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darnedchildSummary: Sherlock Holmes learns the shocking secrets of Molly Hooper's past. *Cue dramatic music and an evil laugh*
Rating: T
A/N - With apologies to H.P. Lovecraft - A modern retelling of Herbert West - Reanimator. Written for the 2017 Sherlolly Halloween fest.
Molly Hooper - (Assistant) Reanimator
Part Five - The Scream of the Dead
It was immediately clear to Molly that she needed to get out of Louth. Unfortunately, she couldn’t just pack her things and run after the Meynard funerals, no matter how much she wanted to. There wasn’t enough in her savings to live off of for any prolonged period of time, so finding a new job was a priority.
Two months later, she managed to secure interviews at a pair of hospitals and arranged to spend a week in London.
By the time she came home, she had accepted an offer at St. Bartholomew’s.
Rather than let Herbert find out she was leaving through the village grapevine, Molly thought it would be best to drive out to his place. She hadn’t seen nor spoken to him outside of the practice in over a month, but something compelled her to break the news to him in person.
His car was parked beside the house, but no one answered the door when she knocked. However, she could hear the muted sounds of “Mars” coming from somewhere inside. Herbert was a fan of Holst, and would often listen to the Planets while he worked in the lab; which meant odds were fairly good that he was home.
Molly went around to the house, and knocked on the back door. This time she heard the music stop, and after a moment she could see Herbert step through the cellar door into the kitchen.
He invited her in. “I wasn’t expecting you back until tomorrow. Where did you go, again? Off to visit your mom, right?”
He wasn’t usually the sort who made ideal chit-chat, so his behaviour began to put her on guard. Clearly he was trying to distract her from something. “No. I mean, yes, I did see mum for a brief visit; but I was actually in London. For a job interview. I’ve, uh, been offered a position in pathology at St. Barts.” She bit her lip and waited to see how he was going to react.
“That’s . . . Congratulations.” He smiled, but it didn’t come anywhere near his eyes.
“Thank you.” They stared at each other for a moment, and it was tense and almost combative. She felt the need to fill the awkward silence. “So, what have you been doing lately?”
Molly quickly regretted her question.
“Are you certain you really want to know?”
If anything, she was certain that was the very last thing she wanted. Her eyes darted to the door he’d come through. “What’s in the cellar?” She tried to make it sound as if she wasn’t dreading the answer. She failed.
He gestured for her to go down the stairs ahead of him. Against her better judgement, she did.
On the second-hand autopsy table in the centre of the room was a body.
“Where did you find this one?” It was telling that her first response was along the line of ‘Not again’ rather than shock and outrage at finding yet another corpse hidden away in Herbert’s home.
He hurried past her, fairly bouncing in excitement. “He came to me, and at the most fortuitous time. He’s a door-to-door salesman, which I didn’t even think existed anymore, but there you go.” Herbert patted the body’s foot. “He looked worn out, and you’re always reminding me that I should make more of an effort to be affable, so I invited him in for a glass of water and a sit down. Poor man had a heart attack while I was in the kitchen.”
Molly opened her mouth but nothing came out. She reached up to rub her temples and tried again. “And you just kept him here? Someone’s going to miss him.”
He scoffed as he pulled a vial of something she didn’t recognize out of the mini-fridge. It wasn’t the serum they’d been working on. That liquid had been more of a neon yellow-green that almost seemed to glow. This was electric blue, and looked as if it had come straight out of a bottle of window cleaner.
“No one has come looking for him in the last week and a half. Besides, he’s dead. It’s not as if he’s going to mind. As a matter of fact, he’d probably be proud that his sacrifice is leading toward a scientific breakthrough.”
“A week and a half?” She got stuck on that detail. Almost against her will, Molly found herself leaning over the body. There was no way that he had been dead for that long. His skin tone was still healthy, no visual signs of rigor or decomp. He would have looked as if he were merely sleeping if he’d been breathing.
