Notorious ~SuperLock~ *UNDER HEAVY EDITING*

Blood

        "Sherlock..." John whispered uneasily as he trailed after his companion up the hospital stairs. This part of the building was dark and silent, and the two men seemed to contrast with the tense atmosphere radiating off the walls. "Why couldn't we just wait? The labs open up in 2 hours." 

        "No time, Thursday is our deadline," the detective responded.

        "How would you possibly know that?" Sherlock didn't respond and pressed up against the wall, snaking his way up the remainder of the stairs before turning into the hall and heading towards the glass doors just a few feet ahead. The detective dashed forward silently and crouched in front of the door, picking at it the lock two strange utensils John wasn't able to make out in the darkness.

        There was a quiet click and the tall man stood up and opened the door, walking inside casually. Sherlock flipped a switch beside the entrance and a quarter of the dimmed lights flickered on. The detective shed his coat and gloves before retreating to the back of the lab where his usual spot was located along with his personal microscope. The man sat down onto the cushioned chair and slid out a small plastic baggie from his pants pocket. In it was a tiny piece of tattered cloth speckled with blood. 

        Sherlock grabbed a pair of tweezers from a nearby container, slipped on some synthetic gloves, and plucked out the cloth from the bag, sliding it into the Petri dish positioned underneath the microscope lens. John resided to the back to observe Sherlock, looking back at the lab door uneasily, expecting to see a guard or passerby which would get them caught. To his relief, no one passed by the lab.

        John returned his focus to his colleague, and after staring at the other man observe the strange piece of cloth for a few moments, began to grow restless.

        "You said you needed me here, why?" John questioned. Sherlock didn't reply, his eyes and mind scanning the small amounts of blood and blocking all other thoughts out. The doctor rolled his eyes and walked off, finding interest in a 3D printer he didn't expect to find in a lab.

        Sherlock zoomed into the blood sample even further until he was able to see a detailed visual of the cellular structures. What he saw confirmed his theories; some of the cells were a strange yellow pigment.

        "Sulfur," Sherlock stated aloud in monotone. John looked up from the printer and stared strangely at his flatmate.

        "What?"

        "Sulfur," Sherlock repeated. "That's why you're here." John furrowed his eyebrows and approached the desk Sherlock was working at, sliding into a seat and resting his elbows on the table.

        "What does sulfur have to do with me?"

        "Tell me, how can it be possible that there is thrice the amount of the normal sulfur percentage in a person's blood?" Sherlock questioned in response. 

        "What? It can't be," John exclaimed, rushing over to the microscope. Sherlock leaned to the side as the smaller man peered through the lens. "Bloody hell, you can see the damned things dying the other cells." 

        "I am aware of that, John," Sherlock responded. "All of the victims' blood samples show identical results; remnants of sulfur resided in their bloodstreams prior to death. The forensics reports I gathered stated that the sulfur wasn't seen in such vigorous amounts in antemortem blood tests conducted for all victims. The most recent victim proved this to be true, given that they died almost immediately after they left the hospital after getting bloodwork done. The sulfur wasn't there, and the only reported abnormality was the person's behavior after their visit to the lab."

        "Abnormality?" 

        "Well, given that the receptionist was in hysterics after the whole scenario, her report was almost automatically discarded; I wouldn't consider it credible; she claimed that the victim walked out of the lab, approached her desk, and wished her farewell," the detective said.

        "How is that strange?"

        "That's what I thought myself until I read the rest of the report," Sherlock stated.

        "And what did you find?" John pressed on the issue. Sherlock licked his lips and sighed, unsure of what to think.

        "The...receptionist claimed that the person's eyes were completely black."