Sherlock's Kiss [Fuhua Vampire Colleague]

Chapter 3 Chapter 3 Sherlock's Resistance

For the next several months, Sherlock's whole heart was ashamed.

He learned what he was in the eyes of humans from the books described by the world.

Sherlock had learned those words.

He has existed in the world for 20 years, and always thinks that he is extraordinary, but since he started hunting the living, this instinct that cannot be restrained by his will makes Sherlock realize that he is just a supernatural creature, a kind of A hideous and twisted beast, a monster without a soul.

He is not even as good as the human animals described by the vampires. Human beings kill people with complex and entangled psychological feelings, while the vampires kill people purely for food.

Like those maggots who were born only knowing to open their mouths to eat meat.

Sherlock concluded that he was nothing more than a bloodthirsty monster, a blood-manipulated vampire whose superior intellect made it impossible for him to bear his parentage.

He had no choice since he was born, and the only thing that went wrong was that his brother and father shouldn't have allowed him to hang out with humans for too long and get too close.

Sherlock doesn't have the power to transform into anything, and unlike werewolves, the bloodthirsty hunger comes every few days and seems to be related to the lunar cycle - although not always related to the waxing and waning of the moon The date is right on.

The werewolves completely coincided with the full moon cycle. Under the control of the full moon, they would transform, grow hair, and tear open the throats of human beings out of control, but the vampires were at most moved by the moon tide.

Sherlock knows himself very well, he does not eat human flesh, he only sucks blood, and the period of extreme hunger and thirst makes him suffer, but Sherlock is still using his high-end self-control to restrain and reduce the hunting behavior to the lowest level , hunting once a month, or even once every two months, this is undoubtedly an extremely huge test for him.

And he began to learn to carefully choose food objects, those dregs that don't need to survive in the world, but Sherlock never felt how noble it is to eliminate harm for the people in this way. Like a human being, his heart is actually crazily longing for human blood.

He grew up sleeping in a bed, not in a coffin.Most of his behavior is that of a man, but he knows he isn't.

Sherlock tried countless times to fight against the instinct in his heart, the river of hunger and thirst flowing faintly in his body, month after month, bloodthirsty hunger kept finding him.

The nights of those seizures were filled with terrible ecstasy.

Taking the lives of others made Sherlock feel more alive than ever.

But at the same time it made him paradoxically disgusted with himself.

Sometimes he hunted the young, the vigorous, the beautiful but wicked.They seem to have the same essence as Sherlock, brilliant on the outside, but rotten on the inside.

Sherlock is very desperate and wants to change himself.Usually his willpower is very strong, but it is useless when the bloodthirsty hunger strikes.

Once he felt the first signs of that hunger coming, he quickly found a church and confessed everything to the priest who answered his door.The priest regarded him as a fanatical confession child and did not believe his crazy confession. The priest sat down and prayed with Sherlock.

Foolishly put on the cross for Sherlock, the kind-hearted priest knelt in front of the altar, praying fervently, asking God to bless the child and bring him out of the desperate situation.

Standing in front of the candles and icons, those pure candlelight surrounded him, Shylock stayed safe in the temple of God, but his loyal servant let a monster into it.

In less than 30 minutes, Sherlock pounced on him and almost killed the kind priest in the church. His excellent self-control took effect, and the priest reported the police on the spot and sparked a firestorm. No small commotion.

Of course Sherlock got away before the police arrived, and it was not difficult for him to fly up to the eaves in the night fog.

The blood of animals has never been able to completely replace human beings. The frozen plasma obtained in the hospital can only relieve the thirst for a while, but it cannot end the hunger and thirst.There is no substitute for the desire to slaughter, the pleasure of sucking warm blood from a living body.

That is life, and the blood obtained from life is meaningful.

Later, Sherlock had an idea that it might be the final solution.

Sherlock finds traces of his brother and reconnects with him.

Sherlock saw a way out in him.

But Mycroft was surprised and dismissive of his plan.

Because what Sherlock is thinking about is that he will chain himself up and imprison him until the "hunger and thirst" subside. This is the so-called feasible plan that Sherlock came up with.

And the key can't be placed within reach, once the hunger and thirst strike Sherlock will use it, but if the key is lost too far, how will Sherlock get out of trouble?Maybe he will kill himself.

Sherlock needs someone to help him, and he has always heeded his father's warning not to entrust his ultimate secret to humans.

So he went to Mycroft, and endured his ridicule and contempt, and his disapproval.

The elder brother's objection can't shake Sherlock's determination to take risks no matter what, the elder brother really can't understand, he is extremely surprised, he doesn't understand what feelings are?What is the meaning of that inexplicable pity for human beings?What the hell is all that post-meal guilt and guilt?My brother doesn't understand these things, and he has never felt them. He is a blood race who only knows how to suck blood and hunt animals.

