2The Strange Adventure of the Alternate Universe
Countless readers of mine have queried the nature of the story I said I wouldn't publish yet in "The Final Duel", and as such, I believe I have no choice to publish this incredible tale, which I am still sure is a dream. Holmes, however, disagrees thoroughly.
The whole thing began shortly after the defeat of Moriarty on the Dutch steam ship Friesland. We had settled down, somewhat worried that Moriarty would return. I was reading a recent publication pertaining to surgery in my room, when, seemingly from nowhere, I heard a strange, deep, unearthly noise. Assuming it was one of Holmes' experiments, I ignored it and continued reading a section on the heart. To my great annoyance, it only got louder as time went on.
"Holmes! Keep it down in there!" I yelled, fed up with this aggravating distraction.
"Keep what down?"
"Your experiment!"
"I am not performing any experiment; I was reading this book I picked up from Barnes, down the street!"
Confused, I looked around as to the source of the noise. When I saw what it was, I had no idea what to think of it. There was some sort of infinite purple hole in the floor, rotating slowly, detached from any matter in the world. Occasionally, an arc of electricity jutted from it. Staring at the infinitesimal beauty of the portal for a few minutes, I eventually did the logical thing, and called Holmes to see it.
"What is it, Watson?" He asked, annoyed at my interruption of his undoubtedly fascinating book.
He looked at the gap in the universe for a few seconds, and then asked, "What is this, Watson?"
"I was hoping you knew."
"Watson, is that…thing getting larger?"
"Good lord, Holmes, it is!"
Indeed, the strange thing was getting much larger at a worryingly rapid pace.
"Run, Holmes!" I cried. Alas, it was too late. A great sound erupted from the hole, and a hundred thousand cameras seemed to go off around me all at once. I fell to the ground, and fainted.
What must have been several hours later, I woke up, still in the room, seemingly as if nothing had happened.
"Holmes?" I asked, quickly realizing I was alone. I guessed he had left the premises, and I climbed to my feet. Something seemed amiss, though. I walked to the window, and opened the curtain. What I saw was, quite possibly, the greatest shock I had ever received since I discovered Holmes was still alive. Rather than a drab, foggy street, I saw a bright, green forest. I stepped back, rubbed my eyes, and looked again, thinking I was hallucinating. It turned out that, no, I was not. After staring for a few moments, I saw Holmes walking around in the field. I opened the window, and cried his name.
"Watson! Come quickly, I've found something very interesting!"
Interested, I walked down the staircase, and met Holmes at the door.
"What have you found?"
"That." He gestured towards a strange creature, the likes of which I had never seen, resting on the front porch. It vaguely resembled a cross between a mongoose and an otter, but seemed larger.
"What on earth is it?"
"That's Artie!" Came a voice behind us. We wheeled around, seeing a man in a white coat holding a walking stick. "You folks live around here?"
"You own this…thing?"
"Well, I don't exactly own him. We're more…partners."
"I do not understand."
"See, we work together, along with some others, to win against other people that do the same."
"You mean, pit fights?" I said, shocked.
"Oh, goodness, no!" He said, offended at my admittedly rude accusation. "It is completely safe, and entirely legal. Say, Rembrandt, get over here!"
"Is this…Rembrandt another one of yours?"
"The first one I ever had, in fact!"
Another, even stranger creature walked in beside him. This resembled a beagle, but it stood on two legs, seemed to be wearing a beret, and had a tail like a paintbrush.
"What is that?"
"That's Rembrandt."
"No, I meant…what is it?"
"Oh, of course! You must not be from around here! Kanto, is it?"
"Erm, no, England."
"England? Never heard of it. Anyway, this is a Smeargle."
"A what?"
"A Smeargle."
"You're just making up nonsense!"
"No, I'm not! You're the one talking about stuff like England and nonsense!"
"May I, Watson?" Holmes asked, pushed me aside.
"My name is Sherlock Holmes, and this is Dr. John Watson."
"Oh, right, we never got a proper introduction, how rude of me. I am Professor Berkeley Larch."
"What are these strange creatures?"
"Artie's what we call a Furret, and Rembrandt is, as I've said before, a Smeargle."
"You said previously that you fight other people using these. Could you explain some more?"
"Ah, yes, of course. See, other people have different teams of creatures like these, and we make them do battle in safe, controlled environments. They speak using their own language, but I'm working on translating it."
"Now, this last question may seem strange, but I do not think this is even our world. We saw a purple vortex of some sort, and we ended up here, along with our apartment." Holmes gestured behind him, towards 221b Baker Street.
Professor Larch put his hand to his chin, and began humming a tune.
"I've got it!" He cried, snapping his fingers. "You traveled through a wormhole, and ended up in an alternate universe!"
"Preposterous!" Holmes and I cried, in perfect unison.
"No, no, it isn't preposterous at all! Please, come with me!"
He began walking off, past us, picking up the so-called "Furret" as he did.
"My lab is this way!" He exclaimed, breaking into a run. Interested in what was happening, we followed him at the same pace.
When we got to the town, we were even more surprised. All sorts of people were walking around, wearing many different clothes, and being followed around by ever stranger looking creatures.
"Holmes?" I asked, outside of the laboratory.
"Yes, Watson?"
"Where are we?"
"I don't know, Watson, I don't know. All I know is that we need to be very careful. I believe I saw an orange dragon whose tail was on fire."
"Oh dear." Holmes opened the door, and we walked inside.
"Excellent! You're here!" Prof. Larch seemed very excited at the prospect of people from an alternate universe in his laboratory.
"Could you hand me that acetylene torch? I'm working on the translator device."
Neither Holmes nor I had any idea what an acetylene torch was, and we asked.
"You know, the thing, that does the thing with the fire stuff!"
This description only increased our confusion.
"Perhaps it would help if we said we are from the 1800's?" I asked.
"Oh. Well, that would explain why you would wear that suit in public."
I gave a start at this insult.
"It's the blue cylinder, right there on the table."
I looked to my side and saw what he was talking about. Fascinated by its function, I picked it up and handed it to the professor.
"You may want to stand back." He picked up a metal mask, and I ran back to where Holmes was standing. Larch pulled a small trigger, and a white-hot flame burst from the device, sending sparks flying.
"Good lord!" I cried.
"Ha! I've almost got it!" Larch cried in ecstasy.
I could tell this adventure was going to be, without any doubt, the most singular we had ever encountered.
