Sherlock's Kiss [Fuhua Vampire Colleague]

A frightening shadow suddenly appeared from the door of the banquet hall. This shadow was extremely ghostly, looming outside the dark corridor, and then this darkness turned into a concrete human form, and Mycroft suddenly appeared in the Behind his body, there seemed to be a curl of black smoke floating, and the rippling smoke disappeared behind him like a flowing cloud, like a large group of black bats falling into the emptiness and then annihilated.This figure is more beautiful and taller than ordinary people. He is dressed in a black dress and a red velvet tie with a slightly shimmering brooch. There is a look of interest in his eyes, reflecting the candlelight. His demeanor is the same as when we met last time Same elegance.

He quickly looked at Jielin who got up from the floor in a panic. Because of his gaze, Jielin quickly restrained her ferocious expression, revealing a cute and cute look, just like the moment before confusing John Watson, With a pitiful posture, he bowed his head in front of Mycroft, humble and respectful.

Mycroft raised his eyelids again and followed Miss Irene Adler with her eyes. Miss Adler raised her white chin proudly before his eyes, her voice surpassed her age, "I don't know you saw What, Mycroft, but things are not what you think."

Mycroft smiled slightly, "Miss Adler, who is the real owner of the Scarlet Rebirth? If you really respect the owner of this train enough, why don't you tell him this yourself? Or do you want to To relay it to him through me? If you let him know what you are doing behind his back, do you think his brilliant mind will believe your explanation?"

"No! Mycroft, you can't tell him!" Miss Adler's big purple eyes flashed with panic, and she quickly stopped Mycroft from saying.

"But I really want to tell him that he is my own younger brother. I'm not used to hiding things from him. Look at the moon, it's so high. He should have woken up." Mycroft firmly said, And calm.

Miss Adler stared at him, then gave in to all kinds of arrogance, and a weak voice came out of her throat, "I'm sorry, I know I made a mistake, and I won't do it again."

"How did you become so bold? Miss Adler? Do you want me to remind you of your original identity? Who is your master? Who is the master of this train? Among all the people you have met , who is the strongest?"

Miss Adler's dark purple eyes opened wider than before, and her voice was a little disturbed, "I haven't forgotten my identity."

"Then tell me, who is your master? Dear Miss Adler?" Mycroft asked, his serious eyes flickering into the woman's eyes.

"It's Sherlock Holmes, it's him," she whispered. "He's my master."

"Would you like to go back to the dark cave where you were? Do you know how much those hunters liked you? They couldn't forget you," said Mycroft mockingly. "Your confession is touching, boy, but You forcibly seduced this weak and poor doctor tonight, don't rush to argue, I know you used your hypnosis skills, I know he didn't want to, if you really succeeded, you think Sherlock will still be there Will he protect you in front of the hunters? Does he still care about how those hunters abuse you after they capture you back?"

Miss Adler pressed her charming lips tightly, and after a long time, she said something unexpected: "Are you going to drive me out of the car?"

"Drive you away?" Mycroft walked slowly to the sofa, sat down arrogantly, and raised his head, "Do you want to go? Do you have a place to go? No matter where you go, the harvesting scythe will with you."

"Life has no meaning at all. For those who have eternity, the months, months, and years are the same." She repeated numbly, "If you die, you will die."

"Come on, dear Irene, if you really die, not only I will miss you, Sherlock will miss you too, if you get out of the car, he will worry about you, I don't mean to drive you away Meaning, I just want to give you a warning, Sherlock is a great man, a strong man, he is a king, don't let him disappoint you, don't cause trouble, don't give him a reason to abandon you."

"Thank you for your warning." Miss Adler didn't dare to be slight or contemptuous in her reply.

