July 4: Horsemen of the Apocalypse
Title: The Case of the Speckled Box (part 2/3?)
Author: Pompey
Universe: Great Mouse Detective bookverse
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: medical ickiness and anachronistic chemicals
Word count: 1053
Summary: Basil and Dawson investigate some unexplained rodent deaths - to Dawson’s detriment.
Prompt: July 4 - 4 Horsemen of the Apocalypse
Basil’s words sent me reeling. A rodenticide. A poison designed specifically to kill rodents like us. A poison that caused massive and fatal internal bleeding. And I had consumed it.
“I only had one bite of one pellet,” I heard myself say. “And I took the dose of clay within hours of that.”
Basil lit another match and peered at me closely in the uncertain light. “And you have felt no ill effects so far?”
“At the moment I feel rather sick but I think that is more from fear than anything else,” I replied honestly.
“Since I feel much the same, I believe your judgment is correct,” conceded Basil. “But Dawson, if you start to feel anything amiss at all, you must say so. Now is not the time to be stoic.”
“You have my word.”
“Good. I hope I also have your word that you will go directly back to Baker Street and wait for me there.” He shook out the match before it could singe his claws.
“Wait for you there? You are not returning to Baker Street?”
“Not right away, my dear fellow,” Basil answered, giving up on the matches and opting for his lighter. “This is a commercially prepared substance. If one human has already purchased such a thing, it is certain other humans will as well. And this new poison is a health hazard to our kind if ever there was one. We shall need to alert the public to the danger.”
“Yes, of course.” I felt ashamed at my selfishness, that I had not thought of this myself. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Besides returning to Baker Street? Yes, I shall need you to write up a description of these pellets as well as a list of symptoms that citizens should watch for. If I know anything about our government, they will be putting out posters and leaflets. We must give them some data to work with. I shall see you in an hour or two. Take care, Dawson.” So saying, he touched my shoulder lightly and then he was gone.
*****
Upon my return to Baker Street, I told Mrs. Judson of our discovery and described for her the box and the pellets. I did, however, refrain from telling her exactly how horrible the effects were - and that I was in some danger myself. Still, my words were effective and she promised to spread the word up and down Baker Street.
For my part, I sat down to record all that I could remember regarding the poison. Unfortunately, I did not have any definite timeframe for the progression of symptoms or even what the earliest symptoms were. The best I could do was to make an educated guess. If the poor wretches had died from internal hemorrhage, likely their conditions had begun with a higher propensity to bruise and severely at that. The delicate capillaries of the eyes and digits would be the first to rupture. And later, when the internal bleeding began, there would be abdominal pain and firmness.
I put down my pen at this and reread my list. So much of it was based on speculation and conjecture. I wondered if this was Basil’s way of making me exercise my own deductive powers but with a medicinal bend. Or perhaps he meant it as nothing more than a distraction from fruitless worrying. It had done that, at least temporarily.
True to his word, Basil arrived within two hours. He looked grim initially but softened when he saw I was no worse. He settled himself into his chair and began filling his pipe. “I have been thinking it over, Dawson. The box must have been placed there by a human. The scent of human was quite faint though still present. Therefore, I estimate the box was put there five to seven days ago. I cannot think that any rodent with the intelligence to survive in London would so freely and carelessly eat any substance that smelled strongly of humans unless driven to it. The bankvoles were impoverished; Mr. Stone was greedy. For several days their diets were made up solely of the poisoned pellets. Under those circumstances, it is no wonder they died. But you, Dawson, consumed a miniscule fraction of that, and took precautions afterward.”
Put like that, I felt the faint stirrings of hope. “It is possible I may escape the effects, then.”
“Or at the most, suffer no more than - what is it you have written? ‘Easy bruising.’ That is certainly a tolerable effect compared to what we have witnessed.”
*****
I awoke the next morning to find that I had indeed begun bruising. I could not even recall having stubbed my footpaw but there was undoubtedly a hematoma forming. With a sigh and a shrug, I set about getting ready for the day. My eyes felt rather dry and sticky so I washed with slightly more pressure than I might otherwise have.
I don’t know if that was the cause or merely the exacerbation. In any event, when I looked up from the wash basin to my mirror I froze in horror. There were drops of fresh blood at the corners of both eyes, and though they were scarcely visible, both scleras had turned red from broken vessels. As I stared at my reflection, I imagined I could feel death stalking me like some great, shadowy cat. Perhaps it took far less brodifacoum to kill than Basil had calculated.
Then my nerve returned. I had faced down death before. Not just death either, but war and pestilence and even famine to a certain extent as well and I had endured. Whatever my fate was to be, I would face it head-on as a proper soldier. I blotted away the drops of blood, squared my shoulders, and left my room.
I did not intend to keep the recent developments a secret from Basil. Had our positions been reversed, I would furious if he kept something like that from me. But I had planned to break the news in such a way that it kept things in perspective.
Unfortunately, Basil is always the master of observation. No sooner did I enter the sitting room than he looked up from his scribblings, gasped, and cried out, “Dawson, your eyes!”
