Read Online Sherlock Holmes: The Shadow From Beyond by Erik Branz - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Erik Branz
Tags: detective, adventure, Horror, Mystery, Islam, supernatural, London, Lovecraft, Europe, Murder, Occult, cthulhu, sherlock holmes, Crusades, doctor watson, historic, tentacles, weird fiction, cthulhu mythos, hplovecraft, holmes and watson, necronomicon, baker street
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music and laughter escaped the slightly open front door from inside and trails of thick tobacco smoke curled outward. A popular establishment with locals and visiting sailors alike for the cheap ale and rotund barmaids offered within, Holmes is sure the patrons of the Sea Wolf will be able to offer up the information they are looking for.
The pair were about to enter the front door when suddenly distracted by some raucous noise nearby, the crashing of overturned crates and raised voices drew their attention over.
Down a misty alley they noticed a couple of larger toughs beating up on much smaller man, the victim was clearly being overpowered by his attackers. The smaller man was on the ground covering his head in a vain attempt to shield the multiple blows being rained down upon him. The larger toughs were assailing him with verbal taunts as well as kicks and punches.
“Go ‘ome to ya country ya darkie! We no wants ya
‘ere, you is not welcomed !! Take yo’ rag head back to da desert!” they barked.
Holmes and Watson cried out and moved forward into the alley while waving their walking canes in the air. The low light and swirling mist lent a menacing silhouette to their obscured approaching forms. The startled toughs stopped what they were doing and fled in the opposite direction, leaving behind a curled up body groaning on the ground.
“Watson! Your services are needed!” Holmes stated as he rushed over to aid the stricken man.
The victim was moaning lightly and although pretty bashed up, is conscious and able to speak.
“Salaam effendi.” he said. “Thank you sirs for your assistance, you are much too kind to help a stranger. Without your intervention I would surely have been in a bad state.” the man acknowledged as Watson carefully helped him to his feet. “I was on my way back to ship, as we depart across the Channel in an hour or so, and my tasks needed tending before we set off.”
The man, now standing on his own, was a smallish framed, brown skinned fellow of middle age and foreign caste, his dark hair, well-trimmed beard and hooked nose noted most probably of an Arabic background. Of course one could not mistake the accent which colored his speech as one originating from the Middle Eastern part of the world. His turban covered head was the only cultural garb he wore; otherwise he was dressed in the typical uniform of a boatman. He introduced himself as Hassan.
“I was actually coming to the Sea Wolf pub to collect my fellow shipmates for our journey, we depart soon and our captain wishes all hands on deck” he continued. “I was not a few lanes away when I heard some voices behind me approaching in the shadows. Two drunken louts accosted me with their foul insults, they were not pleased that I was a Muslim from foreign lands and wanted to let me know of it. Unfortunately I encounter this behavior much too frequently and have since learned the best thing to do is avoid any confrontation by simply ignoring it. I attempted to walk on, but they followed close behind, taunting me. After they realized that racial slurs were getting them nowhere they decided to lay a heavy beating on me. Things were going rather badly until you both showed up to save me from a certain fate, thank you so much, I am in forever in your debt.” he added with a low bow.
“Think nothing of it good sir,” replied Watson. “It is we who thank you for your tolerance and apologize for the few of our racial group that hold such biased and twisted hatred towards others, it surly taints the majority of those who uphold society and its beliefs. In my opinion there is no place for bigotry, sexism or religious discrimination on this planet. We are all God’s children are we not, no matter by what name we call him? All brothers and sisters in this family we call humanity.”
“Well said Watson. A more profound sentiment could not have been spoken,” Holmes noted.
Hassan agreed with a nod. He stood taller afterwards,
The pair were about to enter the front door when suddenly distracted by some raucous noise nearby, the crashing of overturned crates and raised voices drew their attention over.
Down a misty alley they noticed a couple of larger toughs beating up on much smaller man, the victim was clearly being overpowered by his attackers. The smaller man was on the ground covering his head in a vain attempt to shield the multiple blows being rained down upon him. The larger toughs were assailing him with verbal taunts as well as kicks and punches.
“Go ‘ome to ya country ya darkie! We no wants ya
‘ere, you is not welcomed !! Take yo’ rag head back to da desert!” they barked.
Holmes and Watson cried out and moved forward into the alley while waving their walking canes in the air. The low light and swirling mist lent a menacing silhouette to their obscured approaching forms. The startled toughs stopped what they were doing and fled in the opposite direction, leaving behind a curled up body groaning on the ground.
“Watson! Your services are needed!” Holmes stated as he rushed over to aid the stricken man.
The victim was moaning lightly and although pretty bashed up, is conscious and able to speak.
“Salaam effendi.” he said. “Thank you sirs for your assistance, you are much too kind to help a stranger. Without your intervention I would surely have been in a bad state.” the man acknowledged as Watson carefully helped him to his feet. “I was on my way back to ship, as we depart across the Channel in an hour or so, and my tasks needed tending before we set off.”
The man, now standing on his own, was a smallish framed, brown skinned fellow of middle age and foreign caste, his dark hair, well-trimmed beard and hooked nose noted most probably of an Arabic background. Of course one could not mistake the accent which colored his speech as one originating from the Middle Eastern part of the world. His turban covered head was the only cultural garb he wore; otherwise he was dressed in the typical uniform of a boatman. He introduced himself as Hassan.
“I was actually coming to the Sea Wolf pub to collect my fellow shipmates for our journey, we depart soon and our captain wishes all hands on deck” he continued. “I was not a few lanes away when I heard some voices behind me approaching in the shadows. Two drunken louts accosted me with their foul insults, they were not pleased that I was a Muslim from foreign lands and wanted to let me know of it. Unfortunately I encounter this behavior much too frequently and have since learned the best thing to do is avoid any confrontation by simply ignoring it. I attempted to walk on, but they followed close behind, taunting me. After they realized that racial slurs were getting them nowhere they decided to lay a heavy beating on me. Things were going rather badly until you both showed up to save me from a certain fate, thank you so much, I am in forever in your debt.” he added with a low bow.
“Think nothing of it good sir,” replied Watson. “It is we who thank you for your tolerance and apologize for the few of our racial group that hold such biased and twisted hatred towards others, it surly taints the majority of those who uphold society and its beliefs. In my opinion there is no place for bigotry, sexism or religious discrimination on this planet. We are all God’s children are we not, no matter by what name we call him? All brothers and sisters in this family we call humanity.”
“Well said Watson. A more profound sentiment could not have been spoken,” Holmes noted.
Hassan agreed with a nod. He stood taller afterwards,
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