[Sherlock Holmes ACD] --- Yellow Ribbons (JWP#02 2015)
Title: Yellow Ribbons
Theme: Watson's Woes July Writing Prompts 2015
Prompt: #2 Yellow. Use the color as your inspiration for today's entry: anything from the sun, to John wearing a mustard yellow jumper, to yellow ribbons tied in a tree.
Author: Alaylith
Rating: General Audiences
Universe: ACD
Characters: Watson, Holmes
WordCount: 515
Summary: The killer always leaves a yellow ribbon tied to something.
A/N: As soon as I read the prompt and the words "yellow ribbons tied in a tree" I got this idea, so thanks a lot to the prompter whoever worded this prompt! :D
Even though I do not think you had something like this in mind...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The ribbon flutters slightly in the wind, the long yellow straps dance around the small bow within their middle.
Watson watches it sadly, his back turned to the men milling around the latest victim of the Yellow-Ribbon-Killer.
Their culprit (a man, aged between 50 to 60, strong-built, ex-military, favours his right leg and left hand, smokes pipe) chooses his victims apparantly at random and murders them quickly, but brutally.
And near their bodies he always leaves a yellow ribbon tied to something, always formed into a perfect little bow.
So far he has killed two women and three men.
Now he has also killed a little girl no older than 7 years.
As soon as Watson saw her little hand between the leaves he turned away, not able to look upon her body - he has seen the other bodies, he knows how her body will look like.
Holmes threw him a short, sympathic look and patted his elbow lightly, but then his face turned blank and he went to check the scene, Lestrade following him with a grim expression on his own face.
It does not take long and Holmes steps to Watson's side, both looking to the ribbon in the tree.
"You will find this bastard," Watson states calmly and without a doubt in his voice. Holmes does not answer, but out of the corner of his eye Watson can see the cold fire burning in his friend's eyes and he knows the answer.
"Come now, Watson," Holmes calls him and both turn away, just as a police officer takes a scissor and cuts the ribbon down.
+++
The next few days are hard, but Holmes knows that he is catching up. He has to, as the killer murders every Thursday and on Wednesday he finally has all the clues he needs.
A few hours spent in the library going through old newspapers and then questioning the right people and Holmes has a name.
He takes a cab and shouts to the driver to hurry to Baker Street; Watson had a patient to visit and besides, he would not have been able to keep up in this wet autumn weather and his bad leg.
It is already late, the streets almost empty and dark, but Holmes can see the light in their rooms as soon as the cab turns into their street.
He grins lightly, knowing that Watson stayed awake to wait for him and adrenaline pumps through his veins and preparing him for their hunt.
Holmes tells the driver to wait and storms into the house, taking the steps three at a time.
The game is on and he-
Everything stops and Holmes stands in the middle of the hallway to their shared rooms, staring straight ahead. For a long moment, feeling like eternity, he does not move, he does not think, he does not breathe, he does not live.
The only sound is the clock, chiming midnight.
Because right there, on the closed door to their living room, hangs a yellow ribbon, formed into a perfect little bow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Theme: Watson's Woes July Writing Prompts 2015
Prompt: #2 Yellow. Use the color as your inspiration for today's entry: anything from the sun, to John wearing a mustard yellow jumper, to yellow ribbons tied in a tree.
Author: Alaylith
Rating: General Audiences
Universe: ACD
Characters: Watson, Holmes
WordCount: 515
Summary: The killer always leaves a yellow ribbon tied to something.
A/N: As soon as I read the prompt and the words "yellow ribbons tied in a tree" I got this idea, so thanks a lot to the prompter whoever worded this prompt! :D
Even though I do not think you had something like this in mind...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The ribbon flutters slightly in the wind, the long yellow straps dance around the small bow within their middle.
Watson watches it sadly, his back turned to the men milling around the latest victim of the Yellow-Ribbon-Killer.
Their culprit (a man, aged between 50 to 60, strong-built, ex-military, favours his right leg and left hand, smokes pipe) chooses his victims apparantly at random and murders them quickly, but brutally.
And near their bodies he always leaves a yellow ribbon tied to something, always formed into a perfect little bow.
So far he has killed two women and three men.
Now he has also killed a little girl no older than 7 years.
As soon as Watson saw her little hand between the leaves he turned away, not able to look upon her body - he has seen the other bodies, he knows how her body will look like.
Holmes threw him a short, sympathic look and patted his elbow lightly, but then his face turned blank and he went to check the scene, Lestrade following him with a grim expression on his own face.
It does not take long and Holmes steps to Watson's side, both looking to the ribbon in the tree.
"You will find this bastard," Watson states calmly and without a doubt in his voice. Holmes does not answer, but out of the corner of his eye Watson can see the cold fire burning in his friend's eyes and he knows the answer.
"Come now, Watson," Holmes calls him and both turn away, just as a police officer takes a scissor and cuts the ribbon down.
+++
The next few days are hard, but Holmes knows that he is catching up. He has to, as the killer murders every Thursday and on Wednesday he finally has all the clues he needs.
A few hours spent in the library going through old newspapers and then questioning the right people and Holmes has a name.
He takes a cab and shouts to the driver to hurry to Baker Street; Watson had a patient to visit and besides, he would not have been able to keep up in this wet autumn weather and his bad leg.
It is already late, the streets almost empty and dark, but Holmes can see the light in their rooms as soon as the cab turns into their street.
He grins lightly, knowing that Watson stayed awake to wait for him and adrenaline pumps through his veins and preparing him for their hunt.
Holmes tells the driver to wait and storms into the house, taking the steps three at a time.
The game is on and he-
Everything stops and Holmes stands in the middle of the hallway to their shared rooms, staring straight ahead. For a long moment, feeling like eternity, he does not move, he does not think, he does not breathe, he does not live.
The only sound is the clock, chiming midnight.
Because right there, on the closed door to their living room, hangs a yellow ribbon, formed into a perfect little bow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~