(Sherlock’s POV: )

Knocking. Infernal, annoying, dreadful knocking. The doorbell was broken again, so people would not stop knocking.

“John!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. When he didn’t answer I took a deep breath and shouted for my blogger again. “Joooohnnn!!” I heard his door swing open violently and him come stomping down the stairs.

“What, Sherlock!?” He demanded angrily. His hair was sticking up in every possible direction and he was only in a plain white T-shirt and some plaid boxers.

“Door.” I said simply. He blinked in surprise at me, his fists clenched.

“What? Sherlock, it’s bloody three in the morning!” He growled through gritted teeth. The door knocked again and I looked at him pointedly. He sighed, held in profanities and stomped down the stairs. I heard him open the door and some quiet words were exchanged. Soft, light footsteps (which could only belong to a female) followed John’s heavy, tired ones up the stairs and I sat up straight in anticipation.

As I expected, John led a young woman in. She was fairly young, in her early twenties judging by the wear on her hands and lack of it on her face. Her skin was dark, not African dark. Most likely Indian or possibly Asian. Based on her facial and body structure, Asian was looking good. She was tall- very tall. Taller than John but still shorter than me. Her eyes were a dark brown that looked black and her hair was the same. Asian confirmed. She wore a lot of black. Her pleated skirt was black and her button-up shirt was a dark shade of grey. Her fingernails were painted black and her mid-thigh boots were black. I liked her already.

She held herself proudly and she considered herself intelligent. I would test that. I couldn’t see her name anywhere unfortunately, so I would have to ask. How degrading.

John offered her a seat on the couch, but she politely refused and instead stood by the desk. John sat down, though, being considerably tired.

“Hello.” She began, quite simply and with a thick London accent. “I apologize for coming at such an ungodly hour, but this is quite important.” She spoke politely and confidently, which I admired. “My life is being threatened. You probably hear this all the time, but I would not like to be murdered for my blood.” She paused there to gauge our reactions. John was half asleep, but I, however, was interested. I didn’t dare show it, though. “Oh! And my name is Rachelle Rider.” She added, sounding as though she had forgotten.

“Pleasure to meet you, Rachelle.” I said dryly. She smiled faintly before continuing.

“My sister got herself in some trouble with some men a while back. I don’t know the exact details but they weren’t just some blokes looking for a good time. They kidnapped my sister and held her hostage for a week. We don’t know what happened, but she was found on the street with a lot of lost blood. She wouldn’t speak at all for a while, and when she did, it was only to ask for food and such. She never spoke of the kidnapping. When I got her alone she told me that they had warned her to not tell anyone, otherwise they would come after my family. I know it sounds cliché but it’s true, and these men were dangerous. So I did some poking around the city and some police files, looking for anything about kidnappers who released their hostages with lost blood. I found a couple things. One from an orphaned boy and the other from an unfinished police report. The boy said that his sister was taken, and when she was returned that she had answered the police’s questions. Two weeks after that, his mum was killed, and then his dad. He was the only one left, and the police had put him in the orphanage under special surveillance.

“The police report was a little bit more helpful. It gave me an autopsy of the victim. A girl –aged fourteen- was killed on the streets by loss of blood. She had puncture marks on her arms and neck, suggesting syringes, and she had deep cuts on her stomach and thighs. She had also been strangled. According to the actual written report, she had been attacked by three men –seemingly at random- and killed quickly. The only family she had was a father, but he went into a deep depression and, after attempting suicide, was put into an asylum. There were several reports of the same nature. The murder I mean. All young females and all killed in the same way.

“People keep drilling my sister to answer questions, and she isn’t doing so well. I would like you to figure who these men are and get them out of the picture so that my sister can be at peace and so that girls will no longer be in danger.”

I stared at her, deep in thought. It sounded fairly interesting, and she wasn’t lying. Plus she somehow got a hold of police files and reports. I liked her.

“I’ll take it.” I said flatly, hiding my excitement. She beamed.

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes! I’ll see you tomorrow.” She thanked, smiling and speaking quietly to not wake the sleeping doctor, who lay lightly snoring on the sofa. I nodded as she exited. As soon as the downstairs door closed, I got a text.

                “I’ll meet you downstairs at 10 AM tomorrow. Thank you for taking the case.

                .RR”

I smiled and put my mobile away. I covered John with a blanket and went to my room, locking myself in for the rest of the night.

In the morning -or what John would qualify as morning- I went into the den and shook John to wake him up. He moaned and tried to shove me away.

                “Go, Sherlock. We don’t have a case.” He mumbled.

                “Yes we do. Now get up and make yourself presentable.” I retorted, going and sitting in my chair. He looked at me like I was insane.

                “Are you okay? We don’t have one.” He insisted.

