Sempiternal Bloodlust

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: The following is a fan based work of fiction that combines elements from the anime Tokyo Ghoul and characters from the show, Sherlock. Neither of which belong to me, but to their respective owners. If you like what you're reading, be sure to leave a vote and a comment.

"So another ghoul related incident I'm guessing. Off to the crime scene then?" He asked. Sherlock simply pulled his jacket onto his body and pulled his phone out of one of the pockets, checking the time.

"Right now, no. Lestrade and Donovan are in a press conference with the media hounds and won't be finished until later. This case is being looked at by another detective inspector who I don't care to meet. So for the time being, we have the morning off". He said. Despite hearing this, John furrowed his brow at the sight of Sherlock's coat.

"So then why are you dressed to go out?" Asked John. Sherlock simply deposited his phone back into his pocket and looked back at the TV despite it's lack of sound. John was also dressed to go outside, but he was under the assumption that it was for the sake of a case.

"Because right now, I'm going off to St. Bart's to see if Molly has anymore corpses for me to look into". He said. With this in mind, John turned off the TV and moved to grab his own jacket. As he placed it on his shoulders, his flat mate stared at him quizzically. "What are you doing?" Asked Sherlock.

"Well, I'm going with you. Can't stay cooped up in here forever. Besides, I could use the exercise for my limp". He said. Sherlock knew that it'd be pointless arguing with the former soldier, so he turned on his heels, and made for the door to leave the flat, with John in tow. The taxi ride to St. Bart's felt longer than it should have, with a pregnant silence engulfing the car. Sherlock appeared to be within the confines of his mind palace, leaving John with his own thoughts. As the taxi stopped at a red light, John took the time to look out the window and really survey his surroundings.

A café that was bustling with business as people filled the inside and outside seats. A school that had an ocean of kids coming in, ready to start their day. And a grocery store that at was open for business. Even if the city was now a feeding ground for an entire species of ravenous beasts, John wanted to hold on to the fleeting idea that London was no better than it was before the ghouls appeared, thinking back to the conversation that he had with Sherlock, not to mention his time as a military doctor, even if they hardly seemed related. Anyone optimistic enough would argue that in a year, or so the ghouls would disappear from the earth, and be a story for the history books. But John didn't have the privilege of calling himself optimistic. Before long, the two of them made their way into St Barts. and straight down to the morgue to see Molly.

Walking down the long hallway, John took note of how many CCG officers were around, interviewing grieving families about their deceased kin. The aura that they carried about them was almost as intense as their dark trench coats. And especially the briefcases that they carried with them, no doubt containing their quinques. Just about the only thing that could kill a ghoul was the kagune of another ghoul, thus leading to the harvesting of ghoul corpses after they've been killed, for the soul purpose of detaching their weapons from their bodies, killing and harvesting other ghouls for their own kagunes, and repeating the cycle all over again. The corpses were just as messy as a human death, but so long as it was one more ghoul wiped off the earth, no one really cared. All it was, was further justification for Sherlock's previous statement about the cruelty that this world dishes out for both species. John was quick to come out of his reverie once he and Sherlock approached the elevator. Since the ride down was a short one, Sherlock choose now to speak.

"Can you not do that so loud, it's deafening". He said. John looked at him quizzically before he took a moment to catch on to what he was referring to. In the time that they've been flat mates, John managed to pick up on certain quirks and habits that Sherlock was accustomed to doing, no matter how unpredictable, or much of a high functioning sociopath he claimed to be. His favorite one was to comment on how loud John's thinking was, whatever that was supposed to mean. The more that it came up, the more John was able to call his flat mate out on it, just the same. This was one of those times. John rolled his eyes in exasperation before responding.