Sherlock's Kiss [Fuhua Vampire Colleague]

Sherlock opened his eyes.

He remembered that he had broken an arm.

He turned his head among the piles of barrels, and he could just make out that he was lying in the dark and dusty warehouse where the food was stored, and he saw him awake through the boarded-up windows. The timing was actually during the day, he wasn't sure how many days and nights he had been in a coma, anyway he was extremely tired.

"John..." He said softly, the voice was so soft that even he could not hear clearly, he coughed, his internal bleeding was much better, but there was still a fishy-sweet taste of blood in his mouth, which made him sick, "John... "He cried weakly, and he found himself wanting to cry.

He rested for a while, thinking at the same time, or trying to think, he thought with a confused brain, his doctor may not be dead, he may be... lucky like him, just broke a few bones , Sherlock pursed his lips tightly, he was still very weak and could not move, his vision suddenly blurred, he felt tears were about to come out of his eyes, the train was going fast at that time, the field was full of hard rocks, it should be Dead.

Sherlock raised the back of his head angrily, and smashed it on the ground made of iron sheets, but he still hasn't seen his body yet!Why are you crying in such a hurry!Sherlock held back his tears, and he firmly believed in the belief that John Watson did not die.

Moriarty didn't let Sherlock die completely on the roof of the car. It seems that Moriarty didn't come to kill him. It should be like this extremely evil elder said, he was only here to torture Sherlock and let him tear him apart. Heartbroken.

Sherlock felt that he couldn't lie here until he fully recovered, that time would be too long, he turned his head and looked at his left side, the broken part was slowly growing flesh, the healing process was so slow and difficult, Sherlock doesn't know how long it will take to grow back a new arm completely, because he has never been ripped off an arm, if only he could sit up, Sherlock's mouth is dry He was dry, his throat was about to smoke, and both of his stomachs were empty, which made him feel very tired.

It would be even better if it didn’t hurt so much. Sherlock gritted his teeth and endured the same pain as when he lost his heart. The pain nerves and touch nerves of the vampires are no different from those of humans. It just hurt a little, Moriarty opened his eyes, Sherlock calmed down from the resentment and anger, he thought for a while, thinking about what he should do in the future, he must kill Moriarty, otherwise he His dominance position will be completely taken away by this elder, and he will have to stay in this warehouse forever and serve him like a dog.

Sherlock lay thirsty on the dusty ground, imagining his counterattack plan after regaining his strength, but after a while, he didn't know whether it was minutes or hours, he couldn't think about it anymore, he just Being able to think about his own pain, the rigorous planning in his mind was replaced by his pain, and as long as he gasped for breath, the sharp pain would hit him in bursts. "John..." He whispered the name, he could only recall the name at the moment, he remembered in that dark wing, the day he lost his heart, his doctor used the hot and delicious blood to relieve his pain pain.

At that time, he scratched lightly with his nails, and the fragile skin on John Watson's neck began to bleed. He greedily caught the fresh liquid that quenched his hunger and thirst with his lips. Surging, the doctor's blood is sweet, with high temperature, and his unique breath of life in it, Sherlock kept imagining the tenderness of the past in his heart, and he hoped that these warm and beautiful memories would make him feel better , but in fact, his pain did not ease, and the more he thought about it, the more sad he became.His John was missing, what happened, he was still bleeding profusely, the floor behind his spine was wet and sticky, and he was starting to feel dizzy from the amount of blood loss.

If he was recovering, why was he still bleeding?Suddenly, Sherlock was frightened.Maybe he won't last long, maybe he can't heal at all, can't stand up as proudly as before, and never have the chance to kill Moriarty, maybe he can only wait for the blood to run dry die later.

He is obviously so excellent and so strong, but at this moment he is lying here like a piece of rag helplessly struggling in pain, as long as there is a little bit of warm blood, even if there is only a mouthful of blood from a living person, he will be fine But now he has nothing, Sherlock gritted his teeth, gathered all his strength, and wanted to get up, but he screamed immediately, he wanted to move, but the sharp pain was like a hot knife, stabbing Penetrating his body, a sudden sharp pain ran through him, driving all his thoughts, hopes and fears away, leaving only the pain.

