Haunted
Title: Haunted
Author: Alaylith
Rating: G
Characters: Watson
Summary: Watson is haunted by living shadows, even though the one they represent is already dead. (July Prompt 25)
WordCount: 387
Prompt: July 25 ~~~ The Supernatural
Requirements: Whether your supernatural (ie. otherworldly or beyond-worldly) experience proves to be man-created or simply imaginary, or you go the route of yes-ghosts/demons/vampires/freakythingsthatgobumpinthenight-do-exist, you must make the experience sufficiently terrifying. Pull out all the stops on those spooky old organs and try your best to creep your fellow authors (and poor Watson by default) out of their flat-footed-on-the-ground status.
Author's Note: Nothing fancy again, I fear. Firstly I am quite restricted with my July Story and secondly it is already late (already going to bed in an hour oO). LJ was down most of the day and as soon as it got up and I saw the prompt - I had to go and was gone the rest of the day myself. ._. Just returned an hour ago and wrote this little piece. I hope it is supernaturally & terrifying enough.*yawn* Me sleepy... Zzzzz....
Btw I placed this (roughly) after Away in the Night. I do think that after about 2 weeks in captivity such a occurence is very well possible for our poor Watson.
Additional Note: It's 11 pm and I hope that I can finally post! Stupid LJ...
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The shadows are alive.
There are dozens of figures in the dark corners; all are bony and long-limbed. Their long arms stretch towards him and their fingers - formed like claws - are reaching for him.
He tries to run - to get away - but he can not move. His body is like stone and his mouth is frozen shut. Every sound dies in his throat.
< John… >
A voice calls - a voice once smooth and warm, alive with laughter and love. Now the voice is cold and empty. It sounds so wrong, but at the same time he is able to identify the owner immediately. He will always recognize this voice.
< John… >
In the darkest corner one shadow grows and crawls towards him. As it reaches the cold moonlight the black limbs transform into pale arms and a head emerges from the darkness.
Once soft golden tresses are reduced to greasy grey locks and once warm sky blue eyes are glowing a fierce dark blue like an abyss in the ocean.
< John … >
Mary calls and her corpse crawls over the floor; her claws scraping at the floor boards. Her body, sick and rotten, is still dressed in the gown she wore the day she died.
< Come with me, John… >
One hand reaches for him and on one finger glints the golden band which binds her to him.
Till Death do us part
Just as one of his hands reaches forward to take the hand of his dead wife a loud hiss cuts through the silence and a grey flash jumps forward.
Watson blinks and looks down to Sherlock, the grey cat which visited him his first night in the attic.
Sherlock arches his back and growls at the shadows. Watson looks at his own outstretched hand and looks into the darkness beyond Sherlock.
There is nothing there, but as he looks down he can see long tracks in the dust. As if someone scratched the floor with their fingers.
Or something…
Watson sobs once and Sherlock turns around to look at him, its eyes glow softly in the moonlight. Then the cat walks over and jumps into his lap. Watson hugs the cat, ignores the shadows and whispers and hopes that Holmes will find him soon.
Before something else finds him first...
Author: Alaylith
Rating: G
Characters: Watson
Summary: Watson is haunted by living shadows, even though the one they represent is already dead. (July Prompt 25)
WordCount: 387
Prompt: July 25 ~~~ The Supernatural
Requirements: Whether your supernatural (ie. otherworldly or beyond-worldly) experience proves to be man-created or simply imaginary, or you go the route of yes-ghosts/demons/vampires/freakythingsthatgobumpinthenight-do-exist, you must make the experience sufficiently terrifying. Pull out all the stops on those spooky old organs and try your best to creep your fellow authors (and poor Watson by default) out of their flat-footed-on-the-ground status.
Author's Note: Nothing fancy again, I fear. Firstly I am quite restricted with my July Story and secondly it is already late (already going to bed in an hour oO). LJ was down most of the day and as soon as it got up and I saw the prompt - I had to go and was gone the rest of the day myself. ._. Just returned an hour ago and wrote this little piece. I hope it is supernaturally & terrifying enough.*yawn* Me sleepy... Zzzzz....
Btw I placed this (roughly) after Away in the Night. I do think that after about 2 weeks in captivity such a occurence is very well possible for our poor Watson.
Additional Note: It's 11 pm and I hope that I can finally post! Stupid LJ...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
The shadows are alive.
There are dozens of figures in the dark corners; all are bony and long-limbed. Their long arms stretch towards him and their fingers - formed like claws - are reaching for him.
He tries to run - to get away - but he can not move. His body is like stone and his mouth is frozen shut. Every sound dies in his throat.
< John… >
A voice calls - a voice once smooth and warm, alive with laughter and love. Now the voice is cold and empty. It sounds so wrong, but at the same time he is able to identify the owner immediately. He will always recognize this voice.
< John… >
In the darkest corner one shadow grows and crawls towards him. As it reaches the cold moonlight the black limbs transform into pale arms and a head emerges from the darkness.
Once soft golden tresses are reduced to greasy grey locks and once warm sky blue eyes are glowing a fierce dark blue like an abyss in the ocean.
< John … >
Mary calls and her corpse crawls over the floor; her claws scraping at the floor boards. Her body, sick and rotten, is still dressed in the gown she wore the day she died.
< Come with me, John… >
One hand reaches for him and on one finger glints the golden band which binds her to him.
Till Death do us part
Just as one of his hands reaches forward to take the hand of his dead wife a loud hiss cuts through the silence and a grey flash jumps forward.
Watson blinks and looks down to Sherlock, the grey cat which visited him his first night in the attic.
Sherlock arches his back and growls at the shadows. Watson looks at his own outstretched hand and looks into the darkness beyond Sherlock.
There is nothing there, but as he looks down he can see long tracks in the dust. As if someone scratched the floor with their fingers.
Or something…
Watson sobs once and Sherlock turns around to look at him, its eyes glow softly in the moonlight. Then the cat walks over and jumps into his lap. Watson hugs the cat, ignores the shadows and whispers and hopes that Holmes will find him soon.
Before something else finds him first...