roomate and friend, which he already knew a while. His name was Sherlock Holmes and he had pretty bad habits. Besides smoking, he often used to lay on his couch in a comatose state. With milky eyes, he is not looking at anything specific. Usually he is not moving for a week or less.

Sherlock does this when he was bored. When he has no cases. Nothing to solve.

And the whole last week he did exactly this. John tried not to disturb him, so he often went out. But John was afraid. Afraid that Sherlock took drugs again, when he was outside. So John came to the conclusion to search for drugs. But he did not found anything. He decided to trust Sherlock and continue working on his blog.

And this morning Sherlock seemed to woke up, and left the flat. Sadly he did not left a note or told anything John or Mrs. Hudson.

You are an idiot, Sherlock. John said to himself. He knew one day he will regret working all by himself, without saying a word. To distract himself, John stand up for a walk. But before he could change his clothes, Sherlock stormed in the flat with a great smile on his face.
„John Watson, what a glory day to be alive!" Sweeping he made a pirouette.

„Bloody hell, Sherlock! Where have you been?" Angrily he glanced at Sherlock. But Sherlock did not stop smiling.

„Oh, dear Lord. Wrong question, John. Something with more importance happened! Grab your stuff! Time for a fly!"

Confused John looked at his roomate. Before he could ask, what the hell Sherlock was talking about, a young woman with hazel coloured hair walked in.

„Our new case, John." He pointed at her.

„Actually, this is a woman, Sherlock."He responsed.

The midmorning startet when everyone took a seat. John changed his pyjama with pants and a warm, grey pullover. John noticed the woman had a pretty pale skin tone, with dark circles under her eyes.

Sherlock started the conversation:" Please, repeat what happened, for my roomate."

The woman glanced at John. „But why? Who ist that?"

„Oh, you know, just a stranger I picked up, from the street. And now tell the story!" Sherlock said.

„Sherlock, please...," John said" I'm John Watson."

„Of course, the blogger! I should have known." She respond. Nervously she folded her hands.

„Well, my, my name is Maria Storman and I am from-„

„-America and you live in Forks. Now continue with the important facts." Said Sherlock.

„Yeah...right," She agreed. „The last months, people were murdered in Forks and in Seattle. Actually nothing special, but the cases have something in common. None of the corpses had any blood left. And they all have a wound on their body in form of a bite. And the police could'nt find the murderer yet. And, and," She started sobbing "I never cared about this. But, but,but" Her hands started shaking. „My husband was murdered three weeks ago. The same..." She started crying. Tears floated down her face.

„Oh god." Sherlock whispered.

Maria dried her tears with her sleeve.

„And then I heard about you. First I rode Dr. Watsons Blog and then the newspapers said something of the world greatest detetive. And I hope, you can solve this murder, and bring this motherfucker...sorry, to jail, where he belongs to."

„What do you think, Mr. Watson?" Sherlock grinned.

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Friendly reminder. Ok, this is no reminder because I never said it, but this story takes place in the second season of Sherlock.