Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Claymore

Chapter 2

John listened to the rain pounding against the window; he lay back to back with Sherlock. Their spines were aligned one against the other and John loved how their vertebrates fit perfectly together.  No matter what happened Sherlock was home. John rolled over and traced his finger down Sherlock’s back and he marveled at how beautiful Sherlock was his skin so fine and white, like polished ivory. Sherlock stirred and rolled over to face John. He smiled back with a sleepy grin on his lips. The moonlight from the window illuminated Sherlock’s body and John gasped as he noticed the different colors all over Sherlock. “They must mean something,” John thought as he studied Sherlock. He noticed several maroon colored areas and as John leaned closer he realized that the maroon colored areas must be Sherlock’s erogenous spots. John knew several of them already; however, he was surprised to find a glowing maroon section just slightly above Sherlock’s armpit. John decided to test his theory, he edged closer to Sherlock, and began to gently kiss and lick the maroon glow on Sherlock’s chest.

Sherlock immediately responded to John’s touch by shivering and shifting his body so that John could reach the spot with less difficulty. John began to look for other maroon colors on Sherlock. One by one he found them and gently kissed them. As John moved his tongue in around Sherlock’s belly button. Sherlock gasped and grabbed onto the sheets tightly and then as John moved lower, Sherlock thought he was going to lose his mind.

“John , oh God, John wherever did you learn where….” His voice trailed off as John’s tongue found another spot. Sherlock felt the area in between his loins begin to tighten. John was taking his time and Sherlock wasn’t sure if it was pleasure or torture. John pushed Sherlock’s legs open a little wider, so that he had more room to maneuver. Sherlock’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes glazed over as John took him to the brink of sanity and back.

John loved bringing Sherlock to a climax. Sherlock, his aloof detective, lost his composure little by little, begging John not to stop. “Sherlock, I love you,” John whispered as Sherlock lay panting in his arms with his head leaned back and his mouth open gasping for air. Though Sherlock appeared to be spent, he surprised John by grabbing the hair on the back of his head to move him closer. When Sherlock began to kiss John, his lips parted to make room for Sherlock’s firm tongue. John guided Sherlock to all the maroon spots he could see on his own body and when Sherlock finally reached in between John’s legs, John was bracing his feet against the mattress, arching and writhing, like he was having some kind of sex seizure. His release when it came was so great that John screamed, “SHERLOCK.” John shook all over as he lay in Sherlock’s arms. Sherlock pushed back the damp hair that had plastered itself to John’s forehead. John loved how Sherlock liked to cuddle after sex. Sometimes he would speak to John in Italian or French. John didn’t know Italian or French, however, he knew from the tone of Sherlock’s voice that they were terms of endearment.

John was just about ready to drift off to sleep in Sherlock’s arms, when he felt Clare’s presence in his mind. It wasn’t like she could read his thoughts; however, John felt a strong urgency like a summons. John sighed put on a robe and quietly opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Clare was there, her eyes glittering in the light like a wild animal. John sighed in irritation.

“Clare, what do you want?” John whispered.

“Dr. Watson, it’s time to go hunting.” Clare whispered back, her voice was low and grating like the wind that howled outside.

“Just let me take a shower,” John growled.

Clare sniffed John, in a long inhale and John felt his face flush. “Dr. Watson, you smell of sex and blood lust. I hardly think that will bother the Golem. Come on let’s go while the trail is fresh, I need you to help me track the scent.”

“Fine,” just let me get dressed. “Or does the Golem want me naked?” John snapped.

Clare made a noise that was supposed to be laughter; however, John thought it sounded more like hissing. He hurried to his room got dressed, and pulled out a sword he had bought in China Town. John had the sword sharpened, so that it could cut silk. He slipped the sword back in its scarab, and then he adjusted it on his back so that the sword could quickly be drawn, if need be. He took a glance at himself in the mirror, there was an unmistakable glow to his cheeks from he and Sherlock’s love making, but there was something else too. Blood lust, the desire to slice the Golem’s head off, and feel the spray of blood on his face was a drive that was almost as powerful as the sex drive. Without another thought, John cleared his mind and met Clare in the hallway.

Sherlock was there too, and like a sleepy child he rubbed his eyes several times. “What’s going on? John, where are you going?” Sherlock asked as he yawned.

John answered first. “To hunt,” he said. His eyes glittered from excitement like Clare’s.

Sherlock came awake instantly, something was wrong. “Hold on, let me get dressed. I’m coming too.”

Sherlock got dressed and hurried to the hallway, it was empty. He ran to the window and Sherlock was just in time to see John and Clare getting into a cab.  Clare’s head was peeking out of one window, sniffing the air, and John’s head was out the opposite window sniffing. For a moment he looked in Sherlock’s direction, and then he looked away and motioned the cab to go on.

Sherlock felt icy cold, as he trudged down the stairs and out into the rain. He hailed a cab and headed in the direction of China town.  On the way there Sherlock felt as if his whole world was coming apart. John was beginning to turn into someone he didn’t recognize. The cab stopped and deposited Sherlock at his destination. It had finally stopped raining and every sound on the street echoed. The click of the cab door shutting reverberated off the buildings like the sound of a garbage truck on trash day. Sherlock made his way to where the last body had been. There was nothing there, then Sherlock heard the noise of a struggle somewhere nearby. Sherlock made his way towards the noise and was just in time to see an Asian gang member trying to choke Clare. She struggled as John tried to help her. Sherlock could tell by the way her body was starting to sag that she was going to lose consciousness soon.  Just before she was ready to collapse, Clare changed. Her body became thick, her hair thin wild wisps, eyes glowing she hacked at the gang member until there was blood spray everywhere. Another gang member tried to attack John, but he was ready for him. Sherlock went numb with shock when John pulled out his sword and began to cut the gang member down. Sherlock couldn’t tell whether the man was screaming for mercy or just screaming, however, the site that froze Sherlock with horror was the site of John reveling in the kill. John’s eyes were full of lust as he let the blood from the dying man’s throat spray all over him. Sherlock sank to the ground in despair, trying to shut out the crazed look on John’s face.