Posted by Bowen Cates on 3/7/2008, 9:20 pm, in reply to "Chapter xis part two"
24.207.121.197
Chapter 7: In Which There Is a Great Deal of Screaming
Theodore awoke the next day feeling miserable. Who knew what twisted version of the future he had now crashed in upon? Opening his eyes he glanced around the room, and then sat up so fast that his spine cricked ‘what kind of sick joke was this!’
Everything was the same! There was even, although a little more worn, the same hooked rug on the floor that he had noticed back in the ninettenth century. Had he not remembered every detail of his second time traveling experience he would have put it down to insanity…then he remembered his thoughts concerning the roof he had been careening toward most recently.
Remembering how familiar it had seemed…so that was it! Every time he ‘leaped’ he was fated to fall through the same roof, that of 221B Baker Street.
But what if he went to a century where it no longer existed? Would he fall though whatever had replaced it?
“What’s wrong with me? Why is this happening?” he cried, cradling his face in his hands.
Both his Hands
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”
He screamed at the top of his voice.
Someone was pounding their way across the floor, in metallic thumps “what the zed is wrong with him NOW!” demanded a female voice on the other side of Theodore’s wall.
The door swung open to reveal the same metal person he has glimpsed the day before.
“Whatever is the matter? Are you in pain?” upon seeing him, Theodore’s response was, predictably, to scream even louder.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, STAY AWAY FROM ME!”
“REALLY, YOU MUST CALM DOWN! WILL YOU PLEASE DISCONTINUE YOUR VOCAL EXTRAVAGANCES?”
The metal man roared over him, his voice projected in a way only a machine could accomplish, he hadn’t yelled so much as magnified his speaking voice. Theodore stopped screaming.
The droid - as Theodore thought he must be some kind of futuristic robot - advanced toward him; his head was that of the original Doctor John H. Watson, the rest…could not have been more different.
“Really, there is nothing to fear; perhaps you wouldn’t mind telling me what has frightened you to such an alarming extent?” he continued reasonably.
“My arm” Theodore volunteered shakily.
“Does it pain you?” he asked again in some bewilderment “I had thought I fixed the break.”
“You did that? How!”
“By regenerating it of course, standard procedure” the droid was now looking at Theodore with real concern “now what is so frightening about your arm?”
“It was broken yesterday!”
“Yes, and as I have explained to you, it is now mended” the droid said again with some annoyance.
“Who are you?” Theodore demanded
“My name is Watson,” and then, because of the distrusting look on the boy’s face “I am a compudroid.”
“How di-”
All at oncea precise step was heard coming up the stairs to the front room, a look of complete astonishment came over Watson’s face.
Excusing himself, he dashed toward the bedroom door, just as Theodore heard the sitting room door open, if he didn’t know better he would have thought that those steps sounded a lot like-
“HOLMES?” raged the same woman as before “HOW….WHAT, WHEN…WATSON GET OUT HERE!”
A bunch of raised voices followed this cascade of noise along with a great deal of hushed murmurings; Theodore could also hear some strange beeping thrown into the mix of unintelligible sounds.
Then more of those particular footsteps started toward the room beside Theodore’s. He heard the door creak open and a stunned silence hung heavy over the air for a few moments.
Now they started toward Theodore’s room.
Quickly he slipped out of bed and crawled underneath it, he didn’t know what he was thinking, fear pounded through his veins and he wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.
His door opened.
“You may come out from under the bed boy, as I am sure Watson has already told you, there is nothing to fear.”
Carefully Theodore pulled himself out from under the bed frame. The voice had been firm, but not unkind.
There in front of him stood Sherlock Holmes, not a scratch on him, all decked out in excellently tailored Victorian garb. A red vest and cream shirt with a light blue tie, dark brown cloth trousers and tan spats on brown leather shoes.
Theodore was so shocked that those foot steps had turned out to belong to who they belonged to, that he couldn’t speak. He could feel his throat muscles tighten painfully.
All the same, there was something different about this man, he was not the same one Theodore had come here with, well... he was…but he wasn’t. Theodore was drowning in questions.
“I would introduce myself but it would seem that we are already acquainted, you would perhaps like to tell me how you came to be here, and how you managed to bring my nineteenth century self with you? I would also appreciate a name.”
Theodore sighed; it was going to be a very long day.
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