Only a Dreamworld

who, what, when, where, why

As I slowly regain consciousness the rules of writing start to fill my thoughts and help my conclude where I am. Thankfully based off of my knowledge of Sherlock Holmes I quickly and easily desipher where I am.

I lay tied down with thick leather straps on a metal examining table. The walls surrounding me are yellow brick. In the far corner there is a polished mahogany table with four chairs. Towards the door I could barely make out a shape until blackness overtook me again.

I awoke to a recognized face coming towards me. It was Jabob Anderson!

~*~*~*~

Ok I know this is completely unrealistic and kind of stupid so I am kind of going to try to get it back on track