Sherlock's throat screamed again, screaming silently, the severe pain almost tore his throat, he immediately lay on the spot and couldn't move any more, his whole body twitched, he could feel his heart becoming bigger It was usually slower, almost stopped, and there was no need to stir for a few minutes. Sherlock suddenly noticed the existence of his left arm, but when he wanted to lift it up, he realized that it was an illusion. His The left arm had already left him, maybe it was still hanging on the roof of the car and turned into thick smoke by the scorching sun.

There was no response, just silence.

He stayed up groggy from day to night, and night was his time, but he was still listless in dizziness, unable to cheer up, his wounds healed very, very slowly, and he was in a trance and hazy consciousness. He heard a slight sound in the room, the sound was very weak, a bit like an auditory hallucination, and he listened more carefully.

Sherlock felt that he did hear a human voice. He opened his eyes in the darkness without any lights. He heard the sound of the car window being smashed slightly, and then the upper board was broken from the outside by a pale and strong finger. Figures rushed in, no, there were two in total, one of them was Mycroft, Sherlock felt his body being held up by his brother, his vision was blurred, and he was dizzy for a while under the impact of severe pain dazzled.

It was not too late for his brother to appear, Mycroft knelt on one knee in a pool of his blood, Sherlock leaned his head weakly on his shoulder, enduring the pain.

"I really don't know where to start, Sherlock." My brother said in a low voice.

"Hmph, me too..." Sherlock squeezed his strength to sarcastically, his breathing was extremely weak, but his tone still maintained his unique dignity, gentle, noble and charming, "John..."

Mycroft shook his head and said, "My heart was always worried about the train and you. After he crashed, I didn't pay attention."

Sherlock licked his dry lips. He saw Lestrade kneeling on the other side of him with a resolute face. He seemed to have a determination to die. Sherlock looked at him, and suddenly there was no sound in the warehouse. , Sherlock tensed his face instantly, he heard Lestrade's inner voice, Sherlock said, "I don't..."

"Brother, you must do it! Greg won't die!"

"You want me to drink Lestrade's blood!"

"Yes, Sherlock, after drinking his blood, you will heal faster and get out of trouble faster. I'm afraid you don't know that you have been in a coma for a few days, and it has been a full 10 days. I can't imagine how you are not here. If you survived for 10 days without blood loss, the elder made all the vampires on the train submit to him on the night you were injured. These vampires were lifted by him from the taboo of blood-sucking and killing, and they became free to do whatever they wanted , more than 100 blood races on this train united to expel me, Erin and Jielin were under his control, even Jasmine could not resist him, Mrs. Hudson fled the train and has been missing, I took my Gray Ge fought a bloody road and escaped from the hands of the elders. To tell you the truth, I was also injured. I have been lurking near the train for 10 days, just to find the time for them to relax, and come to see them unhindered like this. You." Mycroft said, "Sherlock, I will try my best to rescue you, I need you to suffer a little more, just like when I was a child, you wait for me, I will definitely rescue you."

"No, this is not important. If the elder leaves me alone for a day, my strength will always recover, but John..."

"You can't even take care of yourself! You still think about an ordinary human being!"

Sherlock looked at his brother and said hoarsely, "The wilderness outside...is very harsh, the ground is covered with rocks, for an ordinary human being, falling down is like going to hell, go, help me Find him, confirm his life and death, so that I can be completely at ease, I felt that the Scarlet Rebirth hadn't sailed very far during the half-dream and half-awake coma, if you can't find John...please come back and tell me the news..." Xia Locke suddenly said sadly, "Now I can't go forward to implement this myself, I can only rely on you, Mycroft, you know what kind of life I have been living, and I have seen many horrible things. things, and have done countless terrible things, especially when I saw that elder, no evil can compare to it, and he proved it to me with his own hands, yes, he proved it with practical actions a little."

