CHAPTER 3
John slowly opened the door to the main office to find himself standing in the grandest room of the entire Asylum. The walls were a bright vibrant color of green and the large windows were outlined in silk curtains. Books were stacked all over the place and pictures and chunks of newspapers plastered the wall on the far right. John walked over to the wall, his eyes catching onto the image of a young man with dark hair and eyes. Under his white lab coat was a Westwood suit, completed with a skull tie. John's eyes wavered down to the inscription underneath.
In memory of Richard Brook.
John felt his heart twist as he read the name. Why did it sound so familiar? Had he trained with him in medical school before? Had he been in Afghanistan? His eyes skimmed over the newspaper clippings, widening.
"Doctor Richard Brook was one of my greatest Doctors." John turned around as a voice from behind frightened him. A man with grey hair and square glasses was staring at him with a sad smile. On his white lab coat was a name tag, identifying him as John's boss Mr. Darcie.
"What happened to him?" John asked, still surprised by the man's entrance. The corners of the man's mouth curved up slightly as if he wanted to smile, but he held it back.
"His patient Sherlock Holmes accused him of being some criminal called Moriarty and shot him in the head," the man stated, shaking his head sadly. John looked back at the photo, confusion written over his paling face.
"Henry told me Sherlock's last doctor quit," John stated. The man shook his head again.
"We only tell that to new clients so not to scare them off. Finding good doctors is so hard these days." John bit at his lip as the news hit his ears. He didn't know why, but for some reason he just couldn't process the idea of Sherlock Holmes murdering this man. It just didn't feel right like the rest of this place. "Dr. Watson?" John snapped out of his mental babble and turned his attention back to his boss.
"Yes, Sir?" John's boss strolled back over to his desk and flipped through a few files labeled with Sherlock's name.
"I need you to be very careful while working with Mr. Holmes. He's a dangerous man and is strong with his beliefs. He will try everything possible to corrupt your mind into believing him," the man stated. John nodded, staring at the files.
"Yes, Sir, I'll be careful. Can you tell me how long Mr. Holmes has been here?" John asked. A smile tugged at the corners of the man's lips once again.
"Seven years." John glanced down at the papers as the man skimmed through them. His eyes falling on the days marked of Sherlock's care. "Well, I suppose you should head down to the lunch room. Sherlock should be down there waiting for you," Mr. Darcie stated, shutting the file before John could look any longer. John smiled at him warmly, getting up from his chair. He bid a good afternoon to his new boss and walked out of the office.
John glanced back at the office before turning the corner.
"Seven years or seven days?" John stated, the image of notes on Sherlock's files rolling through his mind. He was right. Something was madly wrong around here and Sherlock Holmes, detective or not was the only person here that may be able to help him find out what.