"Listen, what I said before John, I meant it. I don't have friends; I've just got one."
- Sherlock

Chapter One:

"Sherlock?" John called helplessly, as he stumbled through the dark, thick forest. Heavy fog covered his surroundings, making it nearly impossible to see his hand in front of his face. "Sherlock!"

A few minutes had passed, and he heard no response. John was almost ready to give up, when suddenly a figure hit him in the chest, causing them both to fall down. Instinctively, John snapped out his hand gun that shined in the moonlight and pointed it at whatever was in front of him.

Even with the darkness, he was able to see a small, copper skinned girl, who looked no older than eight or nine. She rubbed her short, choppy, dark hair where he assumed was where she was hit. She wore raggedy old clothes that didn't look at all her size, but they didn't seem to bother her.

Finally, she looked up at him, her dark eyes filled with curiosity and... Fear? When the girl noticed that she was staring down the barrel of a gun, a shriek left her throat, and she scrambled back.

John blinked at the frightened girl, "Wha-?! Who are you?" He demanded, only causing her to whimper. He saw a dark silhouette of... He wasn't quite sure what they were. If he didn't know any better, he'd say they were wings.

But they couldn't have been. It was just his imagination, he told himself.

Suddenly, a soft, but audible howl riveted through the forest, and the girl sat up straighter, her eyes widening and she turned to the source. Not a second later, she scrambled to get up and swiftly ran away.

"W-Wait!" John shouted, going after the girl, but she seemed to disappear into the fog. Instead, he found Sherlock, who was equally wide eyed and shocked. "Sherlock? What's wrong?"

"It was the hellhound!" Henry Knight exclaimed frantically, "We saw it!"

John turned to his partner, "Sherlock?" He said, again, waiting for his answer.

Sherlock stared at him, John was surprised when he recognized fear in his eyes for a few seconds, before it disappeared and turned into slight anger, "Nothing. I saw nothing," he spat, walking away.

"Wha-What?" Henry stammered, "No, you saw it, we both saw it. Why... Are you joking? Tell me you saw it!" When he earned no reply, he turned to John, his voice increasing with barely withheld panic, "Why won't he say he saw it?"

"I-I don't know," he said with a hefty sigh. "Look, it's been a long night. How 'bout we head back to the house. I'm sure Sherlock'll have a answer in the morning." This was a blatant lie. Sherlock was scared, dare he say terrified, which was far different than his usual self-confidence and running mouth. How he would come up with a solution for a supposed 'hellhound' was far beyond him.

As the two walked back to Henry's flat, John's mind trailed back to the girl he saw. He hadn't heard anyone talk about a young girl 'haunting' the Dewey Hollows, so who exactly was she. He was certain that definitely did not see wings. It was just his imagination.

But... A small part of his him felt like they were very real.

|£|£|£|£|

So this is what flying felt like... She thought softly to herself as she felt the wind go through her dark wings as she soared through the air. Back in the School, they wouldn't let them go outside much, with the exception of testing their wings. She had never been able to go into the air like this and actually fly. It felt... Good.

She could see the sun peaking over the clouds, causing rays of multiple colors she had never seen before streak through the dark sky. She could only stare awe, having no words to describe the scene playing before her. She had never seen anything like it, she had never had the chance to see anything like it.

But, the moment was far too short lived when she saw something come from behind me. A large dark figure flew behind her, followed by a two others. Her eyes widened, she'd be able to spot their bulky figures and warped faces anywhere. They were Erasers.

She quickly dove, going towards the ground the Erasers following suit. A shot rang out, as she swerved through the air, barely dodging a lethal bullet.

She flew faster, forcing her wings to flap as fast as they could, but it wasn't enough to outfly the strong Erasers behind her. An Eraser caught up to her, grabbing its thick, clawed hands around her ankle. It snapped it's wings shut, falling to the ground, with her falling with it.

A loud scream escaped her mouth, as he clawed and hit at it's hand, shaking her leg while doing so. The air rushing through her body, making her hair fly madly around her, as she tried to fly away at the same time, but her wings couldn't support both of them. Salty tears escaped her eyes as they neared the ground, when suddenly, his grip loosened.

She gave her foot a good yank, just as they hit the trees beneath them. A mangled cry of terror escaped it's mouth as it hit the ground, no longer moving.

She fell through several branches, scratching her arms and drawing blood, but she was able to hang onto a particularly thick one. The branch creaked, nearly snapping under her weight. The other Erasers fell behind her as she let herself drop to the ground, in case the branch snapped under her. Both of the Erasers were twice her size and armed.

They glanced over at the dead Eraser, deep, low growls rumbling in their throats, and they glowered at her. They both jumped, arms outstretched and ready to strangle her. She sidestepped, letting them collide with each other, and then glare at her. One of them took out a gun, the other a jagged blade.

