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What had happened?

Why had he blacked out?

Feeling the back of his head Basil looked around. Where was he?

Wait. He knew where he was. Where was Dawson? When had they gotten separated?

Questions stormed through Basil's mind. Even noticing his deerstalker was lying on the floor in front of him was just barely a distraction. Taking a deep breath, Basil put his deerstalker back where it belonged and got to his feet. If he wanted to find answers he couldn't stay there.

The stone walls was ice cold and wet to the touch as Basil walked down the dark hallways. His mind was still racing. He had to find Dawson and his client.

The client!

Basil stopped in his tracks.

"I DON'T WANT TO GO IN THERE! PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME! THE WHITE LADY WILL KILL US!" the client had screamed at the top of his lungs. Basil had rolled his eyes and dismissed the mouse. The White Lady. Pffft... Silly superstitions.

Yet, that was what went through Basil's head. The legend of the White Lady. How mice had disappeared in this very castle for decades, never to be found again. With his mind racing around the fact he had read about this place, Basil kept walking.

Suddenly there was a sound behind him and Basil turned. Nothing. Or was that a shadow?

"Dawson?"

Squinting, Basil tried to focus in the dark.

"Dawson, is that you?"

Taking a few steps towards where the sound had been Basil suddenly felt something by his feet. A candle? That hadn't been there earlier. He picked up the candle and lit it. One of the few good things about smoking was always having matches in his pocket. Finally he could see...

Startled and in shock Basil yelped back, nearly dropping the candle. The stone walls were covered in blood, splattered everywhere. Looking down at his hand Basil saw it was just as covered in blood as the walls he'd touched.

Blood wasn't an unusual sight to the great mouse detective, but it was splattered all over the walls and what baffled the detective even more was that is was fresh. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes since it was put there. But that was impossible. Basil had walked slowly down that corridor. He'd been alone. Even in this darkness without a light he would've noticed another mouse's presence.

The legend of this castle came to mind again. It always said blood covered the walls because of the White Lady's bloodlust.

"She paints the wall with her victims and gives a light of hope before she kills" his client had said. A chill ran down Basil's back.

Shaking his head Basil muttered to himself; "Focus. It's just superstition." Ignoring the blood on the wall Basil found his focus. He needed to find Dawson. Walking around the words of the legend echoed in his mind.

'Victims are surrounded in blood.'

Basil looked around, feeling the blood on his hand from touching the walls.

'She kills after giving a light of hope.'

Glancing down at the candle in his hand.

"No" Basil told himself firmly. It was a legend. A ghost story to scare children and believers. The supernatural doesn't exist. Everything has a logical explanation.

Another sound caught his attention and the light from the candle disappeared.

Someone was with him.

He wasn't alone.

Darkness.

----------------

This is my part of the Sleuth and the Supernatural Story/Art Collab at
It's a quick idea thing that I just wanted to try all of a sudden...

Both the picture and the story is very spontaneous so... Maybe I submit something else at a later point in time, but I'm still debating what I'm doing for another Halloween thing at another group...

Anyway... Have a small idea...

Basil from Disney's 'Great Mouse Detective' belongs to Walt Disney Pictures

Description
What had happened?

Why had he blacked out?

Feeling the back of his head Basil looked around. Where was he?

Wait. He knew where he was. Where was Dawson? When had they gotten separated?

Questions stormed through Basil's mind. Even noticing his deerstalker was lying on the floor in front of him was just barely a distraction. Taking a deep breath, Basil put his deerstalker back where it belonged and got to his feet. If he wanted to find answers he couldn't stay there.

The stone walls was ice cold and wet to the touch as Basil walked down the dark hallways. His mind was still racing. He had to find Dawson and his client.

The client!

Basil stopped in his tracks.

"I DON'T WANT TO GO IN THERE! PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME! THE WHITE LADY WILL KILL US!" the client had screamed at the top of his lungs. Basil had rolled his eyes and dismissed the mouse. The White Lady. Pffft... Silly superstitions.

Yet, that was what went through Basil's head. The legend of the White Lady. How mice had disappeared in this very castle for decades, never to be found again. With his mind racing around the fact he had read about this place, Basil kept walking.

Suddenly there was a sound behind him and Basil turned. Nothing. Or was that a shadow?

"Dawson?"

Squinting, Basil tried to focus in the dark.

"Dawson, is that you?"

Taking a few steps towards where the sound had been Basil suddenly felt something by his feet. A candle? That hadn't been there earlier. He picked up the candle and lit it. One of the few good things about smoking was always having matches in his pocket. Finally he could see...

Startled and in shock Basil yelped back, nearly dropping the candle. The stone walls were covered in blood, splattered everywhere. Looking down at his hand Basil saw it was just as covered in blood as the walls he'd touched.

Blood wasn't an unusual sight to the great mouse detective, but it was splattered all over the walls and what baffled the detective even more was that is was fresh. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes since it was put there. But that was impossible. Basil had walked slowly down that corridor. He'd been alone. Even in this darkness without a light he would've noticed another mouse's presence.

The legend of this castle came to mind again. It always said blood covered the walls because of the White Lady's bloodlust.

"She paints the wall with her victims and gives a light of hope before she kills" his client had said. A chill ran down Basil's back.

Shaking his head Basil muttered to himself; "Focus. It's just superstition." Ignoring the blood on the wall Basil found his focus. He needed to find Dawson. Walking around the words of the legend echoed in his mind.

'Victims are surrounded in blood.'

Basil looked around, feeling the blood on his hand from touching the walls.

'She kills after giving a light of hope.'

Glancing down at the candle in his hand.

"No" Basil told himself firmly. It was a legend. A ghost story to scare children and believers. The supernatural doesn't exist. Everything has a logical explanation.

Another sound caught his attention and the light from the candle disappeared.

Someone was with him.

He wasn't alone.

Darkness.

----------------

This is my part of the Sleuth and the Supernatural Story/Art Collab at
It's a quick idea thing that I just wanted to try all of a sudden...

Both the picture and the story is very spontaneous so... Maybe I submit something else at a later point in time, but I'm still debating what I'm doing for another Halloween thing at another group...

Anyway... Have a small idea...

Basil from Disney's 'Great Mouse Detective' belongs to Walt Disney Pictures