Down the Rabbit Hole

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Author's Note: I do not own Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, the story belongs to Lewis Carroll and the song White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane belongs to them as well.

Sherlock stared at Moriarty and he just laughed and left the washroom. Sherlock knew that he didn't have the time to go after him, so he decided to just leave and to take the tube to Hampton Court in order to solve this part of the game. he knew that because Moriarty had been there with him, that it was Jamie who had left the message. Of course, Sherlock was going to keep this information away from Tessa, Dynah, and John. Of course they knew that she was involved in the clues, but they wouldn't think that Moriarty would make her leave them. It was better that they didn't know, seeing as it would cloud their goals for this game and make them more focused on rescuing Jamie, which in turn would get them all killed. Once Sherlock arrived at Hampton Court, it was easy enough to find where the message was because Lestrade, John, Tessa and Dynah were already there. He always seemed to be the last person to arrive anywhere. He walked over to them and he saw what he was looking for. There had been a message left painted on the inside of the arch that led into Hampton Court. the paint type was acrylic and the message had been written in multiple different colours, with a picture of a white rabbit and a caterpillar at the bottom of it. The message read:

"And when you go...chasing rabbits. And you know you're going to fall. Tell 'em a hookah...smoking caterpillar has given you the call. Call Alice. When she was just small. When the man on the chessboard, get up and tell you where to go, and you've just had some kind of mushroom and your mind is moving low. Go ask Alice. I think she'll know. When logic...and proportion have fallen sloppy dead. And the white knight is talking backwards and the red queens off with her head, remember what the door mouse said. Feed your head. Feed you head.- J.M xx"

"It's lyrics to a song." Dynah said.

"A song? What song?" Lestrade asked.

"White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane."Tessa said.

"It sounds like Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll." John said.

"It's meant to. The song is about taking hallucinogenic drugs. A popular theory was that Lewis Carroll was high when he wrote the story of Alice. I'm surprised that none of you know the song. It was released in 1967, which is way before we were born, but we know it." Dynah said.

"Some of us chose not to focus on certain types of music when they were growing up." Sherlock said.

"Yes, Sherlock. We're aware that you were more focused on classical music." Tessa said.

"What do you think this message is supposed to lead you too? It's not necessarily clear as to where you're supposed to go." Lestrade said.

"Lewis Carroll, otherwise known as Charles Dodgson, was born in Daresbury, Chesire, England. It's exactly where we have to go." Sherlock said.

"And how did you get that, from this? It's not even really that related." Lestrade said.

"It's purposely not directly related. The point is to look into the story of the song, not just the song in itself or the band who wrote it. This song speaks of specific things directly related to Alice's Adventures in Wonderland thus making it the thing we need to look for. Where better to look that to where the man who created it all was born and grew up?" Tessa said.

"If you're wrong about this-" Lestrade started.

"Have we been wrong yet? No, we haven't and we won't be this time." Dynah said.

They got Lestrade to drive them Daresbury, seeing as once more it was a rather long drive to get there and Sherlock and John really could not afford to keep paying cab fare for such long rides. They were in the car fro 3 hours and 28 minutes before they finally arrived in Daresbury. It was a rather small town and Sherlock wondered why Moriarty had sent them here. They looked around, not noticing anything strange, or anything peculiar. As they were walking around, they all kept hearing this sound, almost like the ticking of a pocket watch. They all looked around but they couldn't seem to find the source of the noise. It wasn't until a white rabbit, hopped out of the bushes and ran away that they realized exactly what was going on. They chased after the rabbit and soon they found themselves in front of a well. There was nothing covering it and there was a ladder leading down into the ground. They all slowly began to proceed down the well and eventually found themselves in a well lit series of tunnels. However, which direction they were supposed to go in was unclear, seeing as the directions were written in a way that nobody could understand. There was a sign in the middle that had arrows pointing to certain directions, but they were not written in any language that Sherlock could understand. However they heard the ticking sound once more and followed it down the left hand path. The ticking noise got louder the further along the path they moved. As they continued walking through the watery path, they didn't talk to each other, not wanting to make anymore sound than necessary so they could hear the ticking. They finally reached a large, open room. There is still water surrounding them, but there is a small island of land in the middle of all of it. Stalactites and stalagmites surround the cave and it looks as though they were made on purpose. As if this whole room had been made by man, and not by nature. On the island, there was a table and a chair in the middle of it, as well as a steaming cup of tea. Sherlock approached the table first, and everyone else followed behind him and when he looked down on the table he saw that there was a microphone and a pocket watch. The microphone's cord led off down another tunnel, and Lestrade followed it, to see where it went. Another thing that lay on the table was a note. It had been made to look old, using tea bags and burning the edges of the paper. Something that a child would do for a project in school. Sherlock picked up the piece of paper from off the table, and he couldn't help the small smile that formed on his face as he read the words written on it.

Sherlock: Carpe DiemDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora