A detective. Tall. Long coat. Keeps a human skull lying around his living room. Really, these descriptors shouldn't apply to more than one person. Apparently this is not the case. -*- A short ficlet prologue that will be continued. At some point. Honest. Rated T because I have exactly no idea how long or violent this story may become.

Last time, all the alien nonsense was safely in New York. It just figures that now the mess is in London, Sherlock would want to bloody observe it firsthand. (A 221B ficlet).