Sherlock's Kiss [Fuhua Vampire Colleague]

What Old Watson thought in his heart was that Sherlock was by no means an ordinary kind, and he would destroy everything his son had. He had the same thoughts as John Watson's grandmother and his wife.

It seems that Sherlock only returned John Watson temporarily this time, and sooner or later he would blatantly take John Watson on his journey.

Old Watson was sitting opposite the dining chair, watching the scene of Sherlock and John Watson sitting side by side vigilantly. The eldest grandmother in the family originally demanded strongly to send Sherlock away, but when she saw Sherlock himself, she was like a king. Standing in the room, no one could give him an order to get away.

But when Sherlock was sitting and eating, everyone was strongly wanting Sherlock to leave this warm and peaceful little home as soon as possible, and praying that he would be merciful to let John Watson stay. Old Watson really Want to slap the table and jump up, growl angrily, spray saliva on Sherlock's face, and throw him out the door.

But these words were swirling around his lips, and as soon as he saw Sherlock Holmes' foggy eyes that were extremely powerful, old Watson had to swallow all the subtext, which left a pain in his tongue. An inexplicable taste, he admitted, he was afraid of this monster of unknown origin.

As for John Watson's grandmother, sitting at the head of the table, she put on a menacing posture, trying to stare Sherlock away with her eyes.

John Watson carefully felt the complex and intertwined atmosphere at the dining table. He tasted his soup with a spoon and heard himself making a sucking sound, only to realize that all conversations had stopped.

During the hours of Sherlock's slumber, Old Watson performed a medical examination on John Watson, a retired doctor who was once well-known in the City of London, and was helpless about his son's eyes.

John Watson didn't blame his father, he didn't blame anyone but Moriarty.

He wished he could tell everything to his family, discuss, explain, persuade and answer all their doubts and questions together.But the matter is too complicated, he has not thought of how to start, first of all, if Sherlock is a creature that sucks human blood for a living, the reaction of the family members must be to throw the chair and run out to find the priest, and then carry the torch And back with the ax to drive off his friends.

As for Sherlock, he was eating in a low-key and silent manner. The knife in his hand deftly sliced ​​through the steak. No one could eat more gracefully than him.

John Watson could hear him eating slowly and silently, but John Watson had to stop awkwardly from time to time, fumble for the food on the plate with a knife and fork, and struggled to use the fork accurately to stuff it into his mouth.

His mother always looked at this scene with distress. She felt that her son was going to be an incurable blind man for the rest of his life.

The candlelight was lit and shaken in the middle of the dining table, adding a ray of active light to the awkward, stiff and suspiciously gloomy atmosphere among the people.

Sherlock picked up the water glass and took a sip of clear water. He frowned and showed an expression that was almost a wry smile.

Sherlock put down his glass and wiped his mouth with a napkin in his long white hands.

"This rain is not very fresh." Sherlock said suddenly.

"What?" John Watson asked beside him, tilting his head.

Sherlock picked up the glass and shook it, "My glass is probably filled with holy water from the church."

"Yes! It's holy water! I went to ask the priest in the church to ask for it!" Granny said sharply, "Your intestines must be rotten by now!"

Sherlock smiled slightly, "My stomach is very good, I can digest everything except gold, silver, copper and iron."

Grandma's expression turned from surprise to gloomy, and she muttered angrily: "How could it fail? The priest lied to me?" Grandma shook her head vigorously, and then said unwillingly: "I don't care what you are! I just want to tell you After dinner tonight, I want you to stay away from my baby John! Got it?"

"I understand how you feel, but I won't agree with you."

The storm seemed to be hovering over the dining table, and Grandma's eyes were like a burning boiler, about to burst into flames in anger.

John Watson hurriedly smoothed things over. When he spoke, he had a strange and solemn expression on his face, "I voluntarily go with him," John Watson only insisted on repeating this sentence, "I am willing to go with him."

As if John Watson suddenly remembered, he added, "I didn't go out with him this time for fun. I decided to find Harriet and bring her home."

"My God." Tears welled up in Mom's eyes immediately, "Is she still alive?"

John Watson nodded vigorously, and said affirmatively: "Yes, my mother, Harriet is still alive, I promise Sherlock and I will save her from the bad guys, forgive me for this, mother .”

"Here again, silly boy, why do you trust him so much? Maybe he is also an accomplice of the bad guys! Tell me, who is he?" Grandma asked.

"As you have guessed, I am a vampire, which is what you understand as a vampire. I am bloodthirsty by nature." Sherlock's sudden confession made John Watson almost drop the dinner plate, and the old Watson took a deep breath across the table. Tone, no one dared to speak for a while.

John Watson, in particular, sat very upright.

Although father, mother, and grandma had already somewhat doubted Sherlock in this direction, they were shocked when they learned the truth.

