Tag: story excerpt

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December 11th excerpt:

When nothing turned up there, Sherlock got up to repeat the process around the room. He paused, squinted and leaned over the worktop to scrutinize a minuscule smudge. There were a few tiny dots of blood, long since dried, a short distance from the book pile where the knife had been found, one of them spread thin in the vague impression of the toe of a minuscule boot.

A tiny foot kicks Sam’s knife across the surface, hard enough to cover several inches in distance.

Sherlock frowned at the image that flashed in his mind. If Sam was truly in danger from another human, why would he rid himself of his sole weapon? Unless he wasn’t alone…

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December 10th excerpt:

If it wasn’t for the dire circumstances they were in, Dean’s face would have been painted with fascination at the chance to work with the tools Sherlock used on his cases. As it was, he set to his task with no wasted energy, carefully mopping up every drop of blood that speckled Sam’s knife. The murky gleam of red was soon replaced by the more familiar shine.

Dean’s small size made it simple to get the blood right on the tip of the paper. It was like working with oversized construction paper, and since the blade was made for Dean’s size, he didn’t have a problem.

A small mimic of Sherlock, Dean sat back on his heels, holding up the folded paper circle for Sherlock to take, its white surface marred by the ring of drying blood.

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December 9th excerpt:

“Whoa– hey,” Sam uncurled, his own worries put aside as Anita began to cry. He reached out a tentative hand, putting it on her shoulder and gently coaxing her to face him.

“You didn’t do it, right?” Sam asked, funneling what little calm he could find to her. “You don’t have to be so upset. And when Dean finds us,” and he will, Sam swore inside his head, “you’ll be free too. I promise.”

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December 8th excerpt:

“Ah-ah, easy now, boy,” he murmured, his tone halfway between a scold and a coo. “You know you can’t see her until you’ve earned it.”

Geoff sneered as Euan passed. “I still can’t believe the big boss lets you play with the twins,” he grumbled, a teasing grin plastered to his face.

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December 7th excerpt:

“No, no, no…” he murmured, almost a moan as he stalked back and forth in front of the door. If he stopped to think, he’d curl into a ball and never come back. Trapped. No way out unless a human let him out. His pulse pounded and his breathing came in short bursts as he tried to keep from panicking. Panicking now would just make him more susceptible to his captors, easier to control.

Twisting around, Sam took in the rest of the cage. This time, he noticed the girl trapped with him, her dark skin a contrast to his pale.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sam asked kindly, seeing how terrified she looked.

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December 5th excerpt:

Dazed and bruised, Sam was operating wholly on instinct as he heard someone entering the flat. “You son of a bitch,” he slurred, weakly trying to push his arm from where it was braced to pin him down.

Instincts guided his other hand, and Sam’s fingers wrapped around a familiar hilt. One he’d always kept at his side, but never wielded against another person.

In a flash, Sam’s silver knife was at the man’s throat, trying to force a stalemate.

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December 4th excerpt:

Almost in time with his hook falling, Sam stiffened. An icy cold shudder ran up his neck even as the warning tingle started to burn, and the sound of the front door being tampered with almost screamed at him. Never had Mrs. Hudson incited such a strong reaction in his knack, and even Sherlock was dulled down compared to it.

Sam whirled in place. “We’ve gotta go,” he said hurriedly, trying to think of any entrances Dean kept close to the end table. “We’ve–”

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December 3rd excerpt:

“Ooh, nice one!” John snickered, his foul mood lightened in the presence of the Winchesters. Even when they were bickering or pounding each other into the floor, they both had a certain charm that was almost guaranteed to lift John’s spirits.

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December 2nd excerpt:

“Mornin,’ doc!” Dean called gamely, keeping his eyes trained on Sam. “Learned it all from my dad!”

During Dean’s brief distraction, Sam took advantage of his only chance to get out of the pin, knowing Dean could keep him in place. Sam kicked out, tossing Dean off balance, and then aimed his kick at Dean’s side, smoothly knocking his older brother to the ground and reversing their positions.

“You were saying?” Sam grinned, one hand around Dean’s throat to keep him from trying to get up.

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December 1st excerpt:

Sam’s head was on a swivel as he stepped towards the keys, taking it all in. He’d seen laptops operated before, but this was his first chance to see it all from up close. The screen loomed overhead, a search engine ready and waiting for him as he committed it all to memory. The powerful whirr of the hard drive came from underneath his boots, and Sam could swear his feet felt warmer than the rest of him.

Dropping his satchel down at the edge of the keyboard, Sam pulled out a blank sheet of paper and his pencil tip, just in case he needed to remember anything. He stuffed them both in his jacket pocket, pacing over to the trackpad. He knelt down, swiping his entire hand over the flat surface and was pleasantly surprised to see the mouse react to his touch the same way as it did for John or Sherlock’s fingers. It took him more work, but a few swipes moved the cursor over the entire screen, Sam slowly getting used to using it.

He clicked the search bar, then paused, realizing he had no idea what to search for first.