HLS No. 63: Adventure of the Baker Street Vampires
Two familiar heroes in an unfamiliar setting.
“Once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” Sherlock Holmes’s famous dictum has never been truer than in this vampiric story.
“Arise, Watson, and cast off your torpor!”
Thus commanded a voice I recognized as that of my friend, Sherlock Holmes.
Although the voice was known to me, my immediate surroundings were not, nor was I able to reconstruct in my mind a narrative that would explain my present disposition. As best as I could determine without opening my eyes—for Holmes had not exaggerated when he spoke of torpor—I was lying prone in a soft yet constricted space with very little ambient light. The surrounding air felt cold and clammy on my brow and carried a faint musty odour.
There was no question of rising. I was completely enervated—as weak as I had ever been. “Holmes—” I gasped, unable to speak or even ideate further thoughts.
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