Turn-Coat: A Sherlock Holmes Story
Title: Turn-Coat
Author: azuhra
Fandom: ACD-Bookverse Sherlock Holmes
Word Count: 442
Rating: PG13
Characters: Watson, Holmes
Pairing(s): None. Friendship is the key here.
Warnings: Blood
Disclaimer: I don't own the boys. I just take them out to play.
Prompt: JWP #14 at watsons_woes
Summary:
The games we say and the games we play all come out in the end.
Chapter Eleven of my JWP story: The Case of the Antique Massacre
Chapter One: Rain for the Cab Man
Chapter Two: Less Than Benign
Chapter Three: Word Games
Chapter Four: Relief and a Quote
Chapter Five: The Horror Unfolds
Chapter Six: Undercover Detective
Chapter Seven: Plan of Attack
Chapter Eight: Mud, Oil, and Cowards
Chapter Nine: Falling for You
Chapter Ten: The Bloodshed Begins
A/N: Betrayal! Ironic, I had this betrayal planned out before the prompt came out, so I was thrilled to use it.
---
Even drenched with rain and painted in grease and mud as I was, the household staff bowed to my commands as I knelt beside the girl and began issuing orders. Hands already exploring the leg injury, I made clear my need of supplies and the staff began moving to obey.
“I'm afraid no one will be leaving this room, to fetch water, cloth, or valiantly scream for the police.”
The members of the house that surrounded me began crying and screaming with the announcement. I looked up to find three black clad robbers and our client, Mr. Hunt, standing by the main doors, a gun in each man's grasp. Pressing my hand tight over the bleeding girl's wound, I exclaimed, “If you do not allow us to move, this child will die!”
The apparent leader of the group, a tall gentlemen with a mask about his eyes and a lilting voice, shrugged in response. “What do we care? You will all be dead shortly.”
I turned half pleading and fully angry with our turn-coat client. “Mr. Hunt, you showed such concern about these events, do something about it now!”
“Sorry, Doc. I'm following orders, I've always been following orders. Its your poor decision on who your friends with.”
Jacob Hunt then laughed, thus completing his betrayal.
---
Even as our would be client laughed, his boss gestured in the last two of the antique thieves. They carried four large sacks between them that they then positioned about the room. The leader turned on Hunt then. “You were supposed to bring me Holmes and his partner. You seem to have lost the detective in this.”
“He insisted on going on his own, there was nothing I could do but bring you the doctor. In killing him you should make your point.”
Holmes, yes. My stomach flip-flopped even as I recalled that my friend was on the grounds somewhere. It was likely he would show up any moment to turn the tide. He must have known what Jacob Hunt really was. He had tried to warn me when we first met the fellow. He had said he would play games. Little did I understand the gravity of the game until this moment.
“I don't want to send him a message,” the leader growled, “I wish to see him dead. He is our only road block in a truly lucrative venture.”
“He's on the grounds,” Hunt snapped back, “We'll shoot him when we see him. Until then, lets finish this.”
“You had better hope we find him tonight. Shoot the bags and run, boys!”
Author: azuhra
Fandom: ACD-Bookverse Sherlock Holmes
Word Count: 442
Rating: PG13
Characters: Watson, Holmes
Pairing(s): None. Friendship is the key here.
Warnings: Blood
Disclaimer: I don't own the boys. I just take them out to play.
Prompt: JWP #14 at watsons_woes
Summary:
The games we say and the games we play all come out in the end.
Chapter Eleven of my JWP story: The Case of the Antique Massacre
Chapter One: Rain for the Cab Man
Chapter Two: Less Than Benign
Chapter Three: Word Games
Chapter Four: Relief and a Quote
Chapter Five: The Horror Unfolds
Chapter Six: Undercover Detective
Chapter Seven: Plan of Attack
Chapter Eight: Mud, Oil, and Cowards
Chapter Nine: Falling for You
Chapter Ten: The Bloodshed Begins
A/N: Betrayal! Ironic, I had this betrayal planned out before the prompt came out, so I was thrilled to use it.
---
Even drenched with rain and painted in grease and mud as I was, the household staff bowed to my commands as I knelt beside the girl and began issuing orders. Hands already exploring the leg injury, I made clear my need of supplies and the staff began moving to obey.
“I'm afraid no one will be leaving this room, to fetch water, cloth, or valiantly scream for the police.”
The members of the house that surrounded me began crying and screaming with the announcement. I looked up to find three black clad robbers and our client, Mr. Hunt, standing by the main doors, a gun in each man's grasp. Pressing my hand tight over the bleeding girl's wound, I exclaimed, “If you do not allow us to move, this child will die!”
The apparent leader of the group, a tall gentlemen with a mask about his eyes and a lilting voice, shrugged in response. “What do we care? You will all be dead shortly.”
I turned half pleading and fully angry with our turn-coat client. “Mr. Hunt, you showed such concern about these events, do something about it now!”
“Sorry, Doc. I'm following orders, I've always been following orders. Its your poor decision on who your friends with.”
Jacob Hunt then laughed, thus completing his betrayal.
---
Even as our would be client laughed, his boss gestured in the last two of the antique thieves. They carried four large sacks between them that they then positioned about the room. The leader turned on Hunt then. “You were supposed to bring me Holmes and his partner. You seem to have lost the detective in this.”
“He insisted on going on his own, there was nothing I could do but bring you the doctor. In killing him you should make your point.”
Holmes, yes. My stomach flip-flopped even as I recalled that my friend was on the grounds somewhere. It was likely he would show up any moment to turn the tide. He must have known what Jacob Hunt really was. He had tried to warn me when we first met the fellow. He had said he would play games. Little did I understand the gravity of the game until this moment.
“I don't want to send him a message,” the leader growled, “I wish to see him dead. He is our only road block in a truly lucrative venture.”
“He's on the grounds,” Hunt snapped back, “We'll shoot him when we see him. Until then, lets finish this.”
“You had better hope we find him tonight. Shoot the bags and run, boys!”