Villains have been shown to us by others as people hell bent on destruction and chaos, But they are only shown this way to glorify the heroes that defeat them. In a twist of fate what would happen if the villain was the protagonist of a saga? It would surely make us think twice before our baised judgments because judging one side of a story by ignoring the other is but a fault in our thinking. A villain can be just as divine and heroic as the hero? The thought seems obscure and insane but even the word insanity contains sanity. To see this first-hand let us venture into the area outside our normal boundaries, we may discover that even the most sinister minds may have a motive more solemn than the person that thwarts them.

"221-B baker street. A set of characters used in order to discern the residence of a certain eminent individual. An individual that strives for justice. An individual who as they say "Gets the job done." An individual who i have or rather an individual that has had the honor of facing me a numbered times. An individual by the name of Sherlock Holmes."

A man in his thirties with fair complexion, a relatively small moustache with rounded edges and a slight show of aftershave was reclining on a fairly large, red yet with a hint of rust which depicted that it was neither antique nor was it recently purchased, sofa. He had the "Daily Times" held in-front of him and with his watch glass he read the headline reciting as he read, "Sherlock Holmes manages to solve yet another case but unable to save the witnesses." With a smirk the man raised his brow and spoke with somberness in his voice,
"Giving you total victory would bring nothing but a sense of pride in even you my dear adversary, That would be unacceptable for our next little hoopla will not be as much of a plain sailing that this was, for every choice you make will be out of your lines of comfort and will test even the great Sherlock Holmes' oh so divine path and will."
With a gesture he raised his wine glass and help it up for a short moment during which a man dressed in a typical butler's outfit came and refilled his glass before leaving in a catlike manner.

Holding the glass to his lips the man eulogized the intoxicating aroma and took a brisk sip in which he recollected the steps which he had taken with a brief flash of what to come. He took a deep breath and took another slightly longer imbible and peered to his right, the reflection of light that pierced his eyes adumbrating his own reflection. He stared into his impression ruminating nothing but just riveting into his own eyes and scrutinizing a soul of his own belonging yet which had scarcely any resemblance to who is is or possibly -... who he aims to be? The man picked up what appeared to be a remote control and revived the television from a temporary sleep. He took off his watch glass and replaced it on his side table, on the right side of which was his wine and glass. He stared into the glass that mimed images of the daily news. A well dressed anchorman took a second to fix his neck-tie, stared into camera all the while plastering a mechanical smile which greets the thousands watching at home and started to mention the vital news.

"James Moriarty, claimed dead in a brutal fist fight with Holmes who, just a few days ago, was also considered to have died as reported by Doctor Watson but was discovered to have been alive soon after. If the eminent detective can cheat death once then what is to say that we have seen the last of his archenemy? Questions still remain, Will we ever get our answer?" With a quick smile he raised his arm and said in a sigh, "If he does, then i hope God is with us."

"Such mumbling morons." the man remarked, "Have they such great a doubt in the side where they stand that they doubt the just path of the Almighty? Knaves they truly are and although i may have deviated from them, I would rather spend the days to come in hell rather than a second with these idiots. Alas! The desecration is soon to come and finally the light will be shed on who truly is correct and who is corrupted."

"My lord!" a quivering voice diffused into his personal atmosphere.
"What might be your problem?" he inquired.
"My lord it seems like the test subject has survived the trials." he spoke a bit more confident than before.
"I see, I wish to see the brother." he asked as he rose from his comfort taking his cane and top hat, which was fairly dark overall with a modest gold outline.
"Ofcourse. Follow me." The person is revealed to be wearing an outfit similar to that of a scientist and by the reverence with which he treated our man of topic revealed him to be either his slave or someone who was a product of clever manipulation.

