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alaylithTitle: Time stops
Theme: July Writing Prompt 2014 #19 - July 19
Prompt: Whump whump whump, yeah yeah yeah: Let's get back to our roots today, shall we? Whump Watson. Whump him well.
Author: Alaylith
Rating: PG
Universe: BBC (S1); based on ACD's "Silver Blaze"
Characters: John, Sherlock, Silas Brown
WordCount: 585
Summary: They run and split, but Brown reaches John before Sherlock does.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The moment stretches and seconds turn to hours and it looks like slow motion to John when Silas Brown lifts the vicious whip in his hand.
Then time resumes it's ordinary speed and Sherlock flings the journals he has just been leafing through at Brown's head, successfully distracting him.
"John, run!" Sherlock grabs John's wrist, pulling him along and both run through the second door. Enraged yowling follows them and then loud footsteps.
For a moment John wonders why Brown does not raise the alarm, but then remembers Sherlock's earlier mention of Derbyshire.
Apparently Brown is too guilty to risk involvement of his staff.
Which also means that he can not just let them escape.
Sherlock has come to the same conclusion, possibly even before Brown entered the room and after a few more steps he pushes John down a different hallway.
"Hurry!" Sherlock throws back over his shoulder, before he speeds up and disappears down another hallway.
John runs down the one Sherlock pushed him into - belatedly realising that it is the one directly leading to the yard, while Sherlock took a detour, all the while ignoring the growing pain in his bad leg.
It does not even take a minute for John to burst outside and he starts to limp down the stairs. Just as his wounded leg touches the last step, a jolt of pain races through the leg and the muscles stiffen.
With a groan John falls forward, landing on his hands and knees and scrapes them badly.
Now with the momentum of the flight lost, John is taken over by immense pain from his leg and his harsh breathing appears loud in the night.
He massages his leg, hoping to relax the muscles, when the sound of crunching gravel interrupts the silence.
John looks up at Silas Brown, standing in front of him with his whip raised and a manic grin on his lips.
John is barely able to roll to the side, when the whip sings and splashes against the stone. But Brown swings it again and John is still not able to get to his feet.
Searing pain covers his back and John shouts painfully, falling flat on his stomach. Three more biting swipes of the long whip cover his back from shoulder to hip, before a heavy boot connects painfully with his stomach.
John is lost amid burning and bruising pain and just when the world is about to turn black, a choked cry reaches his ears.
The next moment Sherlock tackles Brown with fury burning in his eyes.
John hears the struggle, hears the grunts and shouts of pain, but it is an almost silent gasp which makes him open his eyes.
Sherlock kneels a few feet away, a bloody hand at his temple and Brown, now with a club as weapon, stands threatingly over him.
And time slows down again, seconds turn to hours and John sees Brown lift the club in slow motion.
John will never be able to explain how he was able to do it, but he stumbles to his feet and staggers forward, his eyes fastened to his friend's defenseless croach.
Just as time resumes it's ordinary speed, John leaps with his arms outstretched as far as possible in Sherlock's direction.
"Sherlock! Look out!"
The last thing John remembers his how his hands touch his friend's unprotected back and push.
He never felt the crack of bones as the club hit his head.
Everything just turns black ... and time stops.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Theme: July Writing Prompt 2014 #19 - July 19
Prompt: Whump whump whump, yeah yeah yeah: Let's get back to our roots today, shall we? Whump Watson. Whump him well.
Author: Alaylith
Rating: PG
Universe: BBC (S1); based on ACD's "Silver Blaze"
Characters: John, Sherlock, Silas Brown
WordCount: 585
Summary: They run and split, but Brown reaches John before Sherlock does.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The moment stretches and seconds turn to hours and it looks like slow motion to John when Silas Brown lifts the vicious whip in his hand.
Then time resumes it's ordinary speed and Sherlock flings the journals he has just been leafing through at Brown's head, successfully distracting him.
"John, run!" Sherlock grabs John's wrist, pulling him along and both run through the second door. Enraged yowling follows them and then loud footsteps.
For a moment John wonders why Brown does not raise the alarm, but then remembers Sherlock's earlier mention of Derbyshire.
Apparently Brown is too guilty to risk involvement of his staff.
Which also means that he can not just let them escape.
Sherlock has come to the same conclusion, possibly even before Brown entered the room and after a few more steps he pushes John down a different hallway.
"Hurry!" Sherlock throws back over his shoulder, before he speeds up and disappears down another hallway.
John runs down the one Sherlock pushed him into - belatedly realising that it is the one directly leading to the yard, while Sherlock took a detour, all the while ignoring the growing pain in his bad leg.
It does not even take a minute for John to burst outside and he starts to limp down the stairs. Just as his wounded leg touches the last step, a jolt of pain races through the leg and the muscles stiffen.
With a groan John falls forward, landing on his hands and knees and scrapes them badly.
Now with the momentum of the flight lost, John is taken over by immense pain from his leg and his harsh breathing appears loud in the night.
He massages his leg, hoping to relax the muscles, when the sound of crunching gravel interrupts the silence.
John looks up at Silas Brown, standing in front of him with his whip raised and a manic grin on his lips.
John is barely able to roll to the side, when the whip sings and splashes against the stone. But Brown swings it again and John is still not able to get to his feet.
Searing pain covers his back and John shouts painfully, falling flat on his stomach. Three more biting swipes of the long whip cover his back from shoulder to hip, before a heavy boot connects painfully with his stomach.
John is lost amid burning and bruising pain and just when the world is about to turn black, a choked cry reaches his ears.
The next moment Sherlock tackles Brown with fury burning in his eyes.
John hears the struggle, hears the grunts and shouts of pain, but it is an almost silent gasp which makes him open his eyes.
Sherlock kneels a few feet away, a bloody hand at his temple and Brown, now with a club as weapon, stands threatingly over him.
And time slows down again, seconds turn to hours and John sees Brown lift the club in slow motion.
John will never be able to explain how he was able to do it, but he stumbles to his feet and staggers forward, his eyes fastened to his friend's defenseless croach.
Just as time resumes it's ordinary speed, John leaps with his arms outstretched as far as possible in Sherlock's direction.
"Sherlock! Look out!"
The last thing John remembers his how his hands touch his friend's unprotected back and push.
He never felt the crack of bones as the club hit his head.
Everything just turns black ... and time stops.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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no subject
Date: 20/07/2014 03:52 (UTC)Oh, this is just BEGGING for a continuation!
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Date: 20/07/2014 06:36 (UTC)We will have to wait and see if the July gives us a fitting prompt for that. :)
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Date: 21/07/2014 06:32 (UTC)no subject
Date: 21/07/2014 12:10 (UTC)