The restaurant was surprisingly quiet. John Watson heard the faint sound of horseshoe carts on the street outside. The wheels of the carriage rolled over the stone and brick path on the street and drove away into the distance. The silence remained deadlocked at the dining table.

Then, old Watson poured himself a glass of red wine, he drank it all in one gulp, and quickly drank another glass to calm his blood pressure that was about to explode. He frowned: "Sorry, what did you just say?" His The reaction is a bit slow, and this slowness can often be reflected in John Watson.

Sherlock stretched out his hand, picked up the water glass, and drank all the holy water in it in one go, then he showed a charming and warm smile, and said softly, "I am a people of the night, but I grew up among humans since I was a child." , I like human beings, I also like the way humans think and your way of life, I look very similar to you, of course these patterns of mine were not born like this, I slowly learned behavior from you It can be said that I learned the set of poses, my knowledge, and even my moral concepts from you humans. For our race, you humans are just waiting to be eaten one after another. Animals, in fact we eat everything, plants, vegetables, animals, we chew anything when we are hungry to the limit, but you talking and thinking animals are the ultimate delicacy for us, you are always Our favorite, whether you agree with it or not, becomes food."

Sherlock paused for a moment, his eyes were full of vigor and temptation, and he locked on to old Watson, like a cheetah watching a fat and strong little zebra in the field, causing old Watson's back to feel a twitch momentarily. tight.

Sherlock continued, "But anyway, we still like to suck human blood the most. For many blood races, animals are animals. Maybe you don't think so, because you think you are higher than cows and sheep, but in In our eyes, our nature is to kill and eat, but your nature is to be killed and eaten. You are full of fear of us whether you wake up or sleep, and many animals also innocently believe that the cross and holy water can Sanction us, but I will not be destroyed as easily as the priest said. Yes, old Mrs. Watson, you have been deceived by the ignorant priest."

Sherlock's pupils were like a large piece of polished black diamond, set in the middle of soft gray, shining brightly. While speaking, he took out a small glass flask, and John Watson heard the light at the bottom of the bottle. The sound of knocking on the dining table, the mysterious wine bottle looked gloomy under the light, the color of the wine was similar to blood, and there was a terrible sweet smell in the thick.Sherlock put the wine bottle upright under the eyes of everyone, and then scanned everyone one by one, everyone at the table.

If only John Watson could see, Sherlock's expression was full of strength, focus and determination.

very charming

"What is this?" Old Watson asked Sherlock in a hoarse voice. He seemed cautious and confused, and he was a little scared. His understanding of Sherlock was far less than that of John Watson. In his opinion, Sherlock Very dangerous and elusive.

Sherlock smiled, with a cold light in his eyes, the iris was extremely delicate, with a little touch of gold, old Watson had experienced the power in his pupils, and Sherlock could devour everyone with these eyes He didn't dare to look at Sherlock stupidly like last time, and then he was easily manipulated. Old Watson quickly retracted his gaze. This move made Sherlock reveal an unfathomable smile. .

Sherlock's eyes reflected the candlelight, he leaned on the back of the dining chair, lifted the wine bottle, unscrewed it, and placed it next to his beautiful lips to sip, with a "gulp" swallowing sound in his throat, greedy and thirsty Swallowing, just like what he is drinking at the moment is blood.

John Watson felt cold and nervous when he heard the voice. Sherlock would only drink when he wanted to suck blood. There was only one reason for him to pick up the bottle, and that was because he was really thirsty. John Watson felt a little Panting, without seeing Sherlock, he couldn't know Sherlock's true feelings.

Old Watson watched him swallow the mysterious liquor abruptly and frantically, and felt that he was abnormally pale, paler than the last second, with thick black hair, wearing a tight black suit, like a ghost.

Sherlock put the dried wine bottle on the table and said calmly: "This is a wine that can relieve the blood desire in my body. I hope that all blood races will drink this wine. The reason why I am honest with you is , it’s not that I want to defend myself, just because you are John’s family, I have to tell you what kind of person John is following, I have to let you know not only my identity, but also my true inner self What kind of person is in it? I can go into more detail. This wine contains not only blood, but also other ingredients. All in all, the current manufacturing process of this wine does not need to harm a living person. Hunger, it frees me, it keeps me from killing people."

John Watson pinched the knife and fork. Sherlock was indeed different to his family and John Watson. He didn't show off too much why he had to work so hard to get rid of the shackles of hunger and thirst. Those who wanted to establish day and night Sherlock didn't say a word about the brilliant dream of trusting each other, but he was eloquent about it in front of John Watson, and now he doesn't say anything.

John Watson thought that Sherlock probably felt that his parents and his grandmother would not understand the meaning of Sherlock's passionate dream.

