Boyfriend Development Program

night.

It was pitch black all around, with no stars or moon.There is a continuous drizzle in the sky, pattering and pattering in an attempt to sink the entire city. Occasionally, the wind from the north passes through the quiet alleys, whizzing past with a sense of dampness and coldness.As if deterred by this weird atmosphere, the originally busy street was empty, only a few intact street lamps shone at two o'clock, barely illuminating the dank road.

In the distance, there was the sound of a car's sudden brake, and the sharp sound cut through the deathly silence of this side.

Not long after, there was a sudden sound of hurried footsteps on the silent street, from far to near.

Gradually, the footsteps became heavier and more clearly audible.In the next second, the dim light suddenly reflected two figures passing by: the shorter one was wearing a black leather jacket, and the taller one was wearing a gray-black windbreaker with his signature curly hair. ——Surprisingly, it is John and Sherlock.

The two strode past the streetlights, their gestures hurried but still calm, and they stood in front of the London Museum not long after.

I don't know if I said hello in advance, but the London Museum is closed today.

John raised his head, and with the bright lights in front of the museum, he looked at the landmark building in front of him: the towering spire was submerged in the darkness, and the walls were painted with various reliefs and pictures.The dim orange lights illuminate the entire majestic building, making these decorations more vivid.There are two statues standing at the entrance of the museum. John carefully distinguishes them. One looks like a woman quietly flipping through a book, and the other is two children playing. At the moment, it is covered with a layer of orange under the light. The gray light did not appear more majestic or beautiful, on the contrary, it added a bit of ghostliness. In this dark rainy night, it was eerie and terrifying.

The little man also noticed something flash across his pale face as his good roommate squinted at the two sculptures for a moment—too quickly for him to make out.

John's lips twitched, hesitating as if he wanted to say something.

"Zizizi—" At the same time, the street lamp behind them—about four or five meters away—suddenly made a piercing sound. John habitually glanced back, only to see that the street light was on and off for a while, as if the circuit connection was not smooth.Due to the ever-changing weather in London, it is very common for street lamps that are exposed to rain to suddenly short-circuit, but in this environment...

Thinking of this, the little man glanced around, his heart felt inexplicably cold, and he even had the illusion that "something seems to be lurking in the darkness, ready to move".Suddenly, a gust of wind blew by, and a few drops of cold rain blew on John, and he subconsciously tightened his leather jacket: This cold weather in August... For God's sake, no matter how you look at it, it feels very abnormal ah!

"Line fault?" Trying to drive away the strangeness in his heart, John asked.

Hearing this, Sherlock glanced at him calmly, and said in a neutral tone, "London's street lights." The very normal words even contained some kind of "Sherlock-like" sarcasm, but also carried a certain strange power , let John's heart relax -- this calmness infected him. "Get rid of your ridiculous eyes staring at the streetlight!" Sherlock's tone rose slightly, and he also gave John an exaggerated expression, "John, we don't have much time."

He glared angrily at the curly-haired man, but the faint tension in the little man's heart was suddenly swept away, and he pursed his lips and quickly followed the consulting detective who had long since abandoned him.

At the same time when the figures of the two disappeared around the corner, behind them, the two statues standing at the entrance of the museum suddenly moved, and instantly regained their calm.

The dark rain is drizzling, covering the sky and covering the ground.The gloomy street lamp finally gave up struggling and completely fell into the embrace of darkness.

Soon, Sherlock and John walked around a dark path to the back door of the building, and quickly dodged through a narrow door familiarly.Soon, spiraling stairs appeared in front of the two of them. John looked down, and saw a large area of ​​darkness rushing towards his face, and he couldn't see the end at a glance.

"Hey——" Sherlock reached out and took a torch from the wall, struck it with a match and lit it.

John did not hide the surprise on his face: "Oh my God! Torches! Are we living in the 19th century! Uh, I mean, how could there be such a thing as a 'torch' under the London Museum, and the most important thing is What's more, Sherlock, you know how to use a torch!"

"Oh come on, my poor John, the torch is barely considered a cultural relic." The curly-haired man shrugged his shoulders, "As for my ability to use... Please remove those ridiculous sighs you may have when you write a blog next time Chants like 'oh my god my roommate, sherloes who doesn't know anything but solve crimes can use torches' 'oh my god that's the most shocking thing I've seen this year - sherlock can use torches' Wonders of the world! Sherlock can finally have a human skill'...these."

John couldn't help laughing out loud.He coughed. "So, um, 'great, omnipotent sherloes who can even wield torches'—how about that?"

Sherlock pursed his lips, and made a faint moan, and his high cheekbones—if John read it right—flickered with a smug smugness.

There was a look of extreme joy on the little man's face.

