DragonPrivate

"Sherlock! Don't leave me! I-" It was no use…that line had gone dead. Unable to move, barely even able to breath, John looked up at the figure of his best friend atop a building. "NO!" he shouted, beginning to run forward…but then he stopped. He had promised Sherlock he wouldn't move. He owed him at least that. Nonetheless, he couldn't bear to see his friend fall to his death…but he didn't dare look way. As his body flew from the top of the building, John felt himself take in a large breath of oxygen, nearly choking on it. The body hit the ground hard…and John felt a tear trickle down his cheek. Quickly, he ran over t

"Sherlock. That is your name, correct?" the strange woman stated. She wore a slim black suit, and resembled that of an authoritative man. Sherlock Holmes knew she was a woman, however. A very pretty one at that. He did not care about such things however, for he was tied up to chair, and the woman held a pistol in her hand. "Holmes." He said, his voice still calm and collected. "You will call me Holmes. You have no right to address me by my first name." The woman only chuckled, coking the gun and pointing it at the detective's head. "That no longer matters, Sherlock." She spewed with a smirk. "For in just a few seconds, you will die." As the

The Hatter sighed as he sat, his spoon set neatly on his tray, unused. He held his bowl of soup in his hand, sipping it straight from the container, still sitting on the chair her was first seen in. Who knows if he ever actually moved? But nonetheless, The Hatter sat there, enjoying the silence that Cheshire had many months ago agreed to give him during supper. The Hatter did not wish to take his late night pills, thinking they would ruin his creativity and originality, but he knew the best thing to do was not cause a ruckus… what he really looked forward to was sitting by the courtyard fountain, watching the stars while he sipped his ni

Alice sat, fiddling with the fringe of her dress as the therapist spoke about how they all had choices and what choices they made changed the way they lived their lives. She wasn't sure how it was good therapy…it just seemed like something a high school would have a lecture about. Instead of listening, Alice let her eyes wander to survey the familiar faces in the Session. To her right was March Harris, sitting in his chair Indian style and staring intently at the therapist. To her left was the new person…the one Alice had never met before. Heart Rouge, was her name. She seemed to be looking at her nails, more intent on whether they

The laughter could be traced back to a strange man, who seemed both attractive and fearsome. He sat in a small corner, even though he could have sat on a bed if he so well pleased. There were small hand prints in his red blood all around the walls. "March?" There was a mature yet feminine and helpless voice coming from the other side of the wall. "Yes Harte?" he asked her kindly. "I'm the queen of this wonderful place…so why do they try to poison me?" she asked, a thick British accent flowing through her lips. March Harris said nothing, staring at his small, bare, feet. "March?" the woman murmured unsurely when no answer came he

They say that he's not worth it and maybe I should forfeit... but I'm not ready to let go to let my feelings show. I want to hold his hand, he is my ocean and I am his land. I refuse to give up even if I seem like a pitiful pup.

Hope Hope for the future Hope that he cares Hope you move on Hope you find someone Hope you stop loving him Hopeless

We used to be joined at the hip compliments spilled from our lips. Now I say how much I hate you. But no matter what I do, I know this is never true. I was fool who tried to act cool. I don't feel cool. I just feel... Regret