Old Watson didn't say a word, he neither asked about the ingredients of the wine, nor questioned Sherlock's behavior, he just stared at Sherlock silently, the night outside the window was peaceful and peaceful, the windows of the restaurant were open and the curtains were falling Floating lazily in the night wind, Sherlock once took John Watson away in front of that window.

After the embarrassing dinner, John Watson and Sherlock stood in the backyard.Sherlock stood with his back straight in the light of the stars and the moon, staring fixedly at Hyde Park in the distance.John Watson's field of vision was still an empty blackness, and he didn't know it. At this moment, Sherlock turned his head and looked at him, with strong desire floating in his pupils, his hunger burning in his pupils, Bright red.

His expression was like a waking beast. His hands were folded behind him, and his nails suddenly grew several inches. Sherlock strongly suppressed the sudden rush of blood and thirst, and pointed at John Watson's neck. Licking his lips secretly, and quickly overcoming his greed with willpower, Sherlock tried hard to make the scarlet in his pupils recede and dissipate, and his nails slowly retracted.

John Watson knew nothing about the episode.

Once he lost the supervision of his family, his conversation with Sherlock became free, and his conversation voice was low and warm.

The old Watson standing in the window couldn't hear what they were talking about. There seemed to be endless talk between John Watson and Sherlock. Old Watson only heard a few key words, train, revenge, elders, McCaw Loft, Harley Yeh.

Their expressions are sometimes serious and sometimes happy. Old Watson is confused. His silly son who never confides in others is so open in front of Sherlock. He looks very happy and laughs from time to time. He was surprised, and after a while, something even more terrifying happened. Several little bats circled around Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock stretched his haughty fingers into the air, and fiddled with the little heads of the bats, as if conveying something to them. What instruction, the little bat that seemed to have spirituality hovered on the roof of Watson's house, was instantly involved in the moonlight, and left in the distance in a dark shadow.

They chatted very late in the yard. When John Watson returned to the living room to look for a drink before going to bed, the old Watson was about to doze off at the desk and fell down. He walked to the foot of the stairs while John Watson was not paying attention. Locke stood there quietly, waiting for his son.

Old Watson walked closer to him, lowered his voice, and avoided John Watson, "Tell me honestly, how long have you been hungry?"

Sherlock was surprised by his question, and soon, his surprise calmed down, and he said flatly, "It's been too long."

"Have you not been full for a long time?"

"exactly."

These words made old Watson feel a burst of fear, his whole body turned cold, his eyes were as hollow as glass, and he looked at the expression on Sherlock's face.

No matter how similar Sherlock's appearance is to humans, the nose is the nose and the eyes are the eyes, but old Watson can always perceive that he is indeed a non-human creature, he is just different from humans.

There was a strange but suppressed desire in his icy foggy eyes.

"You have killed people, you have sucked blood, I can imagine what you will do when you see hot blood, I am a writer, I am best at imagination, I can imagine what you have done Evil thing, I swear I can clearly describe your blood-sucking expression," Old Watson trembled, half out of anger, half out of fear, he felt some kind of intense scarlet spreading in Sherlock's eyes, that The scarlet was fleeting, if old Watson hadn't been careful and sensitive enough, he would have hardly noticed it.

"Yes, but it's really disgusting," Sherlock said coldly, "I don't know what kind of legends you've heard, but I don't like killing people and sucking blood, it's true."

"I do not believe you."

"Sooner or later you will believe it."

Old Watson could only stand in front of him like a powerless prisoner, as if struck by lightning. He wanted to object, but he couldn't say anything. Old Watson was trembling. He was angry, and his mouth was tightly shut. Yes, the veins on his neck burst out, and his eyes were fierce, like ice picks.

"You don't want to take my son away again." He said hoarsely, almost pleading.

"I'm afraid I can't do what you want."

After Sherlock finished speaking, he went upstairs silently and went back to John Watson's room. His back was like a messenger from hell, mysterious, gloomy, weird, and pale.There is nothing against the hard and firm force in Sherlock's eyes, old Watson thought, no.

He sat downstairs until three o'clock in the morning, and John Watson was sleeping obediently in Harriet's room, perhaps snoring.

Old Watson kept recalling that face, the dominating expression, cold, hazy, gentle and cruel.Old Watson was turning a sterling silver knife in his hand, and he stared at the blade for a long time.

Suddenly, he felt a surge of energy and blood. He heard a slight knock on the door of Harriet's room. The sound of John Watson tapping his cane echoed weakly in the corridor on the second floor. If he hadn't listened attentively , Old Watson almost ignored the sneaky noise.

Looking up from the desk in the living room, he heard the door open and close in a room on the second floor, the room where Sherlock rested, and John Watson entered in the middle of the night in this silence.