Author: Pompey
Universe: Great Mouse Detective bookverse
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: medical ickiness and anachronistic chemicals
Word count: 1053
Summary: Basil and Dawson investigate some unexplained rodent deaths - to Dawson’s detriment.
Prompt: July 4 - 4 Horsemen of the Apocalypse
Basil’s words sent me reeling. A rodenticide. A poison designed specifically to kill rodents like us. A poison that caused massive and fatal internal bleeding. And I had consumed it.
“I only had one bite of one pellet,” I heard myself say. “And I took the dose of clay within hours of that.”
Basil lit another match and peered at me closely in the uncertain light. “And you have felt no ill effects so far?”
“At the moment I feel rather sick but I think that is more from fear than anything else,” I replied honestly.
“Since I feel much the same, I believe your judgment is correct,” conceded Basil. “But Dawson, if you start to feel anything amiss at all, you must say so. Now is not the time to be stoic.”
“You have my word.”
“Good. I hope I also have your word that you will go directly back to Baker Street and wait for me there.” He shook out the match before it could singe his claws.
“Wait for you there? You are not returning to Baker Street?”
“Not right away, my dear fellow,” Basil answered, giving up on the matches and opting for his lighter. “This is a commercially prepared substance. If one human has already purchased such a thing, it is certain other humans will as well. And this new poison is a health hazard to our kind if ever there was one. We shall need to alert the public to the danger.”
“Yes, of course.” I felt ashamed at my selfishness, that I had not thought of this myself. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Besides returning to Baker Street? Yes, I shall need you to write up a description of these pellets as well as a list of symptoms that citizens should watch for. If I know anything about our government, they will be putting out posters and leaflets. We must give them some data to work with. I shall see you in an hour or two. Take care, Dawson.” So saying, he touched my shoulder lightly and then he was gone.
*****
Upon my return to Baker Street, I told Mrs. Judson of our discovery and described for her the box and the pellets. I did, however, refrain from telling her exactly how horrible the effects were - and that I was in some danger myself. Still, my words were effective and she promised to spread the word up and down Baker Street.
For my part, I sat down to record all that I could remember regarding the poison. Unfortunately, I did not have any definite timeframe for the progression of symptoms or even what the earliest symptoms were. The best I could do was to make an educated guess. If the poor wretches had died from internal hemorrhage, likely their conditions had begun with a higher propensity to bruise and severely at that. The delicate capillaries of the eyes and digits would be the first to rupture. And later, when the internal bleeding began, there would be abdominal pain and firmness.
I put down my pen at this and reread my list. So much of it was based on speculation and conjecture. I wondered if this was Basil’s way of making me exercise my own deductive powers but with a medicinal bend. Or perhaps he meant it as nothing more than a distraction from fruitless worrying. It had done that, at least temporarily.
True to his word, Basil arrived within two hours. He looked grim initially but softened when he saw I was no worse. He settled himself into his chair and began filling his pipe. “I have been thinking it over, Dawson. The box must have been placed there by a human. The scent of human was quite faint though still present. Therefore, I estimate the box was put there five to seven days ago. I cannot think that any rodent with the intelligence to survive in London would so freely and carelessly eat any substance that smelled strongly of humans unless driven to it. The bankvoles were impoverished; Mr. Stone was greedy. For several days their diets were made up solely of the poisoned pellets. Under those circumstances, it is no wonder they died. But you, Dawson, consumed a miniscule fraction of that, and took precautions afterward.”
Put like that, I felt the faint stirrings of hope. “It is possible I may escape the effects, then.”
“Or at the most, suffer no more than - what is it you have written? ‘Easy bruising.’ That is certainly a tolerable effect compared to what we have witnessed.”
*****
I awoke the next morning to find that I had indeed begun bruising. I could not even recall having stubbed my footpaw but there was undoubtedly a hematoma forming. With a sigh and a shrug, I set about getting ready for the day. My eyes felt rather dry and sticky so I washed with slightly more pressure than I might otherwise have.
I don’t know if that was the cause or merely the exacerbation. In any event, when I looked up from the wash basin to my mirror I froze in horror. There were drops of fresh blood at the corners of both eyes, and though they were scarcely visible, both scleras had turned red from broken vessels. As I stared at my reflection, I imagined I could feel death stalking me like some great, shadowy cat. Perhaps it took far less brodifacoum to kill than Basil had calculated.
Then my nerve returned. I had faced down death before. Not just death either, but war and pestilence and even famine to a certain extent as well and I had endured. Whatever my fate was to be, I would face it head-on as a proper soldier. I blotted away the drops of blood, squared my shoulders, and left my room.
I did not intend to keep the recent developments a secret from Basil. Had our positions been reversed, I would furious if he kept something like that from me. But I had planned to break the news in such a way that it kept things in perspective.
Unfortunately, Basil is always the master of observation. No sooner did I enter the sitting room than he looked up from his scribblings, gasped, and cried out, “Dawson, your eyes!”