His eyes were fixed on Mycroft, a distant, deep and mournful gaze, as if he were looking at something, and he felt that he saw John Watson on the dark ceiling. , He kept staring in that direction, as if looking at an extremely beautiful thing.

Sherlock paused.

After the short silence lingered in the air for a moment, Mycroft wrapped his arms around him. "I can't stay long, my Sherlock, my dear brother," Mycroft said in a low voice. It turned into a whisper, "This train has become a slaughterhouse, there are corpses everywhere, no human can have good luck here, I sneaked through the aisle of the carriage, and the aisle was full of corpses , whether it is in the wing room or outside the wing room, there are all corpses, torn to pieces, blood flowing into rivers outside, piled up with arms and legs, and fragmentary remains, all of which are fragmented. Too many people died An unimaginable amount, Sherlock, I’m afraid you will be very angry when you see it. So, you can’t, stay here anymore, you have to rely on your strength to cheer up, come on, Greg is ready.”

Sherlock raised his eyes and looked straight at Lestrade with his dark blue eyes. There was something gloomy and heavy in Sherlock's heart, which was difficult to interpret. He himself was surprised to find that he was trembling.

"Sherlock," Lestrade said softly, responding to his gaze, "you are not trying to kill me. When I reach my limit, Mycroft will stop everything. You have no choice. In this case, there is no choice at all, you can't continue to lie here bleeding, it will only waste your energy and your precious time, so, Sherlock, I plead with Mycroft for you, you Brace yourselves, save this train again, stop the horrible killings, and me and your brother, go out into the world outside the train and find your doctor, it won't be too hard, dead or alive, it will only take a few days Find his condition and whereabouts, we will do our best, and you must do the same. Come on, drink my blood, restore your full strength, challenge the demon, fight him, he is tempting and forcing the car with blood All the vampires in the world surrender, you have to get them back on track, just like before, stop the slaughter of humans, defeat Moriarty, Sherlock, although he is strong and ancient, whoever he is, you have to be again Leader of the blood clan, you can no longer hesitate, you must take action immediately, otherwise the Scarlet Rebirth will become a bloody ruin, a grave, and all your efforts will be burned and turned into ashes."

Sherlock stared straight at him, forced a weak smile, "You promised, help me find John."

"Yes, once there is news about him, we will try to give you a signal."

"Come on, Sherlock." Lestrade rolled up the sleeves on his arms, put his bare wrist to his dry lips, and urged him, "Hurry up, Sherlock, before the elder finds us Sip me before my tracks."

Sherlock stared into his eyes. This time, Mycroft and Lestrade won. He and Lestrade looked at each other for tens of seconds. Finally, Sherlock opened his mouth suddenly, and his sharp fangs Teeth appeared on the outside of his lips, he panted hoarsely, and pierced Lestrade's fragile pulse with his long and hard teeth, Lestrade whimpered in pain, and soon calmed down, his expression Caught in a kind of dream, his knees were weak, and he sat down in a pool of Sherlock's blood, unable to exert any more strength, trapped in the illusion of being sucked into the emptiness.

Sherlock closed his eyes and concentrated on sucking the warm fresh human blood. There was a dead silence in the whole warehouse, only the sound of his sucking was left, and he swallowed gurglingly in his throat, only the thick plasma could be heard. The movement through his esophagus.

He could feel the intense changes taking place in his body. Every time he swallowed a mouthful of scalding blood, he felt that he was getting stronger again, and his sense of fullness gradually increased. His other finger was twitching violently. Sherlock suddenly opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He could feel that every minute, every second, his sight became clearer and clearer. He could see more clearly in the dark. He had such a change, he thought, if he didn’t feel guilty and disgusted as soon as he drank blood, he would definitely recover faster, and the life-bearing human blood really made him feel upset and guilty, making him feel that he was a It's just a beast without a soul, but he still persisted at this moment, drinking blood continuously in his mouth, the blood flowed through the root canals on his fangs, sucked into his mouth, flowed through his tongue and throat, This thing will make him stronger.