Now Sherlock has found a secret room - safe, a small room with no windows.

There were heavy stone walls and an iron gate, as thick as the one in the prison my father shared with him in memory, and three huge metal gates were sealed on the outside.

This is enough to make the strong Sherlock have nowhere to escape.

When all was done, Sherlock summoned his impatient brother and gave him instructions.

Sherlock trusted him completely and told him that during the period of Sherlock's attack, he would stay in this special room all the time, and his brother had to lock the door outside and keep Sherlock inside for three full days.

Sherlock will bring water and food in advance, including some live animals, a few fat and big wild pheasants, so that the hunger and thirst can be alleviated a little.

Mycroft looked worried, kind of distressed, but he couldn't hold back his stubborn brother, and finally agreed to do what Sherlock said.

Mycroft never understood why Sherlock fought his blood instincts in this way.

Then came the hunger and thirst.

Horrible, unspeakable hunger.

Despite the lack of windows, Sherlock could feel the days and nights passing by.

As always, he was barely able to sleep during the day, but at night he would become utterly terrifying.

Sherlock killed every living animal that first night, wringing their heads off, ripping out their entrails, and swallowing every drop of blood.

Sherlock dragged a long chain and kept lying behind the heavy door asking for freedom, but he could only hear his brother coldly refusing outside.

Sherlock started screaming insults at him, and then it was just screaming, broken and beastly.

Sherlock slammed into the wall, pounded on the cell door until his fists were bloody, and crouched down to eagerly suck the blood from his own hands.The blood tastes like nothing to drink, let alone quench your thirst.

He tried to push away the stones in the corner, but he just couldn't get out, because this cell was designed by him. Before starting the construction, he rationally considered all kinds of escape possibilities, and ruled them out with impeccable iron doors and hard walls. Get rid of all possibilities.

The two thick iron chains connected to the ground made it impossible for him to get rid of, and the burning desire was more terrifying than he remembered, like the sun burning him, everything in front of him was blurred.Sherlock's skin seemed to be on fire, and he screamed again, closing his eyes, and roaring and screaming for hours, feeling as if he was getting closer to death.

However, for some reason, in the sudden fever of death, Sherlock made a firm decision to live.

I made a decision!I can't die.

Sherlock punched the copper wall and iron wall, and the iron chain was very strong.Sherlock paid special attention to this, and he was determined to break the chains no matter what, and let them loose from the stone wall. Sherlock tugged and tugged, but they didn't budge.

The chain is strong.Sherlock spent hour after hour in the desperately hungry and hopeless room.He didn't know why he was able to stay sober, but he was sober enough.Sherlock's fair skin was covered with bleeding marks from chains and walls, and the pain was so severe that he could hardly describe it.

But Sherlock still struggled with the chains, and his outburst of powerful strength broke free under the threat of pain and death. Finally, one of the chains snapped.It was the one on the left that broke, and the iron ring embedded in the wall came out of the splintered stone, and Sherlock was half free.As a result, his foot bones were severely injured and he began to experience severe pain.

Look at him, bloodthirsty yet vulnerable and sensitive to pain like a human being.

Sherlock suspected he would be unconscious soon, and once he fell, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stand up again.The chain on the right looked as tough and strong as it had been when Sherlock had first struggled.

This period of time is endless.

The chain never came loose, and Sherlock writhed and writhed in pain, unable to sleep, let alone quiet, awake, but agitated, he brought it on.

Sherlock carried it until the third day, and his mind began to become clearer than the previous two days, as if the clear water had bottomed out, and the frenzied hunger and thirst seemed to subside.

He called his brother to the door and told him that the matter was over and that he could let Sherlock out.

But Mycroft was so calm, he rejected him at the door contemptuously, and said that Sherlock himself said that he would lock himself in for three days, and it would take three days to make up.

"Of course, Mycroft, I did say that." Sherlock admitted it was true, laughing, wandering behind the door, dragging the chains on his bare feet, "but I said my episode was over. , and I know how to control it."

"You are the younger brother I watched growing up. Do you think I don't understand you? You are talking nonsense with your eyes open now. I can hear the grinding of your teeth from far away." Mycroft still did not open the door.

Sherlock didn't yell at him. "I understand, Mycroft, you are so loyal to your orders. Then I would like to ask you to talk to me a little bit, because I am very lonely in this prison."

"lonely?"

"Yes, Mycroft, I am very lonely. Ever since I lost the land of the Holmes family and all the blessings I had enjoyed before, I feel more at a loss than ever before."

