What Does Sherlock Holmes Look Like Novels & Stories

"Are you Alexa? Saw you somewhere before. Do you know me?" The detective was a towering figure, with broad shoulders and a chiseled jawline. His piercing blue eyes seemed to see through the surface of things, as if he had the ability to discern a person's deepest secrets with a single glance. His dark hair was meticulously groomed, and his suit was perfectly tailored to fit his muscular frame. As he approached Alexa, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. This man was no ordinary detective. His very presence seemed to demand respect, and his steely gaze made it clear that he was not one to be trifled with.

Uri was on guard and warily looking at the shadow that was less than ten inches away from his. This person was wearing a black body. Based on his physique, Uri guessed it was a man. He leisurely reached out his hand to take off his hat from his big black cloak. Only then did Uri see his face clearly. Pale skin, rather long light blonde hair, deep red eyes, the nose was high and pointed, the lips were thin light purple, the jawbone was slightly chunky, revealing a chin in the middle that was both small and sharp.

High cheekbones and a light stubble. He looked like God himself crafted him. He put all men out there to shame with his god-like looks. He was wearing a black dress shirt and black trousers which made his muscular thighs stand out. Silver rings sat on his long, thick fingers and the silver chain around his neck glistened in the dimmed light. An expensive watch sat on his wrist comfortably. His face held no emotions though his eyes held a look I couldn't describe. He was looking at me like he found something he was searching for. Searching for what though?

And at the front of the pack was him. He looked like war itself… tall, broad-shouldered, with silver rings piercing one ear and a jagged scar running down his right cheek. His eyes were a stormy steel-blue, cold and unreadable, and his jet-black hair was a tousled, spiky mess that somehow made him look even more dangerous. His presence didn’t just demand attention, it commanded it. He didn’t look around. Didn’t smile. Didn’t care. And still, people moved aside like the gods themselves had told them to.

The man smiled without looking at her, flipping through a page instead. "Hello, sleepyhead." Shandra wanted to jump in fright, but the lethargy that was hitting her body stopped her. The locket was still warm against her skin, but not to the point of burning her. His face was broad, with a pronounced jaw, thick lips, and unsettling fire-colored eyes. His thin, slightly pointed nose matched his other features perfectly, as did his square jaw and pale skin. A thin beard harmonized the whole ensemble, and he blinks one of his eyes as he notices the girl's careful inspection.

Doctor Jeffrey Goodman was a comely man in his late thirties. His smile consisted of slender lips beneath a platinum mustache that matched his well-groomed platinum hair and slightly imperfect, pearly white teeth. It was so warm and friendly that I found it infectious. Grey, twinkling eyes that sat in just the right position on either side of a nose that could only be described as the perfect size and shape for his strong jaw and ruddy, high cheekbones assessed me from a few feet away. “So, Miss Sleuth, I understand that you’ve had quite an adventure.”

The unfamiliar face in the front had me pausing to catch my breath. The man looked like an angel. His skin was a flawless ivory painted over his large and muscular build. He looked maybe a year or two older than myself, and yet he looked completely ageless. His hair was a rich chocolate brown and fell to his shoulders in gentle waves. His chocolate hair framed his chiseled and defined face perfectly. He wore a simple fully black suit, the only hint of color was the scarlet pocket square on his suit. "Very very bad news." Shannon whispered lowly in my ear.

What more could there be? “What, Baby? What the Hell more could there be? What am I missing?" I reach my hand out and gently touch her back looking closer. I'm afraid if I put any amount of pressure on her skin the illusion will fade and she will be back to having severe wounds all over her body. “Do you see anything familiar, Sherlock Holmes?" I can hear the sarcasm in her voice. I look closer, trying to identify differences between yesterday and today. My eyes widen at the realization.

One knock, no answer, two, no response, three— “Who is it?” the voice came out rusty. “Danielle, Danielle Dawn—” The door slammed open in my face and a man stood in front of me in nothing but a rope, His eyes were ocean blue and his jawline seemed to have been made to perfection, he had this piercing gaze and black locks fell unto his face on Sherlock fashion. “Danielle?” He breathed, “What are you— How are you? Why do you look like this?” He gestured to my presence and I stepped aside so he could see Leon.

I couldn’t see the extension from his lower abdomen because of his shorts, and I was disappointed by that. I finally looked at his face, and it matched every body part I had seen so far. He had an oval-shaped face, slightly brown, thick lips, a beard that extended to his head, where he had a clean-shaven cut, and sleepy eyes. I loved sleepy eyes. It made one look innocent. Who was he?