Definition of Humanity

The Escape

We all stopped and stared at this girl. She was wearing some sort of uniform, with an eagle logo on the shoulder. But most of all was her wings, they had to have a wingspan of at least 8 feet. There was a pistol on her hip, along with a small knife hidden away. And the wolf noticed something else about her: she smelled of the terragen, which had a sickeningly sweet scent.

She was one of us: immortal, invincible, Inhuman.

Lestrade was clearly disturbed by the fact that Sherlock Homes has an apparently little sister who works for some organization, as was apparent by the logo on her uniform, saying, "What the heck is going on here? First John, then Violet, and now this!" She responded with, "My name is Agent Emma Holmes. We recieved a distress call from this location," She looked around. "And with good reason. Sorry to see what happened to you, Dr. Watson. Most of us have a chance to prepare for the change. It can be quite... dramatic." Moriarty rolled his eyes, which then turned to an amber color. "Oh, enough with the family reunion. Let's get down to business."

And with that, he signaled for an apparent fighter to join him. The new man was tall, muscular, a stark comparison to the slight girl opposite him. He had wings as well, which were a deep, inky black. They were missing feathers and scarred- clear signs of his lifestyle. Without, warning, he lunged for her, and Moriarty dartet-or rather, flew- out of sight.

She darted out of the way, almost floating. They did not use guns or knives, but fought hand-to-hand. They seemed to dance, although through my now sharpened eyes I can see the fists flying, the tactics of searching for a weak point while protecting their own. He seemed to use his size as an advantage over her, attempting to overpower her while ignoring the strategy. He was careless, and as soon as she caught wind of that (about five seconds in), she slammed him onto the ground, knocking him out cold. Looking up, she saw more of Moriarty's men gathered to fight. "Anyone else?" She asked, confident. 

They ran, and I laughed-or, at least, barked a sort of laugh. Sherlock checked the time; his watch read 2:30 A.M. Emma piped up and said to us (most of which have been simply watching these events unfold), "Well, are you just going to stand there or get the heck out of here?" We chose the latter, and followed her through the winding passages. The wolf enjoyed this little running stretch, and I used it to test this new form. 

     I quickly found that four legs were much better than two, mostly because I could not walk on two legs like this. Second, I was fast. Really fast. I darted in between the people, working my way up to alongside Emma. The wolf has a little competitive side, as it kept wanting to dart ahead of her. I knew I had to do something to keep that from happening, and slowed down enough so that Mary and Violet could reach me. I stayed with them, the wolf now refusing to leave their side. I let it have complete control at that moment, now trusting it with my family. I felt my thoughts change, using less logic and reason, The wolf did not care of such things. It was intelligent, yes, but it also lived in the moment. It didn't worry or stress over things, it just focused on the here and now. As my mind melded with the wolf's, I began to see it as a part of me, not separate. It was indescribable. I was free. 

This relaxing moment was abruptly ended with a wave of Moriarty's men converging on us. The wolf was now in control more than ever, taking over my legs and moving in front of Mary and Violet. All of us except me and the Holmes's slowed down, getting ahead of the rest. The wolf backed its ears, hair raising, ready to strike. It let loose a nasty growl, warning the men. But they did not heed its warning.

Bad mistake on their part.