                “Last night, three A.M, Asian woman came and talked about blood.” I sighed.

               “Oh. I thought that was a dream.” He replied, sitting up and rubbing his face tiredly. I smiled.

                “No. Now go get ready. She’ll be here at ten.” He looked at his watch.

                “Sherlock! It’s nine-thirty!” He half-shouted.

                “And?”

                “That’s only a half hour!”

                “And?”

“I have to shower, and eat, and somehow get you to eat! That takes at least an hour!” He listed.

“It takes you fifteen minutes maximum to shower and eat, and I don’t need to eat.” I replied. He sighed.

“You are eating tonight!” He argued, getting up and going up the stairs. I smiled a little and went into my room to shower myself.

At nine fifty-six, we were both ready, and the flat was ‘nice’ according to John. I didn’t care. At ten A.M sharp, the infernal knocking sounded at the door. John rushed down and they came up, John chatting her up now that he was awake. I rolled my eyes as she took a seat on the couch and John sat a respectful distance away.

“Mr. Holmes.” She began formally. I raised my chin in acknowledgement and she continued. “I want to thank you again for taking the case. I heavily suggest we start with my sister.”

“Uh, actually, could you explain again? Sherlock refused to and I fell asleep when you did the first time.” John interrupted sheepishly. I rolled my eyes. Rachelle agreed, however and explained thoroughly.

“Sister.” I said, as soon as she was done, not giving John time to ask any stupid questions. “Good place to start. Let’s go.” I jumped up and was out of the flat before anyone had time to argue. I hailed a cab and it pulled up as the other two came out of 221.

“So, only girls- females?” John asked, breaking the silence a few minutes into the ride.

“Yeah. Females.” Rachelle confirmed, nodding.

“Anything that connected any of them?” He continued.

“Not that the police or families could see. I was hoping Mr. Holmes would take a look at them.” She replied, looking at me. I nodded vacantly. She seemed pleased.

“Okay, and do you have descriptions of any of the men?” John droned on. I resisted the urge to groan.

“No. All I know is that they’re middle-aged and are average height.” John nodded and continued scribbling in his notebook. Before he could ask any more stupid questions, the cab pulled up to her house. She paid the fare and led us in. It was a fairly average house, and it was pretty new. It was clean, too. Very clean. Germaphobe clean.

She led us into the den, and I saw a young girl, no older than sixteen sitting on the sofa. She was just staring into space and was very pale. John immediately went from stern and work-based to comforting and emotional.

“Hello. I’m John Watson, this is Sherlock Holmes. We’re here to find out who did that to you and stop them.” He said in his most gentle voice. Her eyes widened at the mention of the men. “What’s your name?” John asked. The girl bit her lip.

“It’s okay. Tell them your name.” Rachelle encouraged.

“…Clara.” She said quietly, looking down at the floor.

“Hello Clara.” John smiled softly. He turned around to me and gave me a pointed look. I sighed.

“Hello Clara. I’m Sherlock.” I said with faux politeness, offering my hand. She gently took it, shaking weakly and smiling in the same manner. John sat down next to her on the couch and Rachelle on the other side.

“Can you tell them what happened?” She asked gently. Clara shook her head no.

“We’re getting you protection, and we’re going after the men. You can tell us.” John encouraged. She still didn’t talk.

                “Clara, it’s okay. They’re going to help.” Rachelle confirmed.

                “I can’t.” She argued, looking down at the floor inbetween her feet.

                “Please, Clara. We can’t find them unless you tell us.” John begged.

                “…You’re going to protect me? And my family?” Clara asked, unsure.

“Yes. The best protection.” I said confidently. She took in a deep breath, and let it out the same.

                “Three men.” She began slowly. I wanted to hurry her up, but John read my thoughts and gave me a stern look and my thoughts subsided… mostly. “They came up to me on the street and pushed me into an alley.” She took a deep breath.

“It’s okay, Clara.” I sighed silently. I am going to skip the encouraging and edit out the pauses, because they are irrelevant from here on.

“They asked me if I was a virgin or not, which immediately had me afraid. I tried to get my mace, but one of them grabbed my arms. They asked me again, but I didn’t tell them. Then they pulled out syringes and stuck one in my arm. They asked me again, and out of fear I admitted that I was. They seemed satisfied, but instead of taking out the syringes, they began taking blood out. They cut my legs and collected the blood until I was almost unconscious. Then they warned me that if I told anyone they would kill me and my family, despite if we were virgins or not.” That was the end of the useful information, and it was mixed in with a lot of crying, encouragement, and stops. I was beyond irritated when she finally got it all out almost an hour later. John and Rachelle didn’t seem annoyed. In fact, they seemed exactly the same as when they started.

“Do you think the rest of the women were virgins, too?” John asked once we were in another cab.

