This 221B is for my daughter, SecretMoustache2. She asked me to write one featuring a certain 'item', but said she would be happy regardless of the style of it. So, SM2, this is for you!
Disclaimer: The only thing I own here is my daughter...oh, and the story line!

Despite his experiences in Afghanistan, John didn't think he'd ever come across a scene of such carnage.

The crime scene was a terraced house, the bodies were in the master bedroom. Three generations of the same family, all hacked, not just to death, but well beyond the point at which they died.

Mercifully, Sherlock kept any snarky remarks to himself.

"It's hard to tell where one body ends, and the next begins." Lestrade said sadly. "Both grandparents, mum, and teenage daughter. No one heard anything until the dog next door started howling."

"Dogs are often sensitive to this sort of thing." John replied, earning himself a glare from the consulting detective.

"What about the other rooms?" Sherlock asked, flitting out of the door and along the landing.

"None of the other rooms have been touched." Lestrade called, hurrying after him.

John was still standing in the bedroom when two sounds caught his attention.

The first was a shout from Sherlock, something about a blood-stained man in the garden, and as one the consulting detective and the police officers present chased out after him.

The second was a faint mewling sound, coming from inside the wardrobe. Carefully pulling the door open, he shone his torch inside, biting back horror and distress as he reached in and lifted out a tiny new-born baby.