Sherlock slowly shuffles through an alley. The hunger inside of him almost making him go crazy. His body yearns for blood, making his nerves burn with hot fiery pain. His body shaky, he tries to support himself on the nearby wall, but he slips and his legs give in. Weak Sherlock lays on the floor. His sharpened senses telling him there is someone coming closer. He can barely think. The word "blood" running through his head, over and over again.
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