He could feel the effect, he had a broken arm, and he couldn't stop the bleeding, but all this shit was improving, and he wasn't going to die, absolutely not.

John, I can't die, and neither can you.

He is recovering.

He knew and firmly believed that Mycroft and Lestrade had promised him that they would find John Watson, whether he lived or died.

Sherlock raised his single arm, pressed his nails into Lestrade's wrist, tightened him, bit him hard, sucking like a baby desperately, he is recovering, he is so close to health, Xia Locke's severed limb was itching, he heard his skin grow and creak, he was about to get a new arm, Moriarty wanted to take his dream away, loot him for nothing, He has lost a lot when he was young, but now, he is about to recover, and he wants to regain his dream!

The blood with life energy made him heal so quickly, the pain was brief, faded, collapsed, his bleeding was over, and Sherlock had a hand growing out of one side, it was small and soft , only half formed, protruding from his shoulders, like a sprouting sapling, the flesh continued to increase, the skin on the small hand hardened, and then the hand began to grow, the skin was cracking, he heard The sound of the flesh growing was a bit like the sound of tree bark cracking, the little hand stretched out, and a thick blood-red liquid oozed out, and then the liquid dried in the air, and the pink skin on the hand cracked again, Peel off to reveal the new flesh underneath, which turns into hard muscle.

This happened repeatedly, Sherlock frowned, the blood gushing from Lestrade's wrist became less, he had to suck it up harder, Lestrade lowered his head weakly in front of him, Mai Croft pinched Sherlock's chin and ordered in a low voice, "It's time to let go, Sherlock."

Sherlock tried hard, trying to pull out his fangs, but the hunger and thirst controlled him, he greedily sucked the incomparably delicious liquid, every mouthful made him stronger, made him feel happy and full.

Mycroft exerted a little force and lifted his chin. Sherlock was screaming furiously in his bloody throat and couldn't stop. He stuck out his tongue and stuck it on Lestrade's bleeding wrist, forehead and neck. My veins were bulging all over my body, and Mycroft said anxiously, "Stop it! Use your reason! If this continues, Greg will die!"

Sherlock clenched his intact fist and slammed it fiercely on the ground. He ordered himself to get out of Lestrade's delicious blood vessels quickly. Coughing endlessly, but his fangs still didn't loosen at all, as if they were rooted deep in Lestrade's skin, Sherlock opened his eyes again, staring blankly at the sky, his nose was full of fishy smell, he could barely Self-control, this smell is terrible, it completely controlled Sherlock's thoughts and his willpower, Sherlock slammed the ground again, with a painful expression on his face, Lestrade was dying on his lips.

Sherlock was struggling in the blood, he felt the trace of the weak, thin liquid slipping from the tip of his tongue, and slowly flowing into his stomach, he felt that he was about to fall into the eighteenth level of hell, he couldn't control himself Anger surged up in his heart, John Watson's face flashed before his eyes, Sherlock screamed hoarsely because of this, he tried his best to support his body, his head shrank back, and his fangs finally came out of Lestrade's mouth. Pulling / coming out / out of his blood, a few drops of blood fell to the ground along his pale human wrist.

Sherlock panted violently, raised his newly grown arm, and gasped heavily for his chest. He leaned on the barrel and looked back at Lestrade. He had already passed out. Mycroft was Hugging his beloved servant tightly, staring at Sherlock, he frowned unhappily, his eyes contained anger, pity, and more distress and worry.

Sherlock raised his new arm and looked at it in surprise. His slender, white fingers were not flexible enough, but they were exactly the same as the original one. No one could see what happened to his hand.

Sherlock was really amazed at this moment.

"My brother, next, it's up to you, I have to move Greg to a safe place, where the elder will never find it, and then I will go to your doctor, please be strong , live longer, I hope we have a chance to meet again."

