Opening paragraph to a fanfic I quickly gave up on- it wouldve been great but im not clever enough to write mysteries

Anyways

Sherlock was sorting through his file, discarding unneeded information, things that wouldn't be useful to him. There were many, and he spent a good amount of time deleting small observations. Suddenly he came across something strange. A virus. He pulled it out, examined it with disdain. It was a feeling. Sherlock Holmes wasn't used to them. They were for mortals with souls. Boring souls. Average souls. So convinced that humans can give each other happiness, as if happiness was a thing that was plucked from a tree and casually tossed to a friend.