"Hmph, you should obey the destiny of the blood race, so you won't live so uncomfortable."

"I have nothing but sin."

"Why do you think so? My little brother, you shouldn't have been allowed to get too close to humans since you were a child, so that you have sympathy. These animals are just like the disemboweled pheasants in your room. It's all food."

"But they have souls and can create art."

"Don't mention stupid things like art. What we want is pleasure. Only when we have enough satiety can we get pleasure. This is enough."

Sherlock chatted back and forth with him for nearly an hour. It was calm, organized, and even charming. Sherlock willingly accepted the fact that he would survive three days in prison.

His conversation with his brother was so rational that Mycroft quickly echoed Sherlock's statement: "You do seem to have recovered."

"Open the door my kind brother, we haven't caught up for a long time, don't waste time here, let me go out and find a comfortable place, let's have a long talk, talk about some interesting things, how much I depend on you, my Brother, if Dad is really dead as you said, then you are my only relative in the world. After you let me out of the room, why not let me go with you? Live with you? I accept my It's bloody."

"Very good, I'm relieved to hear that you have such an awareness."

He opened the door.

Looking so relaxed, so defenseless, trusting, Mycroft, full of dignity and grace, stepped forward to undo the broken lock on Sherlock's ankle.

When he stood up, just in front of Sherlock's nose, Sherlock opened his hands to him, motioning for a hug that belonged to his brother.

The elder brother smiled lightly and pulled him closer, hugging him into his arms.

Sherlock's lips moved to his neck, found an artery, and bit open.

In the next second, he was thrown to the ceiling of the corridor, fell from the ceiling again, hit the ground hard and couldn't get up immediately, his ribs were broken due to counterattack, and his brother Mycroft lost his temper Lai is also a cold and ruthless character.

Mycroft took out a small handkerchief and pressed his neck to stop the bleeding, with a slight reproach in his voice, the kind of unbearable reprimand, "Killing the same kind is called treason, heinous, and my dear brother, the blood family Your blood can't satisfy you at all. You are so hungry and thirsty that you are willing to talk sweet words to me. Human life is so sweet that you can't resist it. What you want is a living person, so I'll catch one for you. Resign yourself to fate, Sherlock."

"I don't accept my fate! I can't do it! Mycroft, I'm not as depraved as you! In my opinion, I have always loved life! Whether it's my own life or the lives of others, I love those who are healthy, beautiful and The life of youth, I can't explain why! I hate myself, because I can only bring death in this world, I kill again and again in this country, I can't go on like this, continue to use more Blood and more death to wash away my sins. In order to atone for my sins, I must live! I want to bring goodness and hope to this world to replace what I took away."

"You are not the only one in this world, Sherlock, not only you are like this, but also your kind, those creatures that come and go at night, be it vampires, werewolves, or ogres, no matter what they are , They will all come and go at night. They also have blood on their hands, and they have long taken pleasure in killing, this is an instinct."

"I don't accept that this is an instinct. Survival is an instinct, but the charred creatures are definitely not instincts. Otherwise, why do I feel so painful? Among the thousands of night creatures, I really want to know, will they, have such A man who wants to overcome his bloodthirsty hunger like I do."

"There is no such kind of blood."

"I am one."

Sherlock regained his strength during this heart-wrenching imprisonment, and he gained great determination from this cruel trial.He vowed to change the way of life for himself and his people, and save his parents from what his parents called "the involuntary hunger" from destruction.

Sherlock didn't think it was impossible, anyway, he had unlimited time. In order to achieve this goal, Sherlock began to study medicine and chemistry in a deeper level.

There is no research on bloodlines in medicine, and bloodlines only exist in folklore.Sherlock needs to learn a lot from the human race. This is a powerful argument he used to counter Mycroft. If the vampires are higher creatures, then why the vampires do not have their own civilization, but should be humble I bowed my head to learn from those despicable animals, learning their language, their writing, and their music.

Maybe Sherlock is not the stupidest member of the blood race, on the contrary, he is one of the blood race who has suddenly become spiritual. He is smart enough to realize that he is not as noble as a human being. He is the one who evolved from a beast to a higher creature A member, so he has to resist.

Sherlock has been dormant in a famous medical school for a long time, studying old and new medical literature. He also studies chemistry, biology, anatomy, and even alchemy, seeking inspiration from them.Sherlock has set up his own laboratory, and now, whenever he has no choice but to lose out to his bloodlust, he has to take a life, and he does it every month or two, and after each time, Xialock Locke will bring back the corpse as much as possible for autopsy research.

Sherlock sometimes casts bad ideas on Mycocroft, the same kind. How eager he is to dissect the corpse of a blood race, so as to compare the differences, but Mycocroft will not easily promise to do something to him without authorization Well, Mycroft is usually secretive, and he won't show up at all unless it's an emergency.

