"": dreams.

Italics: thinking.

Bold: Letters and notes.

-/-: time lapse.

Chapter 1- First Bite.

"…beating heart. Panting breath. Hands gripping the sheets. Crimson blood sliding down an arched neck. Loud moans spilling from the open mouth. Sharp teeth biting into the pale flesh. Eyes wide open as they watched Moriarty retract his teeth to look up at him. Pupils dilated, Moriarty pants heavily as he gazes on his arch-enemy. He feels Sherlock's now paler skin under his fingertips, he sees the moister that had collected during the feeding giving him a shine in the dim lights. Moving up his body, Moriarty pressed his blood stained lips against Sherlock's. A moan escaping his lips at the taste of Sherlock's sweet taste and blood mixed together. Grinning as he pulled away, he leaned down so that his lips just touched the shell of Sherlock ear.

"Till next time"

Sherlock was greeted by darkness when he opened his eyes. He stared up at his ceiling, he had soon become accustomed to the many dreams of Moriarty that seems to plague him in the night. It was always the same. Moriarty would appear at his side, whispering words about food and pray, and suck his blood until he was full, always giving him a quick kiss before disappearing for a couple of days. Running a hand down his face, he found that his cheek was covered in sweat, no doubt from the feelings the dreams seemed to cause him nowadays. Getting up, he walked to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea, but not without looking at the clock first. The bright red numbers shown back at him, like they were mocking him. 3am they read. No wonder it was still pitch black outside he thought. However this was normal for Sherlock on nights that he had these dreams. He would wake up early in the morning and couldn't get to sleep, this also made time for him to settle down before John woke up to do some cases. Getting out of his thoughts, he reached over to turn the kettle on, hoping some tea may calm down his racing thoughts.

Why do I have these dreams? Why Moriarty? Why is he always bitting me like he's some sort of vampire? His thoughts consumed his head, even as the kettle whistled signaling that it was boiled. He didn't escape his thoughts until he saw a hand reach over and turn the kettle off from behind. Turning slightly he saw a half asleep John still in his pajamas standing behind him.

"S-Sherlock? What are you doing out of bed at this hour" he said sleepily. Turning around Sherlock took in the appearance of John. His hair was dishevelled, his eyes half closed and he was swaying slightly. Sighing he reached up to place his hands on both of Johns shoulder, turning him around and guiding him back to the bedroom while answering.

"Cases won't solve themselves John, no point sleeping when there might be a serial killer on the loose, why would I sleep when such fun is happening all around us?" seeing John nod, he knew he had got of this question for now, but come the morning he would have to answer more questions from John. Reaching Johns bedroom he opened the door and slightly pushed, watching as John went back to bed, he closed the door softly. Walking back to the kitchen to make his tea, he noticed that there was one already there waiting for him. Did I already make myself one? Did John? Picking the cup up, he walked into their shared living room, going to stand over in front of his case wall. His eyes widened as he found a new note hanging from the center of his circle that he made.

Drink up, I'll be back soon. JM

Glaring softly, Sherlock ripped the piece of paper of the wall and crumpled into within his hands. Throwing it the side, he placed hid coffee down on the side table, he entered his mind palace as he stared at the many connections he had made on his wall.

- 2 Hours Later-

John shuffled into the kitchen, ready to make a cup of coffee for himself. Turning towards the living room he spots Sherlock staring at the wall, shaking his head he grabs his mug and goes to sit in his chair, picking up the paper as he does. He opens the paper seeing today's headlines staring back at him in big bold letters "Local man found drained of his blood in front of kindergarten". John stares at the headline and the over to Sherlock wondering if he had seen the newest headline.

"Sherlock you wouldn't of happened to see the today's headline yet?" he asked not looking over to see if Sherlock had even heard him.

"Hmmmm, 37 year old man, brown hair, blue eyes, David Simpson. Found at 7:30 in the morning, by a couple of early morning walkers. Two puncture wounds to the neck. Police think vampire. I of course do not" Sherlock said without moving to see the case folder that Lestrade had dropped off just half an hour before. John got up from the couch, to the open folder, picking up the case notes from the police reports already collected.

"So you going to take it?" said john looking up at Sherlock for the first time, to see him looking at a sheet of paper with intense eyes.

"Sherlock?" he moved closer to Sherlock, trying to see the paper that seemed to hold onto Sherlock's interest so heavily. Before he could however Sherlock turned and walked out of the living room and into his bedroom. The only thing he was able to see before Sherlock turned were two letters: JM.

A knock at the door had John turning around to see Lestrade standing at the door, heavy coat on, case folder in hand. Smiling, he walked back to the kitchen in order to make him a coffee.

"Sherlock in?" Lestrade said, grabbing the mug John held to him. Walking to stand in front of the open case file the Sherlock had on his desk.

"He went into his room about five minutes ago" John said pointing over his shoulder, going back to his couch and opening the paper again. This time reading the article written about the murder. Both man heard the door open at the end of the hall, and the footsteps of one Sherlock Holmes enter the living room, dressed in his normal, black pants, white shirt and huge coat. Looking at the two man, Sherlock help a smile that was boarder line serial killer.

"Come now men we have a vampire to catch" he said as he walked out the door and the down the stairs to the awaiting cab. This being a common occurrence, John and Lestrade followed Sherlock almost immediately, laughing softly at his actions towards the new case. However both were unaware of what there were to face upon arriving at the crime scene.

Hi Guys! This is Soul, and if you haven't guess this is my very first fanfiction. SO please tell me what you think, if you liked it, if you didn't, any review would help me out so much! I've been so nervous to post this, because I'm not confident in my writing too much. Hope you like the story, and where it will go, if you have any suggestion for the plot or anything please don't hesitate to tell me!

Soul.