He lead him into a candle lit room with different inscriptions and patterns which seemed satanic, but were not instead looked like something out of imagination. Words populated the walls which may have been essential for what he was experimenting or just something that was made in boredom, the former being more convincing than the latter.
A man strapped tight at a stretcher which was bolted into place by the means of both nails and screws, his fingers moved turbulently as if he himself had no control over them whatsoever. He seemed to be a well built man that may have had a physical job owing to his above-average muscle mass or simply that he was a product of performance enhancing drugs which gives a more sinister motive to our lab rat. Something about him ,however, did not seem normal ,or in any case, human at all. His veins were bulged out abnormally and seemed to be pumping a green colored liquid alongside his blood throughout his body. The man lay panting heavily with his eyes looking around in agony.
"Release me!" He bawled at our individual.
"Release you? Brother! I mean to but cure you." he replied in all courteousness.
"Cure me from what?" He asked panting.
"Cure you from blindness, your mind has been corrupted by your rulers. They rule in monarchy yet tell that it is a democracy. Tell me this, have you ever voted?"
"I... I have." He answered half astonished.
"And have the person whom you voted for ever come into power?"
"A few times, yes."
"And has he ever fulfilled his promises?"
"I don't know."
"Has he alleviated poverty?"
"Has he raised the taxes lying that he will?"
"Has he ended crime?"
"Has he increased his bodyguards?"
"Yes... What are you implying?" the man asked a bit calm as the scientist slowly released his restraints.
"I am simply stating the obvious fact, which many of you overlook, That your leaders will never eradicate poverty because they thrive by slave labour, They will never end crime because they earn on it. They will never create factories because they are too busy building for their own luxuries. He promises you change yet all he changes are his bodyguards, whose sole reason is to keep people like you in your place."
"But what does this have to do with me?" the man asked this time free from his restrains and sitting upright as his fingers slowly came back under his control.
"You see my brother, I have been monitoring you and your family."
The man suddenly rises to his feet and grabbed our individual by his neck.
"How dare you!"
"Listen to me first then do as you please." he spoke in a surprisingly calm tone.
"Alright." He takes a deep breath as he sets the man down and takes a second to admire how effortlessly he lifted up the man.
"Your house was on government loan was it not?"
"And your last installment was due today?"
"Yes? But what do-"
"Please let me finish." He cut in.
"Apologies, please do."
"Did you by any chance notice the unusually high amount of policemen roaming about your premises?"
"Your loan was to be put at over a thousand pounds which was a sum they knew you couldn't pay. The policemen were there to strip you off the roof on your head and take over everything else."
"But, the loan was set at fifty pounds."
"It was, but when the government wants something, it most assuredly gets it. I have the legal papers on my desk, would you like me to show them to you?"
"You lie! They cannot do that!" he bawled at him.
"Calm yourself, they can and they did. I had paid them the money."
"And how do i trust you?"
"I shall bring up the transactions." he spoke as he raised a small piece of paper from his pocket and gave it to the man who stared at it blankly for a moment before breaking down groaning.
"How could they do this?"
"How? Because they can do it!"
"If this is true, why help me?" he inquired almost sobbing.
"Because I help all in need."
"Is there a way i can pay you back?"
"There may be, But i shall not force you."
"It shall be my pleasure, But what favour might I ask is this drug injected in my body?"
"It is but another blessing! For with it you shall become physically stronger."
"And what is to become of my blood and veins?"
"The drug shall die away soon and your body impressions would be the same as they were before."
"Another favour! You must tell me how I can be of service." he begged.
"Do you detest your rulers?"
"I loathe them!"
"Then I shall bestow upon you another chore, which would be informed to you soon. For now, enjoy your time with your family."
"I shall! And thank you once again. Might i inquire your name?"
"I am sorry but my name must not be known to anyone, you must never speak of this or me anywhere or my noble cause."
"I swear upon my honor then! You shall be as unknown as the ghosts in the wind."
"Guide him out to the main street, see to it that he returns safely." The individual speaks to his servant.
"My lord." The scientist speaks up.
"Relieve yourself."
"I have no memory of any legitimate or even forged house statements or bank statements. What if the man had asked for any?"
"My poor lad." The person laughed, "It is an enraged person that you can manipulate with ease. He only saw what he wanted to see, the statement i showed him was but a small withdrawal i had made prior to our little conversation. Had he paid any heed to it, he would have seen the truth. Manipulation of the minds of common man is but child's play."
The scientist looks in amazement and remarked him in an affectionate but fearful tone,
"Truly you are the smartest mind that exists."
"Self-admiration is but an excuse for the weak to be selfish, spare me from future comments like this."
"My apologies."
"I shall need to take my evening walk outside. Rid yourself of this disguise and make yourself scarce."
"As you wish.." the person exits the room followed by our individual.
He walked into a magnificently yellow lit room in which there are antique vases of all civilizations from Greek to the Indus Valley, the fans and furniture have a bit of royal resemblance to them. The size of the room itself is titanic and the overall grace and elegance had made it look like the residence of an elite member of society. The man walked through the room un-amused by the extravagance of it and finally stepped outside on marble steps which convert to dirt after the tenth step. The garden was endless and spread throughout the land, but it was not of his belonging, rather company surrounding him which was nature. There were no houses in sight, it would seem for a man who was well conscious of the events around him had a great sense of privacy. He walked on the dirt taking a short breath before gazing at the mammoth night time lantern that hung over him reflecting light,
"I hope, My dear adversary, You are primed for the hell to come."