In the second year of Sherlock's research, he cut off a finger on his left hand.He knew fingers would always regenerate.

Sherlock needs his own flesh for analysis and dissection.

His pain-sensing nerves are no different from ordinary people, and a few fingers are not enough to answer the hundreds of questions in Sherlock's mind, but it is still very worthwhile to bear the pain, because Sherlock has learned something.

The bones, muscles, and blood of blood races are significantly different from those of humans.

Blood is the same as meat, its color is relatively dull, and it lacks several elements that can be found in human blood, so the skin of blood races is very pale, without blood color, while the bones are just the opposite, with several more elements, and they are also more than human bones. Stronger and more flexible, it can heal quickly after being hit and damaged, and the oxygen content in blood and muscle tissue is much higher than that of the control samples from the human race.

Sherlock is keen on theoretical research. In his opinion, the lack of certain factors in the blood may be because of these lacking elements that drive him to have the urge to drink blood.One month two years later, when hunger and thirst struck again, Sherlock leaned over in a secret laboratory and sucked the blood from the arm of a victim, and then he immediately used a glass needle to draw his own blood to study. A medicine dissolved into his blood, and the composition of his blood changed!

His blood became thicker, almost indistinguishable from that of a human being, as if the human blood components had been replaced on his body, at least - it would maintain this thickening phenomenon for a period of time.So Sherlock was drawing blood every day, and research showed that when his blood concentration was thinned to a fixed critical point, "hunger and thirst" would strike.He only needs to find a way to make his blood plasma as thick as a human being, so as to reduce the onset of bloodthirsty desire.

The number of Sherlock's victims is increasing day by day. Sometimes he turns his head in front of the microscope and stares at the human beings who died on the experimental bed. He opens his eyes blankly and stagnantly. The pupils are full of collapse and confusion from excessive blood loss, and his face is ashen. Same white.

Sherlock is still too young to bestow a first embrace on the human being who died under his teeth. Until he is a hundred years old, he still does not have the energy to hold traditional blood rituals, even if he has this in the future With this kind of energy, Sherlock may not be willing to transform those innocent people into a bloodthirsty monster who is as painful as him.

This experimental process took years, endless experiments and research.Some potions work better than others, so Sherlock digs deep into them, improving them, changing one potion or adding some ingredients, and then trying the next one, patiently changing one another, persevering seek new progress.

Five years later in the summer, Sherlock drank the newly developed potion one night, just as before, waiting for a miracle after drinking the formula, or killing. That night, the killing did not find Sherlock Holmes.

His restlessness was released, and the hunger and thirst subsided in two seconds, so Sherlock filled the cup with the drink he had developed himself and sipped it.Shylock was a little worried at first, lest his victory was just an illusory dream.But that feeling completely subsided the next day.Hunger and thirst could no longer overwhelm him, take hold of him, and Sherlock no longer had to growl and struggle to go hunting and killing.

A kind of hope appeared in Sherlock's eyes, a kind of fanatical hope, and he quickly contacted Mycroft Holmes, whom he hadn't seen for a long time, and the first conversation between the two brothers was that.

Sherlock had a clear mind and said clearly, "Let me go back to the UK and try everything possible to get me a private train. I want to start from London all the way to Edinburgh."

"Are you another mode of insanity? My brother?"

"I found a way to regenerate the blood race."

The author has something to say:

On Sherlock's Anti-Human Traits: He Was Anti-Human When He Was Human

When he was a vampire, he was against the vampire. In short, he couldn't get rid of this little rebellion.

The Sherlock Holmes I set up did not fall in love with humans since childhood, but had something in common with humans

To put it bluntly, I have sympathy for animals and a great improvement in my own spirituality.

Since Shenxia was cruel enough to pull Holmes down from the altar and become a human being, but at the same time let Watson abandon him regardless

Then I should continue to vent my anger and let Holmes and Watson meet again to show their affection and love each other better than Jin Jian

I believe you all understand that this is an overhead fanfiction

I believe you can guess the exact time period.

The route of the train is set as London→→Edinburgh

This is very meaningful, first of all Sherlock was born in London, and secondly I don’t know where Watson was born, but I think he should have the same birthplace as Sir Conan Doyle, that is Edinburgh (of course you know the correct answer Children's shoes tell me quickly)

This kind of setting is like the end of London is Edinburgh, and Sherlock feels like rushing all the way to Watson's arms

In the dark

All in all, this article is about the adventure (adventure) experience (entanglement) of vampire Sherlock Holmes and human Watson

Finally, persistently ask for comments, favorites, and version chats (Huh?