May The Walls Run Red

A/N: Hi! This story was based on the cover images created be 'sonxfanchara' on deviantart, it is called 'Slayer', please check it out! I do not own anything but the story and the cover image belongs to sonxfanchara. Enjoy!!

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It was the Winter of 2014; Sherlock –and John- had nearly solved a Case. Men’s dead bodies had been turning up naked, bloody, bruised and showing obvious signs of Rape. But the thing that disturbed everyone the most was the fact that they were all missing enormous amounts of blood. It had taken a few hours for Sherlock to solve it, but when he did, he rushed back to the Flat he and John shared.

“John!” Sherlock exclaimed and burst into 221B Baker Street “I know where the murderer is!” He paused at the silence of the flat. 

“John?” he said, quietly. His eyes narrowed at the mess before him and as an unfamiliar scent filled his nostrils. He growled, someone had been in the flat. His eyes caught onto scratches on the floor and he kneeled over them, running a hand over them. 

Heel marks. Someone had been dragged across the floor. Weighed about 126 pounds, and were approximately 1.65 metres high. 

Sherlock’s eyes caught onto small specks of blood on the floor, he wiped a finger on it and placed it in his mouth. His head snapped up. The blood was fresh. No more than an hour. And the blood belonged to only one person.

John

He was out of the door before he even finished the thought.

~~~~~~ 

It had taken around half an hour to pick up John Watson’s scent. And then from there, finding the doctor was a walk through the park. Sherlock silently entered the empty building; John’s scent was stronger here. He was definitely in the right place. 

He crawled silently through the empty corridors, following his friends smell. He came across a room where light emitted from a single bulb on the ceiling. He had found John. He appeared to be talking with a man. Sherlock waited in the shadows for a few moments longer, curious on how this would turn out

“Just you wait…” John rasped, obviously in pain. 

Blow to the Head Sherlock assessed

“Sherlock will come for me” It touched Sherlock’s dead heart on how loyal his dear Army Doctor was. 

“Why are you so optimistic?” the man in front of John said harshly “Pathetic . You should not hold such hope when there is none.”

“S-Shut up…” John growled. His eyes snapped away from his doctor when the other man approached John. “Stay back!” he shouted and tugged at his bonds, drawing blood. Sherlock forced his nerves to calm and not jump onto John there and then. Why did the Doctor’s blood have to have such a divine flavour? He licked his lips, even now though, he could taste the drop of blood that he’s had at Baker Street. It lingered on his lips and he moaned. He needed more.

Sherlock snapped out of his thoughts when the man began to walk out of the room. Sherlock followed and the tall man walked into a separate room. Sherlock stood up straight and closed the door silently behind him. The man whirled and before he could blink, he was on his back with a silver dagger pressed against his throat.

“What the Hell?!” the murderer screeched

“You are a Vampire aren’t you?” Sherlock spat when there was no response; he pressed the dagger deeper “ANSWER ME!”

“I am!” the man in the floor squeaked “I’m a Vampire and I killed all those men!”

“You are sick” Sherlock growled. Before he pressed his face closer to his prisoner “No one touches John Watson. Do you understand me? He. Is. Mine” Sherlock hissed in the man’s ear

“I-I’m sorry! It w-won’t h-happen again!”

“No, it won’t.” Sherlock pressed the dagger deeper into the man’s throat. The murderer thrashed uselessly before lying still, his eyes were wide and his mouth was formed into a shape of an ‘O’

“Nobody touches John” Sherlock snarled and resisted the urge to spit on the body. Sherlock wiped the blood on the shirt of the body before tucking it away in his black jacket. He cleared his throat before getting out a bottle of oil and sprinkling it all over the corpse. He struck a match and then the body burst into flames.

“Let that be a lesson to you.” Sherlock muttered before turning and walking back towards the room John was being held in. 

He walked into the room and he saw John’s eyes widen

“S-Sherlock!” John exclaimed happily, he sounded like he was going to start crying there and then.

“Stay still” Sherlock said gently and undid the ropes. John stood up before Sherlock could have a taste of the blood across his wrist. The detective resisted the urge to moan in disappointment. Instead, he straightened 

“Let’s head home.” He said in the best Calm voice he could muster.

~~~~~~ 

The cab ride home was slightly awkward for John. He felt that Sherlock’s gaze was boring into his skull. He refused to shiver; instead, he rubbed gently on his sore wrists and sighed. Luckily they wouldn’t need bandages and they should heal within a few days. He sighed again when the Cab finally came to a halt outside 221 Baker Street. 

He got out of the car and waited patiently as Sherlock unlocked the door and let him be the first to go inside. John smiled slightly before walking up the stairs to their flat. He walked in and was welcomed by a mess of a sight. There were papers everywhere and a shattered mug on the floor. 

John moved to the end of the sofa –under the yellow smiley face- and picked up his laptop. He heard the floorboards creak behind him and the next thing John knew, he was being shoved against the wall of the flat, knocking the lamp over and dropping his laptop in the process.

“S-Sherlock?!” John shrieked and struggled against the taller man’s –surprisingly strong- grip. Who knew that Sherlock could have this amount of strength for his thin form. Sherlock’s eyes were filled with sadness.

“I’m sorry John… I… I can’t fight it anymore.” The sadness melted and was replaced with lust and insanity. He opened his mouth and John couldn’t stifle the gasp that escaped his lips when Sherlock’s teeth began to grow. They grew Deadly. John had to admit, for the first time, in a very long time, he was scared. No, Terrified!

“Sherlock! What’s wrong with you?! L-Let me go!” he gasped “I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Well” came a deep voice that couldn’t be Sherlock’s. It sounded so dark and it sent shivers down the blonde’s spine.

“That makes this so much easier” Not-So-Sherlock’s voice purred. John froze as he felt Sherlock’s breath on his neck and dark curls brush his cold cheek. John began to squirm.

“Sh-Sherlock, you’ve lost it!” he shouted and the other man chuckled at John’s fatal attempts to escape. John’s heart began to hammer against his chest and his breaths became hitched.

Suddenly, John’s vision turned red as Sherlock’s fangs bit down onto his neck and sank into the flesh. John couldn’t help it.

He Screamed