Herbert nodded and held the vial out to her. “I told you we needed to try a different approach. Think of it as a new form of embalming fluid. He was here when he died, so I was able to stop the deterioration process almost immediately.”
Molly didn’t know if she should be impressed or horrified. Or both. Probably both.
He reached for the syringe of the reanimation serum that was already prepared and waiting next to the salesman’s body. “You are just in time to witness his resurrection. Would you like to do the honours?”
She shook her head and took a step back. “No. Thank you.” The polite words seemed at odds with the situation, but the social niceties had been ingrained in her for so long that they just slipped out.
This time it only took a few minutes for the first signs of movement. It started with a twitch of the toes, then muscles rippled and spasmed. The salesman’s eyes fluttered open. Then his lips began to move, as if they were forming words.
Reluctantly, Molly edged half a step closer, until she could hear wheezing breaths that passed across his lips. His eyes focused on her for a second, then rolled until they alighted on Herbert. Suddenly the salesman began to twitch and his hands curled into claws.
“What is it?” she asked him. “Does it-does it hurt?”
“Noooo,” the corpse whispered. Initially, she thought he was answering her; but then he reached for Herbert and his voice rose in panicked anger. “No, don’t come near me. What are you doing with that needle? Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me!” That’s when she realized he wasn’t reaching for the other man, he was holding up his hands to try to ward Herbert off.
இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—
Sherlock inhaled sharply through his nose. “Did he hurt you?”
West was clearly a psychopath. Up until that moment, Molly had gone along with his madness. But who knew how unpredictable he would have become if she had challenged him.
There had been a lot of deaths, but none of them had been at the direct hands of West. An actual murder, however, wasn’t something she would have been able to justify for the sake of science.
“No. He let me leave, and as I hurried up the stairs I heard the salesman scream and then silence. I don’t which was worse.”
“Then what did you do?”
Molly looked up at him with wide eyes, and then she shrugged. “I ran. I packed up whatever would fit in my car and I ran that night. I never went back.”
Part 1 / Part Six
Rating: T
A/N - With apologies to H.P. Lovecraft - A modern retelling of Herbert West - Reanimator. Written for the 2017 Sherlolly Halloween fest.
Molly Hooper - (Assistant) Reanimator
Part Five - The Scream of the Dead
It was immediately clear to Molly that she needed to get out of Louth. Unfortunately, she couldn’t just pack her things and run after the Meynard funerals, no matter how much she wanted to. There wasn’t enough in her savings to live off of for any prolonged period of time, so finding a new job was a priority.
Two months later, she managed to secure interviews at a pair of hospitals and arranged to spend a week in London.
By the time she came home, she had accepted an offer at St. Bartholomew’s.
Rather than let Herbert find out she was leaving through the village grapevine, Molly thought it would be best to drive out to his place. She hadn’t seen nor spoken to him outside of the practice in over a month, but something compelled her to break the news to him in person.
His car was parked beside the house, but no one answered the door when she knocked. However, she could hear the muted sounds of “Mars” coming from somewhere inside. Herbert was a fan of Holst, and would often listen to the Planets while he worked in the lab; which meant odds were fairly good that he was home.
Molly went around to the house, and knocked on the back door. This time she heard the music stop, and after a moment she could see Herbert step through the cellar door into the kitchen.
He invited her in. “I wasn’t expecting you back until tomorrow. Where did you go, again? Off to visit your mom, right?”
He wasn’t usually the sort who made ideal chit-chat, so his behaviour began to put her on guard. Clearly he was trying to distract her from something. “No. I mean, yes, I did see mum for a brief visit; but I was actually in London. For a job interview. I’ve, uh, been offered a position in pathology at St. Barts.” She bit her lip and waited to see how he was going to react.
“That’s . . . Congratulations.” He smiled, but it didn’t come anywhere near his eyes.