Sherlock sat in the shadows, nodding gratefully.

Mycroft hugged Lestrade and jumped into the night from the shattered car window. Sherlock was still sitting alone in the warehouse. To test the strength of his arm, Sherlock stood up with the barrel, still somewhat reluctantly, but compared to a few hours, it was tens of thousands of times better than that poor bastard on the floor like dying in a hospital bed.

The nails could not grow from the new fingers for the time being. Sherlock took off his torn coat and was only wearing a thin white shirt. He pushed open the door of the wing and bumped into the wall of the corridor. Sherlock couldn't help but once again He slid down and knelt on the iron aisle on one knee. He gritted his teeth and stood up again. He was still a little short of fresh human blood, but he didn't want to ask for more from Lestrade, so that was enough. .

Sherlock leaned on the wall and walked forward. He walked to the cab and pushed open the glass door of the cab. He looked at Jasmine Amber, and Jasmine Amber also looked at him with an expression of disbelief.

Sherlock stretched out his arms to hug her, and Jasmine hugged him tightly. After hugging her for a while, Sherlock sat wearily in the chair in the driver's cab, and Jasmine sneaked away from the front of the car. When she came back, she had more A new set of clothes and a plate of simple food that low class people would eat. She put all these things on the small square table. As if Jasmine suddenly remembered, she immediately turned around and took out a walnut log from under the driver's seat. The cane, held in both hands, was quietly passed to Sherlock's eyes.

Sherlock stared at the cane for a long time, his lips tightly pursed into a straight line, he slowly raised his finger, and touched it on the wooden cane, the right-angled handle was engraved with the initials of John Watson, which was familiar The touch of the wood made him feel another stabbing pain in his heart. He grabbed the crutch tightly and held it in the palm of his hand, his eyes were burning with anger.

Sherlock ordered her to slow down calmly, and then took off the rotten clothes soaked in blood, exposing his pale back and long bare/naked legs in front of Jasmine's eyes, Sherlock turned back and gave her a silent look, Jasmine's attention The strength was concentrated on his newborn arm, and there was still a faint fracture scar left on his shoulder, which would completely disappear within half an hour.

Sherlock put on a new white shirt, elegantly passed his arms through the sleeves, buttoned up the buttons, and then put on new trousers. He opened the door of the driver's cab and placed the crutch on his shoulders imposingly. On the road, walking out swaggeringly, Jasmine called him, Sherlock didn't turn his head back to her, but just raised his hand and gestured with his back to her, to reassure her.

Sherlock passed the carriages ahead, kicked open the carriage door, lit a match, held a candle, and watched the group of strangers locked in the carriage. He had never seen this group of people, but it was not difficult to guess them. How was it kidnapped to this car? Sebastian Moran has two hardworking men. They must be responsible for arresting these poor and innocent human beings along the way, and then imprisoning them here. Everyone’s hands and feet They are all in shackles, every face is full of despair, the whole room is dirty and smelly, like a herd of livestock locked here, Sherlock frowned and glanced at them, the group of people looked at him in panic, even shouting for help Don't dare, like a dying sheep, sitting in the slaughterhouse waiting to be slaughtered.

Sherlock bent down, left the candle in front of their eyes, lit their hope, left the door open, and kept going, Sherlock felt sick and more angry, at least three cars were locked up like this Locks, imprisoning the poor flock, Sherlock knew that by night, they would be eaten.These were all live food stored by Moriarty. He kicked open one car door after another, and placed one candle after another before the eyes of these humans.

He suddenly stopped in front of a car door, looking at a corpse hanging upside down on the car door, Sherlock looked at this human corpse that had been drained of blood instead of being drained, walked over, stretched Reaching out, he lightly touched the body that had lost its soul and life. The body shook slightly under the cold moonlight, and a stench of rotting corpses invaded the depths of his nostrils. Sherlock stared at the severed body of the body. Throat, his blood flowed cleanly from this gap, as if someone used his blood to wash the floor, the ground and iron steps were full of dried blood.

