Love of Heaven and Hell

Knowledge is Power (And Boring)

John led the way back to the car, taking a last look at the completely blood free sidewalk. Obviously there was more to her story than she claimed.
"What was that screaming?" Sherlock asked as soon as they got into the car.
"I'd like to know that for myself, and did you see all that meat in the fridge?" John asked.
"No." Sherlock muttered.
"Well there was like, a lot of meat, and she's a widow." John pointed out.
"You think she's the werewolf?" Sherlock asked.
"Possibly, but then again why would she kill her husband?" John asked.
"Not all marriages are happy." Sherlock shrugged.
"I'm not saying she is a werewolf, but there is definitely something fishy in this picture." John decided.
"So it wasn't the TV that made that sound?" Sherlock clarified.
"Definitely not." John agreed.
"Do you think she has her victims chained up or something?" Sherlock asked.
"Maybe, saved for when it's a full moon." John decided, turning on the engine and driving back into the town. "And you can't just hose away blood, at least not the amount of blood that kind of attack would cause. He had to have been killed somewhere else."
"This is scary John, what if she comes after us?" Sherlock asked, his voice shaking.
"Then she comes, we're ready, and she'll never be able to find where we're staying." John pointed out.
"But she's a werewolf; she'll have extra good senses. Like a wolf."
"No she won't that's not how it works." John laughed, rolling his eyes.
"Oh, well, I'm worried." Sherlock decided.
"The only thing on my mind is lunch right now." John muttered.
"Liar, the werewolf has to be on your mind." Sherlock debated.
"Well, two things are on my mind." John corrected. Sherlock nodded and continued looking out the window.
"Where do you want to eat?" John asked as they parked on the curb in the small town.
"No idea." Sherlock shrugged, and John agreed, he had no idea either. He honestly didn't know if there were any restaurants around. The two of them got out of the car and looked around; the town was basically deserted except for a couple of cars on the road. They walked along the sidewalk for a little while, past little shops and fancy restaurants that only looked fit for the dinner crowd. Finally they found a little sub shop, which actually had some people milling around in it.
"Looks good." John decided, craning his neck to see what people were eating. Sherlock nodded in agreement, and lead the way in. They got a seat in the back, and waited for like ten minutes before they realized that you had to order at the counter. Soon they had one Italian sub and one tuna sub in front of them, plus a family size bag of potato chips to share.
"Are you sure you're not a vegetarian?" John asked as Sherlock picked a pretty unattractive piece of soggy tomato off of the sandwich.
"I'm not a vegetarian; I just don't really like meat." Sherlock shrugged.
"That sounds like a vegetarian to me." John decided.
"I ate a hamburger on the ride over, remember?" Sherlock pointed out.
"Oh, ya." John muttered. He had forgotten all about the ride over.
"So what now?" Sherlock asked.
"Do some history checks on this place, go to the library, see how many other attacks were similar to this one, and then maybe we'll go snooping around in Mrs. Trevor's basement." John decided. Sherlock nodded, looking around cautiously.
"Do you think it's a human?" he asked.
"Probably." John agreed. Sherlock turned white, but he had an excited little smile on his face.
"And when we get there we're going to kill her right?" he clarified.
"Whoa, keep your voice down." John demanded, looking around nervously to make sure no one would overhear.
"Sorry, but, we will won't we?" Sherlock asked.
"Not if we're exactly sure it's her, I don't want to go knocking down the freshly painted door unless we know she's a wolf. I'm sure the thing in the basement will clarify." John decided. Sherlock nodded, looking kind of excited for an adventure. But John knew that inside he was absolutely terrified.
"You'll be fine, don't worry." John assured. Sherlock muttered something that John couldn't make out and returned to his sandwich. John didn't know if he should keep the conversation going, so he just took a bite of his sandwich as well. If Sherlock wanted to continue the conversation then he would, but he didn't say anything, so neither did John.