……

After walking along the stairs for about ten minutes, the surrounding scenery is still the same: winding stairs, rough walls, and bottom with no end in sight.Only the sound of the hurried footsteps of the two going straight down made the dead silence a little bit more angry.

"How long?" After a few minutes, John finally couldn't help but speak.

Sherlock's voice was as cold as ever: "3 minutes and 26 seconds."

john: "..." - uh, such a precise number... well, never underestimate the sensitivity of consulting detectives to numbers.

Then, 3 minutes and 26 seconds later, they successfully reached the underground, which is the underground warehouse in the mouth of "sherlock".

Someone had already arrived at the warehouse earlier than them, and they were both taken aback when they saw each other.Under the light of Sherlock's bright torches, they couldn't hide from each other, and they could distinguish each other carefully: they held a dim lamp in their hands, coupled with their iconic attire, good guy, those two were clearly their good neighbors——Sam and dean!

The atmosphere froze suddenly.

"Sam, Dean, good evening." John licked his lower lip and greeted the equally stunned neighbor.

"Uh, good evening." Dean was taken aback, and quickly showed a charming smile, "What a coincidence, I didn't expect to meet here." Almost not dazzled by the smile, John subconsciously looked at Sherlock beside him, secretly He muttered, "Why are the people around me all movie kings".And his good roommate really lived up to his evaluation, and quickly put a bright smile on his face, "It's a coincidence that you are here too... for a walk?"

"Cough, cough, cough." Seeing that his sweetheart said such words without changing his expression, the little man choked on his own saliva, and coughed violently beside him.What made him speechless the most was that Dean actually smiled and said, "Almost."

John and Sam looked at each other, seeing helplessness in each other's eyes.

For some reason, there was a sense of sympathy for each other for a moment, and then silently returned a smile to the other party.

A slight sound was heard in the air.

Sherlock paused, and his piercing voice cut through all the false greetings: "There is a situation!"

When the voice fell, everyone stopped all actions and held their breath.Sure enough, listening with one ear, the sound of "咔咔咒" was immediately audible, resounding in the warehouse that suddenly fell silent.

The flames "beeped", embellishing the more dignified air to make it more peaceful.

Sherlock stared at the darkness in front of him, —— people are always afraid of the unknown, this is instinct, even the unique consulting detective in the world is not immune.Suddenly, as if remembering something, he stared at the front and shouted loudly—from the tone, he said to John: "Damn it, it's the Weeping Angel! John, stare ahead, don't blink! Don't even blink! "

"Why?" John was taken aback when he received the order suddenly, but he followed Sherlock's order without hesitation, staring at the darkness in front of him, "Could this stop the crying angel?"

"Oh, your little brain finally had a flash." Sherlock still had a damn tone, "Remember what I said, they're sculptures! Stones can't kill people, and you can't kill them either,—that doesn't mean anything." No doubt. But don't forget, they are alien creatures, you can't turn your head, you can't even blink your eyes, as long as you don't look at them, they can move, and finally succeed in killing you, perfect!...Of course, they can't kill you , as I mentioned earlier, will only send you to the past!"

Sam suddenly interjected: "Is this how Will Graham died?"

Sherlock glanced at him, a gloomy gleam appeared on his pale face: "Yes."

"Ka Ka Ka"!

Just as he was distracted, the sculpture in the darkness moved forward for a while!

John turned his head sharply and stared at the front, only to see that in the flashes of lightning, his usual peaceful (expressionless?) stone face changed to the ferocious face of a weeping angel, sharp teeth, raised hands... and even his eyes The fierce light of the sky is right in front of you!

There was another "cracking" sound.

Sam shouted: "There are also over here!"

Dean's voice also sounded: "Damn it, it's here too!"

"Don't disperse, we're back to back, and all four corners must be taken care of!" At this moment, John finally showed his courageous demeanor as a former military doctor, took a step back, and shouted, "Damn it, how many weeping angels are there!"

"Oh I think I can tell you, eight," Sherlock replied as he stepped back.

"What!" John shouted in disbelief, "Didn't you say there is only one sculpture!"

Sherlock replied blankly, of course, the excitement in his eyes gave away his mood——no one noticed: "You forgot about the sculptures in this museum, including the two we saw in front of the door, they are all Weeping Angels... Judging from the situation in front of us."

The weeping angels are getting tighter and tighter, and the space left for them is getting narrower and narrower. They can only gather towards the center while talking.

And in just a few minutes, the distance between each other was shortened to only a short three to five meters!

——"Damnit!"

The situation is at stake!

The author has something to say: Thank you, Miss Arakawa, for your long comment, and the bonus points are well received, okay?

Please also check the red envelopes of qyx and Miss Fanhuaxuejing.

ps. The first three comments in this chapter (will there be so many? I doubt it deeply, those who have already sent it will not be given away) will also get a red envelope~ Everyone just have fun, don’t dislike the impoverished scumbag author quq