Kyle was just another young man trying to figure out who he was in this world. He lived a simple life; he was twenty-four years old. He wanted girls and booze, that was his main thing in life...
Until that one regretful night, Kyle was sitting on the sofa trying to enjoy whatever television was keeping his attention while he downed bottle after bottle of alcohol. Kyle reached down to the carpet to pick up another alcohol bottle, he watched as a fictional character walked through his lounge room.
"Kyle" the character spoke.
"Dude, that's awesome." Kyle slurred.
Moments after, Kyle had passed out.
When morning rose, Kyle moaned in annoyance. He looked down at the floor seeing ten empty beer bottles lined up "What happened?" he whispered to himself. It was normal for Kyle to drink alone; it was easy for him to lose count on how much he drank but he couldn't remember what happened last night.
He heard someone rustling around in his kitchen; he reached down and grabbed one of the bottles from the floor before creeping towards the kitchen "I'M A POLICE OFFICER!" He yelled towards the kitchen hoping that whoever was in there would leave without any trouble.
"No, your not."
Kyle heard a thick English accent as he tried to focus on the person standing in the middle of his kitchen.
"You're a drunk."
Kyle kept his grip on the bottle's neck "Who are you?" speaking to the back of the person in his kitchen.
The man was wearing a deerstalker hat and an inverness cape, he turned to face Kyle "My good sir, I am Sherlock Holmes."
"Sherlock Holmes doesn't exist." Kyle spits, his head pounding from the hangover he was experiencing.
"Quite right, Sir." Sherlock spoke "Quite right, indeed." He reached his gloved hand out to Kyle "It seems your imagination has started to run wild causing you to have hallucinations of a man who doesn't exist."
Kyle looked down at the leather gloved hand, he placed the beer bottle down on the kitchen bench.
Sherlock gently swung his hand back down to his side.
"Why would my imagination be running wild?" Kyle questioned as he looked Sherlock up and down.
"That is a question that seems I cannot answer" Sherlock watched Kyle "I may be the great Sherlock Holmes, sadly this is one thing I have yet to figure out."
Kyle pinched his left arm thinking maybe he was asleep, maybe this was a dream. Nothing. Kyle squeezed his eyes shut for thirty seconds before reopening them. Again, nothing.