“Thank you.” They stared at each other for a moment, and it was tense and almost combative. She felt the need to fill the awkward silence. “So, what have you been doing lately?”
Molly quickly regretted her question.
“Are you certain you really want to know?”
If anything, she was certain that was the very last thing she wanted. Her eyes darted to the door he’d come through. “What’s in the cellar?” She tried to make it sound as if she wasn’t dreading the answer. She failed.
He gestured for her to go down the stairs ahead of him. Against her better judgement, she did.
On the second-hand autopsy table in the centre of the room was a body.
“Where did you find this one?” It was telling that her first response was along the line of ‘Not again’ rather than shock and outrage at finding yet another corpse hidden away in Herbert’s home.
He hurried past her, fairly bouncing in excitement. “He came to me, and at the most fortuitous time. He’s a door-to-door salesman, which I didn’t even think existed anymore, but there you go.” Herbert patted the body’s foot. “He looked worn out, and you’re always reminding me that I should make more of an effort to be affable, so I invited him in for a glass of water and a sit down. Poor man had a heart attack while I was in the kitchen.”
Molly opened her mouth but nothing came out. She reached up to rub her temples and tried again. “And you just kept him here? Someone’s going to miss him.”
He scoffed as he pulled a vial of something she didn’t recognize out of the mini-fridge. It wasn’t the serum they’d been working on. That liquid had been more of a neon yellow-green that almost seemed to glow. This was electric blue, and looked as if it had come straight out of a bottle of window cleaner.
“No one has come looking for him in the last week and a half. Besides, he’s dead. It’s not as if he’s going to mind. As a matter of fact, he’d probably be proud that his sacrifice is leading toward a scientific breakthrough.”
“A week and a half?” She got stuck on that detail. Almost against her will, Molly found herself leaning over the body. There was no way that he had been dead for that long. His skin tone was still healthy, no visual signs of rigor or decomp. He would have looked as if he were merely sleeping if he’d been breathing.
Herbert nodded and held the vial out to her. “I told you we needed to try a different approach. Think of it as a new form of embalming fluid. He was here when he died, so I was able to stop the deterioration process almost immediately.”
Molly didn’t know if she should be impressed or horrified. Or both. Probably both.
He reached for the syringe of the reanimation serum that was already prepared and waiting next to the salesman’s body. “You are just in time to witness his resurrection. Would you like to do the honours?”
She shook her head and took a step back. “No. Thank you.” The polite words seemed at odds with the situation, but the social niceties had been ingrained in her for so long that they just slipped out.
This time it only took a few minutes for the first signs of movement. It started with a twitch of the toes, then muscles rippled and spasmed. The salesman’s eyes fluttered open. Then his lips began to move, as if they were forming words.
Reluctantly, Molly edged half a step closer, until she could hear wheezing breaths that passed across his lips. His eyes focused on her for a second, then rolled until they alighted on Herbert. Suddenly the salesman began to twitch and his hands curled into claws.
“What is it?” she asked him. “Does it-does it hurt?”
“Noooo,” the corpse whispered. Initially, she thought he was answering her; but then he reached for Herbert and his voice rose in panicked anger. “No, don’t come near me. What are you doing with that needle? Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me!” That’s when she realized he wasn’t reaching for the other man, he was holding up his hands to try to ward Herbert off.
Sherlock inhaled sharply through his nose. “Did he hurt you?”
West was clearly a psychopath. Up until that moment, Molly had gone along with his madness. But who knew how unpredictable he would have become if she had challenged him.
There had been a lot of deaths, but none of them had been at the direct hands of West. An actual murder, however, wasn’t something she would have been able to justify for the sake of science.
“No. He let me leave, and as I hurried up the stairs I heard the salesman scream and then silence. I don’t which was worse.”
“Then what did you do?”
Molly looked up at him with wide eyes, and then she shrugged. “I ran. I packed up whatever would fit in my car and I ran that night. I never went back.”
Part 1 / Part Six