Sherlock walked on, determined in his heart, the aisle was not much different from what Mycroft described, his brother was not exaggerating at all, his stumps were torn apart, mutilated beyond recognition in all sorts of bizarre ways, random Abandoned in the aisle, Sherlock kicked away a few arms that were covered in maggots, and the dark blue night mist seeped into the fire dragon. As he strode forward, various bloody scenes always appeared in front of Sherlock suddenly, Sherlock was always on guard in his heart, no matter what hideous and frightening thing appeared in front of his eyes in the next second, it would not be able to scare him away.

He clenched his cane tightly.

He came to the banquet hall, anger was like a fire, burning him, Sherlock walked into the hall full of disgust, the scene was even more miserable, the luxurious carpet was full of corpses and fragments, soaked in blood, The carpet was soaked, Sherlock stepped on it, as if stepping on wet mud, traces of bloodthirsty could be seen everywhere, blood was splashed on the sterling silver mirror, tables were overturned on the ground, and Sherlock walked to an unopened table. On the overturned table, there was a human head on a silver dinner plate. Sherlock stood quietly on the human head that had been grabbed by sharp claws. No matter, the head's eyes were closed tightly, and his cold and bloodless face was facing Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock was in this head, in the dark hall without a candle, in the mist, motionless, he reached out, picked up a silver cup, looked down into the cup, even though the hall was dark, Sherlock could also clearly see that the liquid inside was black and viscous, and it was half solidified. He tilted the cup, and the blood inside slowly flowed out, falling on his feet, and the flow was very slow.

He threw away the cup angrily, didn't stay any longer, and continued to walk forward numbly, filled with disgust in his heart. What he saw told him that the elder who had lived for thousands of years, the devil who climbed up from hell, How crazy Moriarty is, every picture in the car tells Sherlock how cruel Moriarty is.

In a sense, Sherlock felt that it was all his fault, that he had attracted this ghost, that he had indirectly made hundreds of innocent human victims in the car, in shackles, Facing a candle that could be extinguished at any time, he was stunned, not knowing how to escape.

In the end, Sherlock walked through a ghostly bloody road like hell, and stood in the last carriage, standing at the door of his wing. He raised his head, and the luxurious wood-carving ceiling was still the same, but it was stained with blackened human blood.

Sherlock put his hand on the doorknob, pressed it, it was unlocked, Sherlock opened the door with a blank expression, and walked in.

Warm candles were lit in the wing room, and a figure was standing in front of the car window with a goblet to watch the moonlight outside. Even without the winged cloak on his body, Sherlock could recognize him immediately .

Moriarty said calmly: "It took you 10 days, Holmes, and you are not as powerful as the rumors said. The other Holmes came for a while and left without saying hello to me. You just drank human blood, so I feel sure." so gorgeous."

Sherlock didn't answer, just stared at him quietly.

Moriarty was unusually quiet, and he also turned his gaze around, pinching Sherlock tightly.

Sherlock can feel the power of those eyes, those eyeballs are as dark as a cliff, are dragging him, trying to drag him into the bottomless abyss, his eyes are tearing Sherlock's soul apart, behind those eyes There is only death, blood and horror, and the endless and empty night.

"Soon, Holmes, I will make you exactly like me, both in body and soul." Moriarty smiled and took a sip of the wine in his glass.

Sherlock slammed his cane on the floor with all the force of his resentment.

The author has something to say:

Please believe me, Xiaohua will definitely be thick on the day of chapter 38

Then the story has to change the scene (sweet sweet taffy can't miss you)

Thank you for every comment on children's shoes, I read them all, you have such a big brain hole

You should be able to imagine what I plan to do to Xiaohua (you will be right)

Some children's shoes expressed the hope that Xiaoxia would spoil Huahua lawlessly (Hey, Xiaohua is already arrogant enough and has been out of tune/teaching, please)

Please wait for me to update tomorrow