He couldn't help guessing what absurd things John Watson and Sherlock would do in the same room, causing danger and humiliation to Watson's family. He had heard that there were many peasants torn apart by wild beasts in the distant countryside. He suddenly connected the beast with Sherlock. He thought that the wild beast was the same kind of Sherlock. Screaming miserably under the broken belly, Sherlock is a vampire keen to taste warm blood.

He also has thousands of other clansmen, one is more terrifying than the other, and the other is more vicious than the other. Even if their faces are covered with charming smiles, even if they have elegant speech and gorgeous clothes, they can't hide their animal nature at all. .

Old Watson turned his head and looked at the empty wine bottle left by Sherlock. Sherlock was not ashamed, and promised him that this small amount of medicinal wine could suppress the blood desire of vampires to live on human blood. Old Watson couldn't believe it. It's true, no matter how sincere Sherlock says, no matter how much his foolish son trusts this alien, in the eyes of old Watson, he is always a monster, and who can really believe that what comes from the mouth of the ogre is true? The words spoken, the more beautiful, the more dangerous.

He suddenly stood up from the chair, holding the knife in his hand, and walked upstairs slowly, step by step, until he reached the door of John Watson's small room. He held his breath and eavesdropped outside the door. Listen to the movement inside.

He didn't hear anything, old Watson raised his hand, and his whole body was completely lying on the door leaf, then he unscrewed the unlocked door in panic, and rushed in, the room was empty, only the curtains were left The window fluttered, and old Watson immediately ran into the small bedroom, and knocked over a small chair halfway because of his panic. He put his arms on the window frame and looked out.

He could only see a forest at the end of the park. John Watson and the beast had disappeared somewhere on the horizon. They left almost silently and on purpose.

Old Watson looked down at his hands and found that the knife was gone. It had fallen on the floor when he opened the door in a panic just now. John Watson's mother was standing behind him in a shawl with red eyes. , with the same expression as him, melancholy, worried, and helpless.

"He is always going to leave. His heart is no longer in this family. He is in love with that vampire."

"My stupid son." Old Watson muttered and scolded.

"What's going to happen to my John? Will he live? Will he be happy? Will Sherlock let him come home?" Mom repeated softly, full of untold sorrow, but she didn't have a single tear Falling down, as if any accidental tear was an admission that John Watson would have a tragic end.

Old Watson could only clearly hear his own breathing and the sound of his heart beating in his chest. He said honestly, "I don't know, Sherlock is a monster, and he confessed that he had killed people, but I still I feel a little sympathetic to him. I really don't know if I should sympathize with him. Maybe I should kill him. Maybe this is the only thing a father should do. But then I can't see John chatting with him in the yard. that smile."

Old Watson sighed, then hugged his wife's shoulders and escorted her back to her room to sleep, "Now we can only resign ourselves to fate."

That night, Sherlock and John Watson left London and arrived at an inconspicuous border town. It would not be too difficult for Sherlock to cross a small city in a short time. Jumping over is as simple and fun as a game to him.

In this moderately developed township, there is a mysterious and inexplicable murder case, which happened in this manor in front of Sherlock and John Watson.

The news in the newspaper gave Sherlock great hope that he could find his enemy here.

After 4 o'clock in the morning, close to 5 o'clock, it is the time when the blood races on land start to feel sleepy. The sun will rise soon, and Sherlock must find a safe habitat before sunrise, and that residence is still there. John Watson, who can protect the inconvenient eyes.

Sherlock finally picked a church. He made a wise choice. Vampires are not afraid of crosses, but vampires hate the religion that curses them, so they don't go to church for mass or worship, which is self-defeating for them. It's a shame, they will take a detour when they see the church, and they won't go in for no reason at all.

No vampire would be like Sherlock when he was a child, sitting in front of the priest with a Bible and a cross on time, obediently praying at night.

At that time, Sherlock Holmes, who was innocent and innocent, thought that he could also become a human being, but in the end it backfired.

Moriarty fell in the manor not far away, he still didn't know that Sherlock Holmes was still alive, he was still ignorant and unvigilant, with his beautiful little pet Harley Watson and his servant Sebastian Moran, happily killing and drinking blood on the estate.

And Sherlock lay quietly in the almshouse specially set up by the church, on the simple bed, fixed the door with nails and wooden boards to block any disturbance, closed his eyes, folded his hands in front of him, as if Sleeping in the tomb, when he wakes up again, it will be the time when the enemy meets.

John Watson curled up and leaned against him quietly. He didn't sleep well, holding the sheets with his fists, like a frightened baby, unwilling to let go for a long time. He slowed down his breathing, and stayed with Sherlock until dawn , he was half asleep and half awake, nervously waiting for the evening and sunset to come.

The author has something to say:

Forewarn, the bloody scene is almost going to be brushed again

then it's over, seriously

Of course HE is also very serious! !

Did I forget to say that Xiao Hua will see her eyes again?