Sherlock Holmes Darkest of Nights: Sherlock Holmes

By John Pirillo

A darkness has fallen on London, but few realize it.

One by one the clues mount, draw Holmes into the fray.

But soon he realizes the fray is much larger than suspected and now he will need not only his deductive powers, but the skills of all his friends.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Pirillo
• Release date: Jun 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393767497

John Pirillo

The author was born in Washington, Pennsylvannia. He loves animals and birds. Has two pet cockatiels that keep him company while he writes. He has a lovely daughter and a rascally grandson. He is rich in friends that matter and well adjusted to a life of challenges. He writes and draws every day. He loves anything science fiction, fantasy or extremely well written. Same goes for movies and TV. Not married currently, but has an eye and ear open to possibilities. :)

Book preview

Darkest of Nights

John Pirillo.

Copyright 2019

Table of Contents

Storm

What Roams the Night

Squire Donner

The Haunted and the Hunted.

Castle Dark

Clues in Blood

Weapon at the Ready

The Chase is On

Bloody Hell

Black Tower

Beast

Messenger

Purpose and Resolve

London Proper

The Diogenes Club

Creature of the Night

Demons of the Night

221B Baker Street

Bestial Attack

The Lord Dark

Once Human

Inspector Bloodstone

Watson and Friends

Front Porch 221B Baker Street

Queen Mary of Scots

Poison of Laurel

Growing Sense of Urgency

221B Baker Street

Vision

Pain and Past

No Reasoning with Self

The Darkest of Nights

221B Baker Street

Globe Theater

Storm

Dark, brooking skies embrace London’s normally bright city.

Hints of moisture fill the air.

Dark shadows flicker.

Lightning.

Thunder.

Horses rearing in fear.

Mothers dashing to bedrooms to quiet a crying child.

Drunk staggering to an alley with his eyes on a sky that he just knows bodes no good for him.

Flash.

Flash.

Thunder.

Cannon fire from God.

More thunder.

The last flight of bats flees the sound invading their sensitive hearing.

What Roams the Night

The scream of a Banshee , perched on a church steeple.

The howl of a wolf that walks on two feet.

The shrill call of a demon rebounds from damp, stench cloaked dark alleyways as they seek meat and souls to torture. Searching for the man or woman, or even child who has dared to seek its help and falls to its unholy seduction

Dark, unmentionable creatures haunt the streets for those not alert enough to avoid the darkening streets of Old London, for the newer Tesla lamp lit areas, which safeguard the masses from the predations of monsters that now roam more and more freely in the Dark Old London.

No one, not even the Lords and Ladies, will admit this section of London exists. But it does. And here all the evil and dark magics run loose and the diabolical creatures that are fed by them.

Squire Donner

Perhaps that was what had gotten Squire Donner to hurry to his home that night from a late meeting. One that he had no idea would run so late. He had scored a massive victory for his business fortune, which if allowed running its course could complete his rise to power in service of the Queen, and eventually himself if granted a Lordship.

The Hyde Street was ill lit as usual and he cursed himself for not having avoided it in the first place, both coming and going, for it had its rumors of death and dying, and of monsters seen and unseen to this day, even since the removal of the dread Hyde by Captain Nemo and the Brotherhood of Baker Street.

No ordinary citizen bought for a moment the coin that the streets were safe in Dark Old London, or even the better lit. For monsters roamed all the alleyways all the time these days. Even Inspector Bloodstone feared to put his men out alone to help the citizens for fear they would be brought down by the invisible forces of darkness that had been gathering to battle and bring down London and its peoples.

Curse this blasted darkness. Squire Donner said as he urged his horse to pull faster the carriage he sat upon. He had not meant to dismiss his driver, but the man's wife had been noted to be in labor and he could no longer keep him from his true duties as a husband, and had let him go as an act of kindness and trust, as the hour grew late. For a good mother without a husband was like a horse without a bridal. Rider-less.

He shivered suddenly at a sudden wave of cold that swept from the alley he had just passed, and hunched over, drawing his jacket and shawl tighter about his throat, as if that would ward off any evil that might be seeking him at that moment.

Some of us believe we might be able to find a