Breathe With The Soul
Title: Breathe With The Soul
Author: i_ship_an_armada
Pairing: John/Sherlock
Length: 42825
Rating: Explicit
Warning: Graphic depictions of violence
Verse: Sherlock BBC
Author's Summary:
Sherlock and John hunt a serial killer who uses The Nine Circles of Hell as his modus operandi.
This is a alternate universe fusion casefic based on the movie Se7en and Dante Alighieri's Inferno. Any mistakes or misrepresentations regarding these two works are on purpose (probably) and entirely mine.
Reccer's Comments:
Not for the faint of heart. Even if you'd watched Se7en yesterday, this one will still get to you. The author builds the tension slowly and painfully. I just kept thinking 'The tag said neither one dies.' On the tail of that thought though, I started worrying about the truth of author tags. Great characterizations and a great AU that tailors the Se7en universe to its needs. If you've never seen it, most of the movie takes place in an endless downpour and that serves as an excellent backdrop for this story: the brown and grey buildings of a murky, wet London. Best read with all the lights on. And a taser. Just to be safe.
Excerpt:
Sherlock raised his torch, sweeping the light across the room, highlighting the cooktop. Or at least, what they could see of it. Pots and pans covered each burner, crusted food spills covered everything else and continued on to the adjoining countertop and sink. Dirty utensils were strewn haphazardly in between empty food containers. As the beam hit each surface, cockroaches scattered in multiple directions, their soundless escape making the scene all the more surreal.
The beam illuminated similar detritus all over the tiny kitchen, up to and including the small kitchen table in the center and the grotesquely obese man slumped over it.
“John…” Sherlock’s voice trailed off. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. John stepped up next to him and they brushed shoulders.
“Jesus Christ, Sherlock. Why exactly are we here?”
“Murder, John,” Sherlock breathed.
Almost in sync, they walked up to the dead man, each taking a side and leaning in to study him without touching. The man’s face was not visible, face buried in the batter bowl full of syrupy treacle.
“Sherlock, this guy…he must weigh twenty-five stone…”
“Twenty-seven.”
John continued as if Sherlock hadn’t spoken. “Don’t you suppose there is the possibility that he went into cardiac arrest and he simply…he just keeled over in his pudding?”
Author: i_ship_an_armada
Pairing: John/Sherlock
Length: 42825
Rating: Explicit
Warning: Graphic depictions of violence
Verse: Sherlock BBC
Author's Summary:
Sherlock and John hunt a serial killer who uses The Nine Circles of Hell as his modus operandi.
This is a alternate universe fusion casefic based on the movie Se7en and Dante Alighieri's Inferno. Any mistakes or misrepresentations regarding these two works are on purpose (probably) and entirely mine.
Reccer's Comments:
Not for the faint of heart. Even if you'd watched Se7en yesterday, this one will still get to you. The author builds the tension slowly and painfully. I just kept thinking 'The tag said neither one dies.' On the tail of that thought though, I started worrying about the truth of author tags. Great characterizations and a great AU that tailors the Se7en universe to its needs. If you've never seen it, most of the movie takes place in an endless downpour and that serves as an excellent backdrop for this story: the brown and grey buildings of a murky, wet London. Best read with all the lights on. And a taser. Just to be safe.
Excerpt:
Sherlock raised his torch, sweeping the light across the room, highlighting the cooktop. Or at least, what they could see of it. Pots and pans covered each burner, crusted food spills covered everything else and continued on to the adjoining countertop and sink. Dirty utensils were strewn haphazardly in between empty food containers. As the beam hit each surface, cockroaches scattered in multiple directions, their soundless escape making the scene all the more surreal.
The beam illuminated similar detritus all over the tiny kitchen, up to and including the small kitchen table in the center and the grotesquely obese man slumped over it.
“John…” Sherlock’s voice trailed off. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. John stepped up next to him and they brushed shoulders.
“Jesus Christ, Sherlock. Why exactly are we here?”
“Murder, John,” Sherlock breathed.
Almost in sync, they walked up to the dead man, each taking a side and leaning in to study him without touching. The man’s face was not visible, face buried in the batter bowl full of syrupy treacle.
“Sherlock, this guy…he must weigh twenty-five stone…”
“Twenty-seven.”
John continued as if Sherlock hadn’t spoken. “Don’t you suppose there is the possibility that he went into cardiac arrest and he simply…he just keeled over in his pudding?”