The Mind Palace

Chapter One

Sherlock cleared his throat, and proceeded to speak a few, quiet words to me. "John, we should go."

I was surprised. A man like Sherlock, leading an exciting life of crime-solving, turning down the biggest mystery yet? A let out a small, confused, breath of a laugh. "Sherlock, this is the most interesting thing we've seen in- well, forever! We have to look!"

Without allowing another thought from Sherlock, the Doctor stepped in between us, putting his arms around the two of us. He turned to my friend. "Now, don't you think this is worth a look? A whole new world... Possibly emtpy. possibly not. Wouldn't you like to see?"

Instead of waiting for a response, the Doctor stepped forward, and began walking into the empty plain. We had no choice but to follow, as it would be impossible to figure out the controls of the TARDIS, even for a team as intelligent as the two of us.

Naturally, we began walking towards the distant castle. There was nowhere else to go, as if that was the only thing for miles and miles- or, the only thing in this strange place at all.

It was a quiet walk. The Doctor kept trying to make conversation but Sherlock, as he does, would mainly just give a sassy response, leaving a very awkward silence. I was happy to be met with the strange, unfamiliar, white walls of the now-close castle, as it forced conversation onto us.

There was one very peculiar thing about this fortress, something that couldn't be noticed from such a distance. The doors- they were missing. And I don't mean torn-off-hinges, leaving an empty gap or anything. There simply were no doors, no windows- and no way in.

The Doctor approached the white wall, knocked on it twice. "Come on then! Let us in!"

Sherlock licked his lips, hands behind his back. "Frankly Doctor, I don't think shouting at this structure will make it any more keen to open."

The strange new man turned to look back at Sherlock briefly, allowing just enough time to roll his eyes before giving his attention back to the clean canvas of the castle. A whirring instrument was pulled from his pocket, and he traced the shape of a large rectangle, big enough to walk  through, onto the edifice. With a click, that part of the wall disappeared into the ground.

Sherlock's face went white, looking even more like marble than it usually did. His features were sharp, as though perfectly carved by an experienced sculptor. He moved gracefully, carefully stepping inside the castle before turning back to look at the Doctor and I from the doorway.

A small, sarcastic smile appeared on his face as his eyes met those of the Doctor's. "For being so excited to get in, you sure are taking your time."

The two of us made our way into the grand entryway as Sherlock did. It was a magnificent hall, sparkling crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, casting our shadows onto the elegantly papered walls. The thing that really caught and held my attention, though, was the strangely familiar yellow smiley face, spray painted onto the opposite wall.

Being the attentive man he always had been, Sherlock noticed the face very quickly, and a twinge of realization crossed his face. Suddenly, he seemed eager to leave, clearing his throat and beginning to walk down the long hall to our right. The Doctor and I had no choice but to follow, a few feet behind.

I turned to the Doctor, running a hand through my hair. "Doctor, that thing you used to open the door back there..."

He pulled it from his pocket, its green tip lighting up. "Sonic screwdriver."

"Certainly doesn't look like a real screwdriver."

"Oi! Don't diss the sonic!"

"Right. Sorry, so how did it do that, exactly?"

Sherlock turned around to look at us, stopping in his tracks. He stared down the Doctor, as he and I also stopped walking. "Obviously," he began, "it emits soundwaves. That whirring sound? Must have had something to do with it, of course."

The Doctor grinned slightly, looking a bit amused. "Sound waves?"

"Yes, of course. They're proven to move things, from toothpicks to frogs." Sherlock smirked. "Either that, or this is an elaborate trick, and it was rigged. That would be the most realistic option- I'm not sure you could handle any type of science." He turned his back on us and continued walking. Of course, we followed.

I turned to look at the Doctor. "So, what is it?"

He flicked the tip of the sonic screwdriver. "Time lord tech."

I nodded, as if that had made any sense at all. "Right. Of course."

We had caught up to Sherlock, as he was standing in the middle of a small room. This one was familiar as well, but unlike the entry, I was able to figure out why immediately, and was also first to verbalize it, though in a shocked whisper, I'll admit. "221B."

Yes, before us was an exact replica of our living room back at 221B Baker Street. Every detail was perfect, down to the skull sitting on our fireplace hearth.

The Doctor stepped futher into our room, wandering around a bit. Strangely enough, he was absolutely giddy. "Ah, yes! Home sweet home! Well, at least a complete, perfectly accurate replica." He picked up the skull, grimaced at the layer of dust covering it, and set it back down, brushing his hands on his pants. "Very accurate."

Sherlock slowly paced around the room, running his hands along the spines of books. He pulled one off the shelf- London A to Z. Flipping through the pages, he raised his eyebrows. "Interesting."

The Doctor turned away from the yellow smiley face painted on our wall, which he had been inspecting. "What is?"

Sherlock shut the book and opened another. "That there would ever be so much detail, that it would all be so accurate. These books are exactly as I've read them at home, down to the last spelling error on page 100." He closed the book he had been paging through and waved it in the air- Pearl Buck's The Good Earth.

Our strange new friend smiled. "But it is possible."

Sherlock gave a quick grin, and I could tell he was warming up to the man. "Not imposssible, just incredible."