John Watson looked stupidly at the conversation that completely reversed the situation, and then more people appeared in the banquet hall.The chandelier is burning above the head, shining brilliantly on the wall. This banquet hall is made up of several long carriages. The number of figures entering the hall suddenly increases. These creatures that move after nightfall are both male and female. It looks like a human being, no different from John Watson, with regular facial features, even glamorous, completely different from the monster I saw on the roof of the car that day, more and more people gather, tens or even hundreds, with fragrant clothes and temples hall.

The waiters shuttled back and forth lively and nimbly, placing the cups and saucers on the table, as if a rich dinner was being held, the aroma of meat and fine wine wafted under the nose of John Watson, and these mushrooms sprung up They talk, they dance, men hold women's hands, dance from one window to another, they drink, smile, laugh, lay chess boards on the table, play poker, someone holds Cigars are talking about politics, some people are leaning against the window to listen to the cicadas outside the car with a collection of poems, some are whispering, these "people" are walking on the carpet of the Scarlet Rebirth, and everyone is vivid and natural, with a dignified appearance.

No one would connect them with vampires, and among these vampires there were indeed some living people, big living people, such as Lestrade, whose black shadow fell on the wall, and he appeared in John Watson Within sight of him, he exudes a sense of courteous intimacy.Unlike Sherlock, and unlike Mycroft, and unlike those two women and the other vampires in the hall that were disturbing, he was friendly to John Watson, almost too friendly.

John Watson stood alone in the corner of the banquet hall, forgotten by others, he still couldn't restrain his curiosity, and boldly peeped in the direction of Mycroft, he convinced himself that there was nothing to see, but It's a group of people eating, drinking and talking in an ordinary way.Oh hell!This is no ordinary eating, drinking and talking, this is no ordinary banquet, this is a vampire's dinner.

The candles were dimly lit, the curtains were half drawn, and Mycroft was sitting in the chief sofa, with Lestrade on his left and Miss Adler on his right.Everyone was sipping the poor wine that John Watson had tasted in Sherlock's room, several bottles were opened, one was consumed, another was opened, and in the meantime they drank a very considerable amount. Wine, whiskey and brandy, delicious chicken, pork chops, beef and sheep roasts are also appreciated from them, while cutting, and then sliding down their esophagus through their mouths while chewing.

These vampires seem to eat just about anything.

John Watson looked across the crowd, and he saw Mycroft looking at Lestrade with almost fascination.

Immediately afterwards, John Watson's heart "thumped" and he felt frightened for some inexplicable reason.He watched Mycroft carelessly lower his lips towards Lestrade, and turned the back of his head to John Watson, blocking most of the horror picture, and Mycroft buried his head in Lestrade's head He stayed between his neck for a long time, then turned his face back and leaned back against the sofa.

There was a smear of shocking blood on the lips. Mycroft licked the blood away with his tongue, while Lestrade lowered his eyes, raised his hand, and put a silk cloth on his neck to stop the bleeding. Then the two of them spoke to each other. Looking at it, Mycroft smiled lovingly, and Lestrade smiled back.

John Watson seemed to smell the thick blood. He felt a little sick to his stomach and felt very uncomfortable. He pushed the shoulders of these people away, bent down to pick up his crutches, and slipped out of the banquet hall and the aisle of the carriage. There was a sudden silence on the road. It seemed that the walls of each car were soundproofed. The outside was lifeless, and only a kerosene lamp was lit.

John Watson thought again and again of the blood on Mycroft's lips, and the blood hole in Lestrade's neck, and a strong nausea rolled in his stomach, oh, grass, these people drink human blood for a living ... the one who drank human blood ... John Watson couldn't find the words, he walked forward on crutches, the "people" in the hall, those are the real monsters, completely different from Sherlock Holmes Same.

Make him disgusted, make him feel angry, all this makes him see it, but he can't do anything about it.

He grabbed a passing waiter, dressed as a flight attendant, with a tray, and John Watson asked him gruffly, "Where the hell is Sherlock Holmes?"

"Which... which Sherlock Holmes..." The waiter was a human being just like him. He looked at the furious John Watson with some trepidation, and he didn't even dare to straighten his neck in front of John Watson.