The one with the blade attacked, slashing at me, aiming for my chest. The other one was aiming at her, waiting for a good chance to shoot.

She grabbed tightly to the Eraser's muscled arm, just before it could stab her, and hit it over her knee. The sudden pain made the Eraser yelp and lose grip of his knife. I quickly snatched it and threw it up at the tree.

The Eraser quickly used his free hand to grab unto her throat, and pushed her against a tree. Oxygen quickly leaving her body as he bared his sharp teeth, his eyes growing with unleashed fury. He chomped down on her shoulder, making her scream. His sharp teeth easily cutting through tendons and nerves, causing a blinding pain to go through her body.

She shakily snatched the handgun off the waist of the Eraser with my other hand. She unclicked the safety and quickly shot him several times in the head.

The Eraser's hand on her neck loosened and a whimper escaped his mouth before he finally fell to the ground. She panted, greedily gasping in air. She heard the Eraser's heavy boots crunch on the dead leaves on the ground, and she looked up to see she was staring down at a gun, again.

He clicked it, and was about to shoot, but she quickly hit it with her good hand, making him shoot a bullet on the side of her thigh opposed to her head. She screamed in pain, as the Eraser moved it's gun again to shoot, but she was faster, using the one she got off the dead Eraser to shoot it in the chest.

His eyes widened and he stumbled back, he moved his gun to take another shot, but then the tree creaked overhead, and as if on cue, the thick branch fell, and landed directly on top of him.

The forest was a dead silent and she closed her eyes tightly, tears threatening to spill from them. Instead, she took a shuddering breath, and slowly tried to get up.

Pain shot through her leg and shoulders, but she bit down on her lip to keep herself from shouting. Several minutes passed and a blood was still coming out of her leg and shoulder, but she was able to get back up. Putting her weight on her good leg, she held onto the tree, she forced her wings to carry her away.

Every time she had moved her leg or arm, pain went rocketed through her body. A sob rose in her throat, but she kept flying. Get out of here, she told herself. Leave. Find a place to hide.

And so she did. She forced her wings to fly, faster and farther away, and into the dawn. She noticed that the multicolored streaks of sky had now morphed into a a morbid blood red.

|£|£|£|£|

By the time she realized she had been losing too much blood, it was too late.

It was night now, she could see the moon glowing brightly in the sky. She had been flying at a slow pace all day. Her wings were beginning to droop slightly with exhaustion from not taking even a single break. She was overhead a large city that was a very loud and colorful, but the bright colors were beginning to blend together. She couldn't tell left from right. Her head hurt from all the loud noises that seemed to amplify in her ears.

Sleep. She needs sleep. She needs to rest, she told herself. Rest. Go to sleep. Sleep...

Her wings curled in as she dropped out of the sky, and her eyes fluttered closed. A loud honking noise made her eyes snap back open. She was falling into the city!

Before she could hit one of the moving things on the ground, she straightened her wings, and instead crash landed on top of a building.

She choked back a sob as her body made contact with the solid concrete, the closing wound in her shoulder and leg reopening and more blood spilling out.

She grounded my teeth together to keep her from shouting out and she panted heavily. She's okay, she's okay, she told herself, glancing around for any type of shelter that could possible cover her.

The roof was practically empty, except for a small latch on near the side. She shakily stood up, trying desperately not to put any weight on her hurt leg, as she hobbled over to the latch, and pulled it open.

Much to her luck, it was unlocked, allowing her to slip through and land on a small flight of stairs. She softly closed the square door behind her, and hoped down the few steps.

The first door she found had the numbers '221A' displayed on the center. She tried the knob, only to find it locked. She sighed in disappointment, going down another flight of steps, and found another door this one said '221B'.

She tried the knob, and the door slowly creaked open. A small smile fell on her lips, as she quietly entered the room, shutting the door behind her.

It was dark, but light from the windows filtered through the curtains, so she was able to see a very cluttered room, by the look of it, at least. There was things all over the table and floors, that she wasn't able to describe.

The room also smelt sharply of chemicals, and... Whitecoats, which made her stomach churn, but she fought the urge to run out of the room. She had no more energy to fly. She had to stay here, at least until she could leave again.

She slowly walked down the hall, gingerly favouring her good leg, spotting a door that was halfway opened and revealed a white bed and pillow. Excitement filled through her, as she rushed to the room, being extra careful not to mess up her bleeding leg more than it already was, and laid in the bed. There was no covers, but she didn't mind the cold, seeing she never had one when she was in her cage.

Exhaustion seemed to consume her as she slowly drifted off to sleep.

|£|£|£|£|£|£|£|£|£|£|£|£|£|£|£|£|£|

Edited: 1/3/17