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‘Spellbound All Hallow’s Eve’ Chapter 5: There’s No Escape When Fire Meets Fate

Janine lunged forward towards Molly, but her attack was dodged. Sherlock was able to grab hold of her wrist to disarm her quickly. The dagger clattered on the floor. He swept it beneath the bed with a swipe of his foot. Molly’s hands shot out, her magic suspending Janine in the air. Much to their surprise, Janine had broken from the spell, and sent Molly flying up against the wall.

“You’re a witch,” Molly realized. “What coven are you from?”

“Covens,” Janine scoffed. “I don’t belong to any coven. Why should I conform to their rules?”

“Because it’s the law!” Molly shouted. “Not that you have any consideration for any law.”

“Right you are, Molly. I won’t have any problem finishing you,” Janine spoke with malice.

“Over my dead body,” Sherlock snarled. He had texted Greg whilst Janine was bantering with Molly.

A growl ripped form Sherlock’s throat as his bones twisted into form. The pain was always agonizing, but he’d be damned if this witch was gonna hurt his wife.

“Figures you’d be a dog,” Janine remarked.

Sherlock snarled at her remark, ready to lunge if she didn’t let Molly go.

“Say goodbye to your wife, Mister Holmes.”

“Sherlock, no!” Greg shouted, bursting into the room. His presence distracted Janine enough to let go of her hold on Molly. “I’ve got this one, mate. Cool off.”

Molly sighed in relief, slinking down to the floor in exhaustion. Sherlock padded his way to her, and nuzzled his head against her cheek.

“I’m alright, you sappy ball of fur,” she laughed lightly. “Come on, let’s go home.” Molly put a glamour on Sherlock so others wouldn’t be able to see a large wolf walking down the street.

“Hey, where’d he go?” Greg asked whilst he cuffed Janine.

“Invisibility spell; wouldn’t wanna cause a city-wide panic,” Molly replied.

“He can’t shift back?”

“He can, but not unless you’d like to see him in a state of undress,” she smiled with amusement.

“Best get ‘im home, then,” Greg agreed.

Two Days Later

Molly finished the final touches of her Victorian costume, complete with corset, petticoats, and a pale blonde wig styled to her liking. Her earrings were anatomical hearts made out of gears from watches. She liked to have a bit of steampunk incorporated into her ensemble. Sherlock had looked devastatingly handsome with his inky black hair slicked back. She had helped him adjust his cravat perfectly before changing.

Only a few minutes before they’d be leaving, and another vision hit Molly. She felt dizzy from the quickness of it, but it offered her the explanation of her last vision with Sherlock and the evil man who sounded an awful lot like—

“Molly, just a couple more minutes,” Sherlock called out to her.

“Be right there, darling,” she replied.

Quickly she gathered ingredients from the chest her grimoire was stored away. It only took a few seconds to mix the concoction in the potion vial. She watched as the color transitioned from electric blue to a deep purple indicating that it was finished. This would definitely save Sherlock from the fate in her vision.

“What’s that?” Sherlock asked from the doorway. He gazed at his wife in awe. She looked beautiful in her Victorian costume. A part of him admitted how well the style fitted both of them, and he began to wonder what life would be like for them in such a time.

“Oh, just a safety precaution,” Molly assured him. “Mrs. Hudson has Victoria for the night, and I am determined to have a wonderful time with my husband.”

The party was already in full swing when Sherlock and Molly arrived. Mary greeted them both with kisses on their cheek, leading them through the mass amount of guests. Sherlock’s mind was whirling as he tried to scan the room to find anyone out of place. He was deeply worried for Molly’s safety even though he was the one nearly bleeding to death in her vision.

They were stopped by John who was in the midst of a conversation with Stamford.

“Molly! Sherlock! How are the two of you on this Hallow’s Eve?” Mike asked them, joyful as ever.

“We’re doing just fine, Mike. And yourself?” Molly inquired.

“Oh, wonderful, really,” he replied. “Bloody fantastic!”

Sherlock knitted his brows, pulling Mary aside.

“You’ve done something with the punch haven’t you?” he deduced.

