//------------------------------// // Chapter One // Story: Sherlock Holmes: A Most Peculiar Case // by LeenaWrites //------------------------------// “Watson, could you hand me my phone?” “Um, sure. Where is it?” “In my coat.” John Watson gave Sherlock an exasperated glare before reaching forward and pulling the phone from the pocket of the pacing detective. Sherlock snatched it delicately from his companion when he next passed, quickly opening up his browser and searching for available flights leaving London. Flights to where you may ask? Sherlock had recently been informed that there was a rather peculiar thing happening over in America. Apparently, there was a rather impressive string of brutal murders in New York. Each victim had had their hands removed while they were still alive. Then, their throats where cleanly slit and their blood was drained, though no blood was found at the scene of the crime. The case had been recently abandoned for unknown reasons, deemed ‘unsolvable’ by the press. To the common person, it was merely an oddity. To Sherlock, it was a challenge. A challenge he very much needed. He had been so incredibly bored as of late. “Okay, tickets have been bought, the reservations have been made at our hotel…” the bleep of the delete button being pushed was heard and Sherlock nimbly slid the phone in his pocket. Upon seeing Watson’s inquiring gaze, he sighed and simply muttered, “Mycroft.” Watson raised an eyebrow, “What? I thought he wasn’t interested in this case.” “Watson, he is the British government. He’s interested in everyone’s business except his own. Oh, and he was spouting some nonsense about ‘Britain and American relations’ and telling me to ‘play nicely.” Sherlock ran his hands back through his dark, curly hair in an impatient manner as Watson looked on. And, as he often did, Watson began to think. What would they be up against this time? Was this the act of a lone murderer or some new, twisted gang? Was it that bastard, Moriarty? Was he once again pulling the strings, trying to make Sherlock dance? Or was it someone new entirely? Watson hadn’t the slightest clue, which was frustrating to say the least. Although, when you spend so much time with Sherlock Holmes, you spend an awful lot of time one step behind. He had gotten used to it, more or less. Oddly, Watson had a feeling there was something other than Sherlock’s impatience in the air. Something was amiss about all of this, something subtle and strange. There was something purely emotional, something even Sherlock wasn’t picking up on. A sense of dread, a darkness hung in the air. Ever since the Baskerville case, it had been there with him and Sherlock, like a smoky shadow looming over them both. It was so clear to Watson, so dark, even tangible at times. But, it would come and go like the reception of a badly tuned radio, like the push and pull of waves on a shore. Regardless what this feeling was, it was persistent. And it was most certainly tied to this case. “Watson, could you duck?” “Hm? What?” Watson shook his head to clear it before he locked eyes with a rather impatient Sherlock. With a blur of movement and a flash of silver, Sherlock raised an arm and violently hurled a small object directly at Watson, who ducked and swore furiously. The object (a throwing star, of all things) stuck in the wall behind Watson with a satisfying thunk. Looking at the weapon and back to an agitated Sherlock, Watson stood, straightened his shirt and took a deep, angry breath. “Why the hell did you do that? Furthermore… “ He threw his hands up into the air. “Oh, why do I even bother?” Sherlock raised his eyebrows, “I told you to duck.” “You don’t just say ‘duck’ and lob a throwing star at my head! You shouldn’t throw throwing stars at me period!” Watson growled. He then sighed and ran his hands up over his head. He knew it was hopeless. It was like arguing to a brick wall. “I’m bored, Watson! Everything has been so incredibly dull. For God’s sake, I need this case! Besides, this sort of thing shouldn’t come as a shock to you.” To further emphasize his point, Sherlock gestured towards the wall speckled with bullet holes. He had shot up that wall the last time he was ‘bored’. “You can't jus-“ Watson took another deep breath and looked back at the enigmatic sleuth with a thin, tight smile playing on his lips. “It’s fine. I’ll… go pack my bag, then.” “Oh, good, you’ve decided to do something useful. While you’re up there, be sure to say hello to your girlfriend for me. What was her name?” Before Watson could comment, the detective raised a hand to stop him. “Ah, it doesn’t matter. Judging by the shade of the lipstick stain on your collar and that scuff she left on the floor just to your left, she won’t be around very long anyways.” He threw another star into the wall with fierce precision. Watson’s ears reddened, his face went taut. As much as he hoped Sherlock was lying, he knew Sherlock had a tendency not to. But, Sherlock didn’t need to know what he thought. So Watson spun on his heel and marched up the stairs to meet his soon-to-be-ex-girlfriend. No need to keep her waiting. ----------------------------- At the Ponyville Library, same time Princess Twilight Sparkle was running back and forth, her eyes scanning the bookshelves for something that may help. Her wings fluttered nervously as she moved and her eye twitched slightly as it always did when she was under pressure. And as often would do when she was alone in the library, she began to think. Loudly. “Ugh, for Celestia’s sake! What do I bring, what do I bring? I don’t know what to do!” she moaned, stopping only to prance nervously in place. Another murder had taken place that day in Manehatten. That had been the seventh to occur over the course of the last month. The police were trying their best to hide information relating to the case and keep the public calm. But, the police’s control was slipping. This was the very first string of serial killings to occur within the past 500 years, so this was a horrible shock to the entire nation. Ponies everywhere where getting scared. Really scared. Twilight had been bombarded with questions from Ponyville residents for days now. They looked to her for the answers they didn’t have. But she didn’t know a thing about the murders. She didn’t know a thing about crime! Then, just an hour ago, she had received a letter from Princess Celestia, asking her to personally investigate the crime. Her! How could she, of all ponies, solve a serious murder case?! But, Twilight being Twilight, she accepted the challenge. She couldn’t disappoint the princess! But now, she had to pack. What to pack, though? She had never packed for a criminal investigation before. What books would she need? Should she take her Equestrian psychology books and her books addressing the art of deduction? Or should she leave out the psychology books and bring her very few books regarding criminal history in Equestria? Would she need a microscope? Her alchemy kit? Weapons?! Twilight momentarily paused her nervous breakdown to hear the pattering of Spike’s feet on the wood floor. “Twilight? What are you d- Oof!” Spike entered the room to be tackled by the incredibly nervous mare. He gasped and coughed as the weight of a fully-grown mare slammed heavily down on his scaly chest. “Spike, pl-eeeaaaase tell me you’ve checked the basement fo-”She quickly realized her mistake and shifted her weight off of the gasping baby dragon, grinning sheepishly. After taking a few deep breaths, Spike gave her a deadpan stare. “Twilight, are you seriously still worried about this case?” He asked, dusting himself off as he climbed to his feet. “I packed your stuff an hour ago!” Twilight blinked. “Really?” “Yeah.” Twilight sat there, disbelieving. That explained why she hadn’t been able to find the books she had wanted. Had she really been running about, yelling and tearing books from shelves for absolutely no reason? “Did you get my alchemy kit? My books on deduction? My magnifying glass? My best spell books? Microscope? Notebook?” She asked, “Check, check, check, check, check and check! Now please relax, we have to leave in a few hours,” muttered the exasperated dragon. Twilight stood there a moment, staring at her pint sized assistant in surprise. She then reached forward and ruffled his spines affectionately, smiling gently as she did. “What would I do without you?” She asked, much to Spike’s delight. She then turned and headed back towards the staircase. She had to update the princess, tell her things where going smoothly. No need to keep her waiting.