The sun shone on the structure revealing the architecture of a certain eminent individual, "221-B Baker street, residence of Sherlock Holmes" read the words carved in wood. It seemed like the sign was hung in celebration of the return of the famous sleuth. Venturing in a burning furnace radiating heat and light from the flame it hosted combined with the sunlight that pierced through the glass gave a divine luster to the room, which housed a man not exactly the tallest but in to respect average height who reclined on his rocking chair with a cigar between the crack of his lips. His face was bore a strange resemblance to that of a pear and his complexion fair. His eyes dilated giving proof of his intoxication within the tobacco habit which he was only one of the millions within the sphere of intoxication's grasp. Stimulation was important for this man as it made his brain function and process evidence faster, his tobacco was kept in a coal-scuttle in the toe end of a Persian slipper. The door suddenly flew open and a man strutted in unsuspecting of the present atmosphere of the room.
"I would advise you not to breathe but by the sound of your footsteps it seems that your lungs have automatically forced a breath. So I shall start with my apologies, What brings you here Doctor Watson?"
A well dressed man wearing a brown coat with a red tie which he wore over a white shirt and with brown trousers is revealed by the sunlight, he is wearing a bowler hat and in his left hand lay a wooden cane. His skin tone is slightly darker than Holmes' and his moustache looked more cared after than the mans health itself.
The man coughed for a brief moment before opening the windows to allow fresh air to clean the atmosphere of the room and finally spoke,
"I see that your poison indulgence still knows no fault Holmes."
"Poison, My dear friend would a be implication harsh to both you and me. Because poison kills even if taken occasionally or regularly."
"I bear no ill will to your habits Holmes b-"
"Nor do I to your untimely intrusions." he cut in.
"But it has come to my attention." he carried on ignoring him, "That you have fired James, the third butler I had set for you blaming him for robbery?"
"Without a doubt, He had robbed me of something very precious."
"And that might be?" Watson asked unamused.
"My solitude."
"By Lord Holmes! Your metaphorical belongings are only as unsafe as your own thoughts."
"No, my solitude is just as material as the watch you are holding in your hand right now. But i trust that the purpose of your visit was more than just a scrutiny of my choices?"
"Indeed, It appears that a local coal miner by the name of Mark Oswald has gone missing."
"Had gone missing." Holmes corrected as he puffed out smoke and rubbed his cigar against the ashtray before ditching it completely.
"Had?" Watson scrutinized.
"Yes had, At 3:22 a.m today Mr. Mark had entered the front door of his residence and by the gossip of his peers it was discovered that he had gone venturing for a better job but had forgotten to inform his wife Amelia Oswald."
"And what sources I might inquire gave you this information?"
"Sources? You doubt my eyes Watson? At precisely 5:00 a.m today near the train station you had bumped into a frail cloaked man while walking from a local shop with your mistress who I believe had gone on a visit to America?"
"New York city, Yes but-"
"Please refrain from comments till I finish. The man and you maintained contact for a split second before you apologized, what you failed to notice was that the man slipped a piece of paper into your coat pocket which now i ask you to search for at the same spot, lower right? If i may?"
Watson reaches for his pocket and half surprised takes out a piece of paper and looks at Holmes.
"And what might have been written here?" he asked.
"I believe you were taught to read my friend." Holmes laughed.
