"The Adventure of the Sentient Snow"
By Dr. John Watson, M.D.
Chapter I: The Doctor
I recall that the winter of 1892 was one much colder than those to which I was accustomed. There had been an even greater abundance of snow than usual, and it was this fact that would lay the foundations to the adventure I was about to have. Little did I know it, but my life was about to reach it pinacle.
I must say, I have not picked-up my pen since the most tragic death of my greatest friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Though it is now over a year since he left us, I fear his memory may be becoming impeached by what has happened lately. It is this development that has put me in the position in which I need to recall the events before I no longer can.
On 23rd December 1892, I returned from the courthouse after a long and arduous case. The governess of the Montague mansion had been missing for some time, however, Inspector Lestrade concluded that the cause of death was drowning in the pond, which had been frozen-over the day the snow began to fall. I tell you this, because the snow had fallen over a year ago and had not stopped since. It must have been shortly after arriving home from Switzerland, where Holmes finally disposed of the greatest criminal mastermind of all time, that the snow began to fall. I believe it was 1st October. This information is the kind of trivia Holmes himself would keep, but I've felt somewhat of a responsibility to update his weather logs whenever I can. They have been of use in some of our many cases. I've done so with the belief that one day, it will be of use to me again. It was this case that brought to mind these books, and thusly I set-about home as soon as I could to gather further evidence that may help solve this case. It was in doing so that I first met the man who called himself "The Doctor".
As I was returning home, I felt the strangest of sensations. It was as though something was speaking to me without using words, but pulling on the strings of my mind. Coaxing me to enter the alleyway I was passing at the time. I am not a weak-minded man, but it was this persuasion that convinced me to do as I wanted; not because I had given-into its temptation, but because I intended to find what it was that was trying to do so. It was to my great surprise that I found what appeared to be a snowman. It was like any other snowman one may find at any other Christmas, but this particular instance of such a thing had sharply-formed teeth, as though twisted or created by a psychopath. As I grew nearer, the snowman itself began to grow higher, as though my proximity to it were a food source. At the time, this seemed to explain the the feeling deep within my head. Like my brain were being strained or wrung-out. It is as this moment that "The Doctor" appeared.
"That's new..." he said, as I turned around to see him for the very first time. He was dressed quite ordinarily, like a regular, wealthy gentleman, but with deep strokes of purple, like the king of a faraway land, and a slanted hat that had an eccentricity all on its own. "You should get back..." He always abandoned the ends of his sentences, as-if leaving us intrigued as to his identity. For some reason, he invested a sense of trust, and I found that I gladly did so and slowly backed-away from the creature, whatever it was.
At this point, the man took from his pocket an implement or tool, made of metal and gold, with a green light at the end. Truly, he was of wealth, yet I had never heard of him in the Strand or anywhere. As though he were a ghost. "Fascinating!" he proclaimed, the danger arousing his adventurous nature. But this face soon turned to one of dread, and he grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me toward him. "The snow is feeding of your thoughts!" Though I understood nothing of what had begun to envelope my person, I found that the adventure that had found me was begging me to be a part of it, like the old days. It sounds silly, but this man reminded me of Sherlock Holmes.
He began to approach the Snowman very carefully. "What is that?" he questioned to himself. What did I not yet know was whether his intentions were of genuine detection or of chauvinism. He seemed to have forgotten me instantly, as he was now trying to figure-out the situation on his own. It is what happened next that was quite uncanny. As I have mentioned, the Doctor's personality was very Holmesian, and thus memories of our past adventures began to fill my mind, and I remembered everything. Every bow, every chase and every deduction, the entire canon of our relationship coming to the front of my mind. By this time, the Doctor was shaking his device, with a definite feeling of frustration. Then I came to end of my journey, as I remembered the terrible day Holmes fell. His battle with Moriarty at the Reichenbach Falls. That terrible day, when I read his letter. But, most importantly, of that day, the single worst part of it was the deadly symbolism posed by the falls. So much water flooding down from the mountain side, and into the abyss below. It filled me with dread, and it was this feeling that struck a killing blow to the Snowman, as it exploded into fragments, the water like fire from a gas pipe. This must have been to the Doctor's surprise, as he turned to me with a face of mixed feeling. I personally think he was both impressed and surprised. "You...pictured them melting?" he asked me. "How did you think of that? Nobody could have thought of that. I was about to tell you to do it, but you did it before I had the chance?" he left a short pause. "...who are you?" He was finally ending his sentences.
I stuck out my arm to shake his hand. "Watson. Doctor John Watson."
His face took an even more emotionally-mixed turn. "Doctor Watson? Thank you! Thank you, Doctor Watson!" And with that, he simply walked-away, through the pool left by the Snowman, into the darkness.
But I was not prepared to let our encounter mean nothing. And thusly, I followed him.
It was in following 'the Doctor' that my adventure truly began. As he vacated the vicinity by cab, I instinctively followed him. For a start, he seemed to have the explanation of the events that had just occurred, and I therefore was not prepared to simply let this not be given. Secondly, and foremostly, his reaction to the discovery of my identity was something of surprise. In his eyes, I was of some significance, and therefore it was only my right to know what this was. Clearly, these were the reasons that he had attempted to leave so quickly, as if to somehow not become involved with my person, as these were the worries I overheard when eavesdropping, as I listened in from the roof of his carriage, his driver cloaked.
He was speaking down the telephone to someone unbeknown to me about the events that just taken place.
"Yes...the snow's alive. It's psychic, it feeds off the thoughts of anyone around it...well, maybe. Yes...don't worry, I didn't do anything...he's not going to follow me, I didn't even give him the words "the Doctor"...trust me...no I'm through with that, now...it's not as if..." but I'd heard enough. Clearly, this "Doctor", whoever he was, had become used to losing people, hence his avoidance of myself.
Now, I myself had often been involved in thrilling chases through London, as you may know from my accounts of previous adventures and cases. Such it was that Mr. Holmes often used to surprise his enemies by revealing himself to them during these situations, in-order to discover what their face looked-like when they weren't attempting to conceal the truth. I had previously engaged myself with his methods, and had many times tried to practice them. Honestly, I can say I didn't expect to get a better shot than this at firing my intelligently-chosen timings at him from the barrel of my mind.
And so, opening the roof of the cab in a flash, I lowered myself down, before lightly jumping to the floor. Into his shocked face I posed the question "The Doctor...Doctor Who?"