Chapter II: The Henchman
Eventually, our carriage came to a halt in a back-area of London, where nobody else could see. The Doctor had been explaining to me how these monstrous Snowmen worked.
"They were feeding off your thoughts. Using your feelings to create a corporeal form for themselves. Very interesting."
The Doctor clambered out of his seat and, through the carriage door, exited to the outside world. I would have followed him, but he slammed the door in my face, trapping me inside. It was a short while before he returned, and when he did, he was flanked by a goon. He was a bulky man, suffering from dwarfism. His accent was one of pidgin English, as he openly expressed his resentment to all other forms of life. I didn't like the look of him. Not at all I didn't. He had a face like the wrath of God. Or should I say the Devil? His eyes hid within an evil that wanted to unleash itself, which matched his physical appearance. He was tanned, and deeply worked-out, like someone who engages in physical practice toward a punching bag when not doing so to a person. I expected he was from somewhere in the colonies, or the subcontinent. He didn't speak unless he had an absolute reason to do so.
"I'm afraid you're going to forget everything", said the Doctor again. Though he seemed empathetic, I couldn't help but think that his motivations were as sinister as everything else I had encountered that night. "I'm sorry. But if you remember any of this, then..." The end of his sentence trailed-off again, as though he couldn't quite bring himself to say what he wanted to say.
I protested. "But..."
"Quiet, boy!" the henchman blurted.
"Whoa, there! Calm down, Strax." 'the Doctor' intervened, confirming the name of his associate.
Strax, who would be much-better suited to a suit of cloth than a suit of armour seemed to be 'the Doctor''s personal slave. And this reminded me. I had one last card to play with this man's mind. Something he couldn't resist. I may not be the Great Sherlock Holmes, God rest his soul, but even I was able tell how one would be able to play with this man's mind. There were things he did not want to say. He didn't enjoy becoming attached to others, and he certainly didn't want to reveal to me the significance of my being.
"I intrigue you." This struck a chord with him, and he tilted his head, taking-off his round pair of spectacles.
"You're very clever, John. You faced those creatures as if you knew how..."
My plan had worked, and I jumped on it like a fox to a rabbit.
"Well, I learnt from the best."
As I expected, 'the Doctor' was finally convinced of my mysteriousness. Sometimes, I think he's just easily amused.
"And just who might that be?" asked 'the Doctor' back at me.
Time for the killing blow.
"An old friend. He's gone now."
The Doctor removed his spectacles. "Goodnight, John." And he strode-off into the night, as he shouted a command to the dwarf. "Mr. Watson will be going home, now."
"Yessir" called a voice from above. It was Strax.
As the carriage was picking-up speed, I finally stepped-down onto the snowy ground, unbeknowest to Strax. The Doctor was silently walking-away, putting me out of his mind.
I followed once more.
