Eyes snapped open, blinking away the residue of unconsciousness. John Watson gasped and bolted into an upright position as the occasion of last night rushed into his mind. He frowned as his bedroom came into focus.
Shouldn’t I be dead?
He threw the covers –which had been practically cocooned around his body- over his head and sprinted in front of the mirror in his bathroom. Immediately he was checking his neck where Sherlock’s fangs had penetrated. He froze completely. There was nothing. The skin was smooth and showed no evidence of the events that had taken place the evening before. They should have been there! His thoughts were disrupted as the sound of a violin playing filled his ears.
No, that was impossible
He would have been mesmerised with the notes if it were not for the one playing it. Slowly, and very cautiously, he walked out of his bathroom, his room and down the stairs. John winced as a loud creak echoed around the flat. The Violin stopped and John froze, paralyzed to the spot. It felt like years before the blonde heard the smooth, and somehow unsettling, sound of the instrument again. He let out a breath he never knew he was holding and continued his journey down the final few stairs.
He entered the living room and paused at the sight before him. Sherlock stood, back facing the doctor, violin in hand and dressing gown hung loosely on his wiry frame. John shook his head in disbelief and stepped backwards.
Sherlock is dead, I shot him. I shot him
His feet tangled with something, causing him to tumble backwards and land on the floor with a loud thump. His breath hitched in his throat.
The Violin stopped playing.
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May The Walls Run Red
FanfictionSherlock Holmes is a Vampire and he has a lust towards his flatmate, John Watson, but holds himself back. After a Case, he can't any longer. John is terrified of the situation and he shoots Sherlock, seeing it as the only option. The last thing he s...