“Maybe a little something…just to keep everyone happy,” Mary answered him. “I don’t see what’s wrong with that.”

“It may actually be a good thing in this case—Molly and I have reason to believe Moran’s partner in crime will crash the party,” Sherlock explained. “He may already be here. If we find someone avoiding the punch, or someone less than happy, we’ll have our culprit.”

“Well, I do hate party crashers, so do what you must,” Mary told him. “And please, if there’s anything I can do to help you bring him down, let me know.”

Sherlock nodded in agreement.

Molly, having overheard the conversation, pulled Mary aside as well.

“Did you mean it? You’re willing to help us?” Molly whispered.

“Yes, of course! Do you need me to do something?” Mary asked.

“I may need your help with something, yes, but you mustn’t tell anyone until I say so—not even Sherlock,” Molly informed her.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re about to do something reckless?

“That, my dear Watson, is because you know me too well.”

He watched from a far corner, away from the crowd. No sign of Holmes yet, but the great consulting annoyance was bound to show up eventually. Of course, he didn’t expect Sherlock Holmes to have dressed in Victorian garb for the occasion. For once, it made him blend in, becoming invisible to the Irishman.

But wait—there he was in all his prideful glory. Sherlock Holmes had just descended the stairs in his trademark Belstaff and scarf. The Irishman followed him through the crowd and out the back door.

“I knew it was you. I didn’t want to believe it, but here you are, flesh and blood…James Moriarty.”

“If you are thinking I am my twin brother, you are incorrect, Mister Holmes.” He paused a moment. “I do share the same name with my deceased twin, but that is precisely why I’m after you and your wife. You banished him from this Earth. Your wife hexed him long before the two of you met, and then he died on that rooftop where you should have perished as well.”

James Moriarty circled his enemy as he spoke, waiting for the right moment.

“Quite the motive, but I—“ Sherlock tried to fight as soon as the cloth his mouth. The chloroform was too strong. It wasn’t long before he was out cold.

“Mary, have you seen Molly?” Sherlock asked. “I’m terribly worried something is wrong. I can feel it.”

“She had just gone out back, but Sherlock, you should know—“

But he was no longer listening. He raced outside to find no sign of her anywhere. However, he did find one of the buttons off his coat.

“How did this get here?”

“That’s what I need to tell you,” Mary spoke up.

“Tell me everything.”

“What exactly are we doing again?” Mary asked, making space in the spare bedroom.

“Shifting spell,” Molly replied as she drew the pentagram on the wood floor with chalk. “Take the clothes out of my bag, will you?”

Mary did as was told, gasping when she took the first piece out.

“Sherlock’s coat…Molly are you crazy!?”

“It’s the only way to make sure he doesn’t get hurt,” she justified her reasoning.

Mary watched as Molly sat in the middle of the pentagram, swirling around a deep purple potion. After uncorking it, she drank it down quickly whilst making a face that told Mary it tasted awful. She began to chant in Latin, completing the process. Nothing happened at first, and then the pain began. Growing nine inches taller could definitely take a toll on anyone. The bone structure in her face changed as well, making the transition complete.

“What do you think?” a baritone voice asked.

“Blimey, it changed your voice too,” Mary was shocked at how efficient the spell was. Without a doubt, she was looking at an exact replica of Sherlock Holmes. “I just don’t understand.”

“My last vision ended with Sherlock’s last words being ‘gotcha,’” Molly explained. “The only plausible explanation is that I trick him into thinking I’m Sherlock.”

“Then you’ll be the one bleeding out; I can’t let you do this, Molly,” Mary argued.

“It’s already been done. I have to protect my family, no matter the cost,” Molly pointed out.

Mary couldn’t argue with that. She would take a bullet for her family…and the Holmes’s.

“Do what you must, but I will tell Sherlock if you wind up missing,” Mary told her.

“That’s precisely what I’m counting on, Mary.”

Author’s Note: Now what'd y'all think of that? So many revelations in this chapter? Which one was your favorite? Since it is midnight here, it's officially my 23rd birthday! So, my gift to y'all is another chapter! All I ask are your lovely reviews in return!

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