Watson open up the piece of paper all the while giving a surprised look to him before finally reading aloud,
"Where might Oswald be?" Watson laughed, "It appears that your revival has gifted you with omnipresence my friend."
"Perhaps... Or perhaps just a good sense of the logical place to be at the set time." Holmes spoke sternly.
"Either way, I hope you shall give a report to the local authorities?"
"Where I would hate to leave them unravished there are urgent matters I need to attend to." Holmes spoke with a sigh.
"The urgent matters being sitting idly and smoking?"
"It appears that a certain ghost is roaming around my friend, A ghost who might as well still be the gracious individual that let me write, what was at that time, my final letter to you."
"Moriarty is dead, You said so yourself." Watson spoke confused.
"He may as well be, I am very much assured that he is."
"Yet you doubt your belief?"
"He is as dead as you thought I was at a time, It may appear that cheating death was not as hard as Houdini had portrayed it to be."
"Do you have any convincing proof of this?"
"What might I inquire is the evidence of his death by the way?"
"The body left under the water-body might suffice."
"A visual re-assurance might end your doubts?"
"The would indeed, If only there was."
"I lose track of you once again."
"You failed to noticed the steaming engine of my automobile which is resting outside after a suggestive long drive or the fresh smell of pines from the top hat resting on the stand at your right."
"The overpowering scent of nicotine pollutes the room and I admit overlooking the heat radiating of your car, But tell me, Did you really visit Reichenbach Falls?"
"I have no reason to lie."
"What did you discover there?"
"What I had hoped for."
"It seems unlikely for you to find a body under all that water pressure, It might as well had been swept down by the current hours after you emerged from the gorge itself."
"Your assumption of my target of search being the body is childish."
"Then for what evidence were you hoping for?"
"Then what was the purpose of your trip?"
"Nothing!?" Watson grew frustrated, "Are you telling me that you travelled all the way to Reichenbach Falls for no apparent reason?"
"Holmes, I hope there is medicine for your drug addiction because it is growing as a serious mental illness."
"I hope so too." he joked, "Now that the purpose of your visit has been fulfilled, would you join me for a cup of tea?"
"Holmes." Watson sighed, "Well i don't see a reason to decline."
With that said Holmes rose from his seat and walked into a room located a few steps towards his right which was the kitchen, Moments later he returned bearing a tray with two tea cups with a simple gold lining and black overall, A tea-pot matching the scheme of the cups and a plate of biscuits. He gestured Watson to sit on a chair near the coffee table which itself was very plain showing Holmes' hate of extravagance and love of simplicity. Watson looked about the room for the first time since his visit and spoke half amused,
"I see your place is cleaner than usual, which is a miracle."
"Preparation of the yet to come cases."
"You seem pretty focused and ready."
"Never-mind that, I should ask about the mistress."
"Ask what exactly?" Watson spoke a bit uneasy.
"If it makes you uneasy then i'll leave it."
"Please go on."
"She is travelling alone?"
"Well it is good that you trust her but still sending a woman out on a long trip alone either shows that you trust her immensely or that you are a great fool or maybe a but of both?"
"The former is the correct assumption Holmes."
"A good decision nonetheless, As a storm is brewing."
"Yes i heard, It seems strong. I wonder what they would name it."
"Probably after another woman." Holmes laughed.
Watson looked at him smiling for a moment before joining him.
"I hope we are prepared." Watson showed some worry.
"Yes, For this storm and the other." Spoke Holmes who all of a sudden had a serious tone to his voice.