"Sherlock Holmes, who suffered a thousand knives! Where is he!"

"It's... outside, repairing the train with our mechanic, Jasmine Amber." The waiter pointed to the exit with trembling fingers.

John Watson let go of him, grabbed his cane, and rushed to the car door. He stood on the steps, hesitating for a moment, his mind spinning, his thoughts mixed with suspicion, anger, and guilt.He wondered why Sherlock Holmes didn't look like a real bloodthirsty monster. His eyes were hungry, but there was no evil in him that wanted to murder his life. What kind of a vampire is he?John Watson was furious at the same time. He had intuitively felt that this train clearly carried some kind of lofty dream of Sherlock Holmes, but why the train was full of monsters praising fanaticism and death? There is so much guilt that he doesn't understand Sherlock Holmes, and Sherlock Holmes doesn't seem to trust him completely. Apart from showing that he is a member of the blood family, other key secrets have nothing to John Watson at all. reveal.

The startled sweat on John Watson's back gradually cooled down, making him a little cold. He stepped on the car and raised his head naturally. The big green eyes stared into the darkness for hours. As for the expressions on their faces, John Watson couldn't see clearly in the dark tunnel.

He lowered his head and looked around blindly. The entire tunnel was as dark as the belly of a whale. The moon and stars shone through the tunnel entrance, but the depths of the tunnel were still pitch black. The direction of this side of the car.

John Watson leaned on the carriage, trying his best to make out things in the darkness, and the soles of his shoes made a rustling sound of rolling stones in the darkness.

John Watson suddenly had goosebumps all over his body, and a sense of oppression descended on his back.

"Be careful," he said, "the paint isn't dry in places." Sherlock's cold voice echoed in the back of his head.

John Watson immediately turned his head, trying to distinguish the figure of Sherlock Holmes through the faint shadow of the moon in the distance. This mysterious vampire was buried in the darkness and could not be seen clearly.

"What are you doing, Mr. Holmes?"

"Installing the windows, the glass was broken by some impolite hunters."

"Installing windows when you're so blind?"

"I can see everything clearly, including you. I can even read the emotion in your eyes. I can see that you are looking for me very urgently. Who bullied you in the car?"

"No one... No one bullied me." John Watson didn't want to mention that matter for the time being, he changed the subject, "Can you see me in such a dark place?" John Watson really wanted to reach out and test Xia Xia. How close Locke was to him, so close he felt, almost in front of John Watson's forehead.

"I have extraordinary night vision. I told you that we are an ancient race, Dr. Watson. Long before your people built cities in the hot south, my ancestors had traveled through the dark winters of northern Europe. , began to hunt and kill. The sequence of our origins is not inferior to yours. In very ancient times, I don’t mean a gap of hundreds of years, but a distance of thousands of years. In ancient times, we were still naked , savage cavemen, sleep in caves with our companions and families during the day, and come out to rule the land at night."

John Watson snorted, "Yes, yes, you are the proud blood race of the night, quick and deadly, unrestrained. You are far longer than all animals and people in the world, and you are indestructible. You are the ruler and king of all things. All creatures are your food, and all two-legged and four-legged creatures will flee from you crying with terror."

John Watson suddenly realized that something was falling towards him, and he couldn't help taking a step back. This was the instinct of the body, a match brushed against the leather on his sleeve, and a cluster of small jumping flames suddenly ignited in Sherlock's palm. Getting up, John Watson blinked in the dim light.

The flames were bright and stable, and the depths of Sherlock's pupils were filled with the red light of the flames, as well as fragmented reflections, in which there were blood-red desires, burning hunger, and the small figure of John Watson.

"Damn it! I didn't hear anyone else beside you!" John Watson looked at the female driver standing beside Sherlock's shoulder. He had glimpsed her briefly in the driver's cab. The waiter called her the mechanic Jasmine Amber, and the expression on Jasmine's face seemed to have been staying beside Sherlock, silently.