“Very high possibility.” Rachelle agreed, speaking my thoughts. I agreed wholeheartedly.

“Okay. We need to get that protection for her. We don’t know anything about the men. She couldn’t even give a description of them she was in so much shock.” John brought up. I began calling Mycroft and they continued talking as I spoke with him.

“So could you get the records and find any victims that are still around?” John asked.

“I could. As long as you don’t mind me getting them illegally.” Rachelle replied. I smirked.

“Of course not. I’m used to it.” John replied. I quit listening after that, focusing on persuading Mycroft. He eventually agreed, just as John said something that caught my attention.

“It’s like those old creepy things you hear about. ‘Blood of a virgin’ type of thing.” He said in a playful tone.

“Stop the cab!” I shouted. It came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the street. I jumped out, ignoring the cries from John. I began running down the street to the nearest church that I knew of. About halfway there, I received a text from John.

                “Where the hell are you!?

                -JW”

           “Heading down to the-” I looked up at the sign. “7th Day Adventist church on 13th Street. Come on.

                -SH”

                “What!? Why?

                -JW” I sighed as I reached the church.

              “Virgin sacrifices. I read somewhere a long time ago –I deleted the source cos I was young- that there was a cult found that was doing virgin sacrifices. They were arrested, but the leaders’ triplet sons were lost.

                -SH”

I ran into the church, not even taking time to look around and just going up to the pulpit.

                “So you ran off without us!?

                -JW”

I ignored that one and lifted up the trap door that was behind said pulpit.

                “Sherlock! What are you even doing?” He sent. He didn’t even do the initials. “Sherlock! We’re coming! Wait!”

                “Going into tunnel behind pulpit. Won’t get reception. Hurry.

                -SH” I sent, dropping down and not waiting for a reply. The reception immediately disappeared. I began walking down the corridor, pulling out the LED torch I kept in my pocket. There were a few select churches that I knew of that had tunnels connecting them. It was sort of like the Underground Railroad in America, but not for transporting slaves. It was for communicating during the Dark Ages for the religious meetings. They were also supposed to be immune to the viruses going around because of a certain herb laced in the walls, but it was just a myth. I didn’t believe it.

                I reached a large room, lit only by a gigantic fire pit in the middle of the room that didn’t give much light. There was a large pulpit at the head of the room and a stone table on the other side that had a moat around it. I hoped John would get there soon… I would need help with three men who liked virgins’ blood. Male virgins’ blood was supposedly more powerful than females’, too.

I got out my pistol and began walking into the room, making as little noise as possible. I scanned the area above the stone table, seeing shelves upon shelves with glass bottles filled with a red liquid, that I could only guess was blood, sitting on them. I quickly moved away from the stone table and to the other side of the room and to the pulpit and looked over it. A Bible was sitting on the top and blood was stained all over the cover. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in a long time. Years probably. I looked down at the shelves and saw empty bottles of blood, along with plenty of dead creatures. I winced and stood back up, looking around into the corners of the room where the light from the fire didn’t reach. Nothing in the first corner but a large curtain. As I looked into the second corner I heard voices coming from a tunnel and I froze, listening carefully. I soon recognized the voices as John and Rachelle, and I continued looking. The second corner didn’t have anything either, but as soon as I looked into the third, a security camera looked back at me.

                “Bloody...” John trailed off when he entered the room just by pure surprise. I ran down to him and covered his mouth, pushing him back into the tunnel. Rachelle got the hint and followed us.

                “John, shut up! There was a security camera and I was seen.” I said. I looked to Rachelle. “Do you know how to shoot?” I asked her. She nodded. I was going to turn back to John to ask him if he had his gun, but he licked my hand because it was still over his mouth. I immediately drew it back, wiping it wildly on my coat. “What the-”

                “Sherlock! What were you thinking!?” He interrupted, speaking at a loud volume.

                “Shh! John!” I tried to cover his mouth again.

“No, Sherlock! You left us without warning then made us come down in this bl-” He was shouting by the time Rachelle’s gloved hand covered his mouth. He fought for a moment before we all heard men’s voices coming from across the room even though we were in the tunnel. John’s eyes widened as Rachelle drew her hand away and got her pistol. John got his at the same time I gave him a stern look. He avoided it and stepped in front of Rachelle protectively as the voices grew louder.

“Who’s there!?” One demanded, the voice sounding very stern and deep. None of us answered, but I took a step towards the entrance to the room. “Aye said who’s there!” He repeated.

“We are armed and we will shoot to kill!” Another voice shouted, sounding higher than the first voice.

“So are we.” I said in the most menacing voice I could muster, slipping out slowly and walking along the wall to my left and towards the stone table.

“Then show yourselves! Don’t be cowards!” A third voice shouted, sounding more in the room than the others.

