Haunted Holmes ➳ Sherlock x Reader

Perfect Pinstripe Suit

We were led into a, seemingly small, guestroom. There was little shards of shattered glass around some spots of the floor, as well as multiple male dead bodies. There were no female, and each looked to be in their late 30s, judging by a few facial features and their apparel.

Sherlock was crawling around the floor and investigating each body. There were about six, all new, none of the corpses were older than a week, though some had already started the rotting process.

I stood next to the client and watched Sherlock do his thing.

"How long have these bodies been here?" I asked him.

The question caught him by surprise, and he jumped a bit when I had asked.

"About a week." He answered.

"Why haven't you called the police?" I asked again.

"I'm not very...well...let's just say the police and I don't get along." He smiled hesitantly.

"What do you mean?" I looked at him with a confused expression.

"Well...I...how do I put it...?" He struggled.

"He's basically a wanted criminal." Sherlock said, before standing up and putting away his mini magnifying glass.

"Oh...okay." I nodded slowly.

"Find anything useful?" The man asked.

"These corpses cannot be older than a week due to the lack of rotting and scent, they are all men in their...hmm...I'd say late 30s going from apparel and multiple aging wrinkles their faces contain. These men were all working for the exact same man." Sherlock said quickly.

"Exact same man? Who's that." The client inquired again.

"Mycroft Holmes, of course. We're going to go pay him a visit for you tomorrow." Sherlock smiled.

"Oh...well what should I do with these dead bodies?" He asked.

"Take a picture of each, text it to me, then dispose of the bodies. Bury them or something, they will be of no use, nobody will look for them, they have no identity. I'll see you later then." Sherlock said, before taking my hand and walking out.

"Um...okay thanks for your help Sherlock Holmes!" He yelled out as we left.

"Don't forget our deal!" Sherlock yelled back, before hailing a cab.

We both got in a cab and I stared out the window on my side as Sherlock gave the cabbie an address that I didn't know.

"I know you have questions..." He sighed, as he rubbed his thumb against my knuckles.

"Yea...why are you making deals with criminals?" I asked.

He chuckled.

"He was in my homeless network, and one of the most helpful too. He knows how to obtain street talk or rumors about anything that I might find vital or useful." Sherlock said.

"I see. So are we going home?" I asked.

"Mm...not quite yet, dear." He said, cautiously looking out the window.

"Oh..." I said awkwardly.

"Stop." He told the cabbie, loudly, making the cab stop.

He handed the cabbie the change and got out of the cab dragging me with him by the hand which he held onto tightly as he ran down some alleyway.

"Sherlock!" I whispered loudly.

"What?" He asked in a whisper as well.

"Where are we going?" I asked, whilst trying to keep up.

"I'll explain later, but for now, take this." He said, stopping by a wall and quickly handing me a gun.

I held onto Sherlock's hand tightly, as he slowly attempted to walk away from the wall we had hidden behind.

"Don't..." I said to him. I didn't want him to leave me, I knew we were dealing with something dangerous.

"You're going to be fine. I promise." He said.

"I'm talking about you." I stared at him intently.

"Y/N...don't be scared...be excited. This is a criminal we're dealing with. I've dealt with many before, love. It's actually starting to get predictable." He smiled, before placing a kiss on my cheek and letting go of my hand.

"Thats rubbish. I'm going with you." I said, following behind.

"Y/N..." He started to say, finding it difficult to speak.

"Sherlock." I gave him a face.

"Stay close behind." He sighed, before continuing.

He slowly walked into the dark alley that carried a strong scent of car gas, and I followed behind.

There stood a tall man wearing a, what looked to be quite expensive, pinstripe suit. His hair a light blonde, complimenting his crimson-tinted, dark brown eyes.

I was so entranced at his perfection. It took me quite a while to realize that Sherlock and I had guns pointed to our heads.