Sherlock smiled and said, "As long as she wants, she can be very quiet, right Jasmine."

Jasmine nodded silently. She was still wearing the same outfit, a neat neutral black uniform, lined with a red vest, boots, ponytail, and a green hair band. The difference was that there were several heavy mechanical pliers around her waist this time. She put her hands in the pockets of her uniform, and her big bright eyes were also staring at John Watson motionlessly in the firelight.

Her night vision ability must not be bad, she must have captured the subtle expression of John Watson talking to Sherlock in the darkness just now.John Watson looked at Sherlock with yearning in his eyes.

Sherlock put the match into the kerosene lamp Molly was carrying, lit the lamp, and then pushed the kerosene lamp into John Watson's hand. "Here, take this little toy," he said, "clumsy little toy." Doctor, when it gets dark, you become blind and can't see anything."

John Watson took the kerosene lamp and carried it in front of his body. The lamp was dangling on the handle. He turned his head to face the carriage, and suddenly he sighed in surprise, whether it was the carriage, the ground, or the tunnel was cold and damp. On the stone wall, only the lumbering shadow of John Watson moved with his steps, and the two people beside him seemed lifeless.

Some of those legends are true!John Watson, leaning on a cane, followed Sherlock with heavy steps, listening to the chatter between the two of them.

"The boiler room is still good, eighteen boilers," Jasmine said in a very professional language, "three more than the last repair, each with a diameter of 38 inches and a length of 28 feet, and the material outside the furnace is fireproof." Bricks and metal panels, it won't stain the floor and reduces the possibility of a fire." Jasmine led Sherlock to the boiler-burning compartment, two compartments behind the driver's seat, with only one outward door to enter and exit , with a heavy lock on it, filled with fuel, and above the head is the black iron chimney that leads from the boiler to the sky. will speed up, and then, when I have tamed the train with the new cylinders, our train will be the fastest and most fearsome dragon on the old British railways."

Sherlock smiled. He suddenly turned his head and looked down at the figure next to him. "Let's go back to the carriage," Sherlock said. "My new passenger doesn't seem to be interested in engines. You should like the things in the dining car." Yes, doctor."

"Wait, Sherlock." Jasmine stopped him. "I know what the Scarlet Reborn means to you, and I want you to understand that this train means a lot to me. To me, every night is a glorious one." A new beginning. You and I, and everyone on board, together we built this train and created a legendary experience. Sherlock... I have something to say to you in private."

Sherlock just smiled slightly, "I understand what you want to say, Jasmine, I have always admired you, without you this train could not start so fast, in my long life, I have been longing to bring a beautiful world to the world." The new thing, this beautiful thing is this train, you helped create this train, I want to thank you, but I will not back my mind, decided to go tonight according to my plan, go to that place."

"If you insist on going there, there is a high possibility that something will happen to this train, it will break down or even be destroyed..." Jasmine nervously shook her head in front of him.

"You don't need to say it, but this is the only way to exchange for a better world. Let me and my new passenger have a drink or two in the car. You should start the wheels. It has been delayed a lot tonight."

"It would be great if it went so smoothly, Sherlock, you always face all challenges optimistically."

"With me in this car, what are you afraid of?"

"You are the train conductor, you have the final say." Jasmine couldn't deal with him, so she could only sigh. John Watson's eyes widened, and he watched her lightly climb up the carriage, floated up like smoke, and disappeared in an instant. On the roof, there is no sound at all.

John Watson raised the kerosene lamp over the roof of the car. "My God, she just climbed the hell up like that? How did she do it?"

"She goes up and checks the chimney. Do you want to go up and see it too? It's a great feeling. Especially for me."

"How does it feel? What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the moment the train starts. Come, Dr. Watson, and I'll show you the beauty and freedom of the Scarlet Rebirth, and the hope that lies within it."

The author has something to say:

囧囧囧囧. . .

Authors really don't use draft boxes, this is Chapter 12. . .