“We aren’t. You’re the cowards!” John spoke up, following my actions but going right and to the pulpit.

“Then show yourselves and fight!” The second man shouted.

“You’re the cowards! You kill innocent women!” Rachelle retorted, following John.

“It’s for a good cause!” The first man argued, him coming into the room as well.

“Such as?” John asked snidely, his voice now at the pulpit.

“Cures.” The third man said darkly. I heard Rachelle scoff, sounding like she was by the fire pit.

“What kind of cures come from death?” She demanded.

“One’s that are effective!” The second voice replied ominously, sounding like he was at the tunnel where we entered. I don’t know how they managed to walk so quietly. John and Rachelle were having trouble with the cavernous room and I could hear each footstep clearly.

“Using virgins’ blood?” John asked sarcastically. I heard him trip over something and rolled my eyes as I reached the ceiling-to-floor shelves with the bottles of blood on them.

“If that’s what it takes!” The second man shouted, sounding like he was at the stone table. My heart jumped a bit.

“Are you using spells or something?” John mocked, now at the other tunnel. I assumed that all three men were now in the room and searching for us.

“Yes, if you must know. You’re going to die anyway!” The first man growled.

“Is that so?” I asked dryly, trying to remember their names. “Like witches?”

“Exactly. It works. We’re immune.” The third man said, now at the entrance to the tunnel where we came in.

“Immune to what?” Rachelle asked, coming up to me.

                “Everything.” They all said together. It gave me the chills hearing it.

                “The common cold, chicken pox, everything?” John questioned, sounding intrigued.

                “Yes.” All three of them said again.

                “That’s interesting. How’d you manage that?” I asked, beginning to grab blood bottles and signalling for Rachelle to do the same.

                “The Blood.” They said.

                “So you really are witches?” John mocked. They shouted out in anger, their voices coming from everywhere now.

                “Yes! We are the sons of the son of satan! We were born from the blood of virgin, and from the same blood you will die!” They shouted, the firepit going out, spreading the room in darkness. “We are powered by the blood, and he rewards us for our deeds!” Their voices changed, sounding higher-pitched and unnatural. It gave me a chill, and Rachelle as well. We all stopped taunting after that. “Show yourselves! Speak!” They commanded, shrieking eerily. John had found his way over and was now also collecting bottles. Suddenly a cold wind blew behind us, almost knocking us into the shelves. A few bottles fell and the thin glass shattered. Blood was everywhere. A shriek came from behind us and the blood began giving off a dull red glow. We all began throwing the bottles on the ground, breaking them and spilling the blood everywhere. Gagging was prominent from Rachelle and I, but John seemed okay. “No!” The men –or creature- screamed from behind us. I had a feeling it wasn’t human any more. More wind began blowing and I was very cold. As soon as the bottles that were within reach were all broken, we began breaking the shelves to make more fall. Suddenly Rachelle was grabbed by an arm of black –just black- and was pulled back, screaming as she went. John shouted out for her as we heard sickening bone-crunching.

                “No, John. Blood equals power for it! Destroy the blood!” I commanded, not even looking at him and focusing on the task at hand. One last shelf, but it was the highest. “John, give me a boost.” I commanded, just as the crunching stopped.

                “Stop!” It screamed. John nodded and folded his hands and let me step on. I quickly stepped up and reached for the shelf, but I was a couple inches short. John was too short. I cursed loudly and began reaching as high as I could. “No! You will suffer!” The thing shouted. I saw movement in the freezing blackness, and I knew it was coming for John or I. It grabbed John and he shouted out for me. I wanted to help, but it was him or London. I quickly decided on him without much hesitation, but before I could, he was grabbed. I jumped and grabbed onto the shelf, making it fall as John was sucked back. I shouted out for him and fell, landing with a splash in the blood, which was slowly seeping into the dirt and now my clothes. The creature screamed, it’s life source dripping into the earth. “Sherlock Holmes, you will burn in hell!” It screamed.

                “Then you’ll burn with me.” I shouted back darkly, shooting at it even though I knew it wouldn’t help.

                “As you wish.” Before I could understand, I was sucked into the darkness, freezing my body. I could only hope it died with me.

Okay, I know this gets really rushed and bad at the end, but it was planned out before. I got stuck for a few days trying to find a way to connect a couple parts together, and I got it tonight around 9 PM with only like 2 pages done. I got this posted at 11:58 PM and I was screaming. But this is it. Sorry it's rushed. It was gonna have more details but I ran out of pages too. I hope my grammar saves me. Man... I probably won't make it to the next round. *cries* CURSE YOU LACK OF INSPIRATION! Basically, the three dudes were a demon and their bodies joined up and they got more powerful and then they talked some more, then the bottles started breaking and the blood glowed and... ugh. I messed up >.<