by John Pirillo
Watson reached the rooftop first, his weapon drawn and ready to fire at the creature confronting the Jungle Lord.
He was about to fire when the creature turned to look at him.
Immediately, he relaxed his aim and lowered his weapon.
"Fire Watson!" Sherlock hollered.
Watson turned around and headed back the other way, ignoring Sherlock, almost knocking him down, as if he weren't even standing in his way.
The Jungle Lord warily circled the creature, not rushing him, taking the measure of the unearthly creature before him.
He spoke in Elvish, "Who are you?"
The creature blinked its eyes at him, but did not respond.
Sherlock ran up and leveled his weapon at the creature. Lady Shareen already had it covered from the other side of the roof, from where she had climbed up a fire escape.
"Who are you?" The Jungle Lord asked in French.
The creature remained motionless.
"It seems to not be able to hear you." Sherlock observed.
The Jungle Lord ignored Sherlock.
"I do not want to harm you." The Jungle Lord continued. "But if you continue hurting my people, I will have no other choice. If you are lost, let me help you.? The Jungle Lord pleaded, his voice rich with warmth and sincerity.
Lady Shareen, though, had no such charity, she made sure her pistol remained unwavering on its right eye.
Sherlock glanced around the rooftop, then saw Watson below, standing in the middle of the street. "What!" Sherlock cried out.
Then a huge vehicle came driving up the road. The driver's windshield was thick with snow, and lacked a clear view of the street ahead.
Lady Shareen heard Sherlock's cry and ran to the roof top edge. She spied Watson standing motionless in the street, the truck almost upon him.
"Grayson!" Lady Shareen cried out in her loudest voice.
He immediately leaped to her, prepared to defend her until he saw what was transpiring below. He dove from the ledge, caught a window overhang, then another and then dropped to the pavement as lightly as a cat.
He leaped, just as the truck was about to strike Watson.
Above, the creature turned towards Sherlock. Its eyes grew brighter a moment. Sherlock aimed his weapon at its right eye. "Lady Shareen. Take out the other eye!"
She fired her weapon the same time as he.
The creature recoiled as its eyes burst, erupting with a reddish matter that spattered the rooftop, where it sizzled and burned, causing the snow drifts there to melt rapidly.
It let out a cry so horrible that the hair on the back of Sherlock's head stood straight up, then it rushed him.
On the street below, the Jungle Lord struck Watson around the waist, grasping him with his strong arms, taking them both to safety on the other side of the rushing truck. It barely missed them as they rolled on the snow heaped pavement.
On the rooftop Sherlock swiftly ran to the roof top door he had exited onto the rooftop and slammed it shut in the face of the creature. It slammed into the heavy wooden door, causing it to splinter in several places.
Lady Shareen emptied her pistol into its body, but to no good, as it continued to smash at the door. Finally, she was out of bullets. The creature stopped smashing at the door and slowly turned around. It eyes were beginning to reform and take their original shape.
"Dear God!" She muttered in horror.
She let out the cry of a bull dragon and ran at the edge of the rooftop the same time as the creature charged her. Sherlock came out the door his weapon out, firing at the creature, just in time to see her leap from the rooftop.
Challenger and Conan stood in the storage room of the British Museum, the Museum Director, Hyamus Portashaw blustering in the doorway to Inspector Bloodstone, who had the room staked out with Constables, searching everything they could reach with their hands, and using step ladders brought with them to search the higher shelves.
"I hardly see the need for this." The Museum Director barked angrily. "No one will want to come to my museum if they keep seeing policemen here."
"The Constables will only be here a short while longer." Inspector Bloodstone said.
"I am losing very valuable time overseeing this."
"Patience. It will only be a short while longer."
"Really, Inspector? Your men have been here for over eight hours. They are on their third review of the contents of this room!" He blurted out miserably. "I had to miss my afternoon tea because of you."
The Inspector started to repeat himself again, when Conan saved him from saying something worse.
The Inspector rushed over. Conan and Challenger brought out a piece of metal, embedded in an ancient looking rock. "What is it?"
The Museum Director came over. "What did you find?"
"Is this a part of the original find of your escaped Mummy?"
The Museum Director's face turned bright red, and his voice went gruff and starch. "There is no such thing as an escaped Mummy. They are dead and shall remain so!"
Challenger gave the Director a sneer. "Well, this one appears to disagree with your assessment, Mister Director."
"Now tell me again, who you are, sir?" The Museum Director asked Challenger.
Challenger grabbed him by the throat. "Sir, lesser men have been removed from this world for less! Are you challenging my honor?"
The Inspector relished what Challenger was doing, but the law was the law. "Professor!"
Challenger looked at him, then let go.
The Museum Director began choking on his bile. "You shall pay for this insult!"
"Every moment I look at your pitiful presence is a debit against my soul." Challenger said, then turning his back on the apoplectic man.
The Inspector nodded to Constable Evans and he gently urged the Museum Director from the storage room.
"So what have you, Conan?"
Conan showed the Inspector the rock with the embedded metal. "I have seen this before."
Conan eyed Challenger, who took a deep breath, then said. "Jules and Wells."
The Inspector's eyebrows rose. "You saying they are in on what happened here?"
"Not as you might assume." Conan replied. "But I think it's imperative that we all speak to them at the meeting this evening with Sherlock and the others."
The Inspector blew a whistle and his men scampered from the room. He smiled at Challenger and Conan. "They were getting bored with the charade anyway."
"Thank you for your help, Inspector. That dreadful man would have made it impossible for us to do the necessary research otherwise." Challenger responded. with a smile.
Chapter Thirty -Two
The Jungle Lord was just disentangling himself from Watson when he heard Lady Shareen's bull dragon cry. He knew exactly what that meant, and looked up just as she flew from the rooftop. He and she had practiced this many times in Fairie at their home in the treetops there.
He smiled confidently and stepped forward several paces, holding his arms out.
Then something heavy struck him from behind, making it impossible for him to catch her.
Her scream tore the night open with terror as she plummeted towards her doom!
John Pirillo"Writing fuels the heart and soul!" Science Fiction, Fantasy and Adventure Tales to Take Your Breath Away!