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Post by Dominic Smith on Jul 13, 2006 14:15:57 GMT -5
Hello there everyone, here's the blurb of a new story from me featuring the fourth Doctor and Sarah Jane; Murder in the Night
By Dominic Smith
The Doctor and Sarah arrive in a stately manor in 1875, where a party held by Lord Frederick Illington is about to reach full swing. They are accidentally mistaken for guests and begin to blend in with the other dignitaries, all of whom appear to be government officials.
However amidst the banter and canopies there is danger afoot. Not long after the party begins the body of another dignitary is found by one of the maids, he appears to have been strangled. However, when the Doctor looks closer at the body he realises there is dirtier work afoot.
Soon more murders are taking place and an unknown man is stalking the grounds with sinister intentions. The Doctor and Sarah must find out who the murderer is and why he has started to kill key government officials, but when the Doctor is flung into the future he discovers a darker secret surrounds the situation, and the future of mankind is in jeopardy.
An original story featuring the Fourth Doctor and Sarah Jane Smith
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Post by Dominic Smith on Jul 13, 2006 14:16:27 GMT -5
Prologue
In the grand entrance hall of the stately countryside mansion the lord of the manor Lord Frederick Illington walked confidently across the highly polished floor, which gleamed with the reflection of the broad-shouldered master, dressed in his best tuxedo. He walked to the grand front doors flanked by two butlers who slowly pulled them open. He looked around as if searching for something then called out. “Jeeves”, his voice was confident and commanding. “Jeeves, come here on the double.”
Sure enough, from behind one of the small doors a weedy gangly little man dressed in a smart suit with a towel draped across one arm appeared. He closed the door behind him and walked forward to his master, who towered over him greatly. “Jeeves I want you to greet the guests and take their coats. After that direct them to me and I shall take them through to the lounge.” “Certainly sir”, chimed the butler. He gave a nod of the head and Lord Illington walked off leaving him alone by the open doors. Outside, across the road looping round the fountain by the gates he could see a man hiding behind the giant stone water feature. It signalled to him and he nodded, before watching as the first coach approached.
The coach pulled up by the grand stone stairs leading to the doors and after one of the servants opened the door a portly man came from within. He sauntered up the steps and Jeeves greeted him. He handed over his hat and coat before the butler announced him to the empty room. “Lord Oscar Harrison.” The portly man stepped forward and across the room Lord Illington appeared. “Oscar my dear chap so good to see you. Good journey?” “Adequate, bit bumpy on the way past Bedford and a spot of rain shortly after we left but otherwise fine.” “Ah excellent, do follow me to the lounge we’ve got drinks and canopies laid on.” “Actually Frederick I wonder if I could use your bathroom, bit of a long journey and no time to stop, need to tip the old skip”, he chortled and after Lord Illington gave him directions he was on his way up the grand staircase.
***
Some time after the hidden figure from behind the fountain was standing in the long hallway, waiting for his target. Pressed up against the wall between a ticking grandfather clock and a large potted plant his breathing was heavy. He was dressed in completely black robes, topped with a dark black mask. Slowly he could hear the gushing water of a tap and realised his target was on the way out. There was the flushing of a toilet and a click as the doorknob turned. This was it.
He leaped from where he was standing and jumped on the portly man who stood before him. They both fell to the floor and a struggle ensured but one swift punch from the attacker rendered his victim unconscious. From within the pocket of his trousers her pulled a needle. He removed the cover of the metallic top and looked at the glowing green liquid within. Slowly he pulled the collar of the man from his neck, revealing the bare flesh beneath. He placed the needle up against the skin and then pressed down, piercing the flesh with a weak pop. He pressed it in further then depressed the lever at the top of the tube, squirting the green liquid into the blood stream of his victim.
Slowly the serum took effect and giant bruises started to appear on the neck of the portly man. The windpipe collapsed and a weak groan escaped from the man’s lips as his life slipped away. The attacker stood up and looked around at the large hallway. He glared down once more at his victim then ran, full pelt for the open window at the end of the corridor. He clung to the drainpipe and slowly crawled down, before running off into the night, masked by the darkness.
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Post by Dominic Smith on Jul 14, 2006 6:06:05 GMT -5
Chapter One
“Lord and Lady Walter Baskrington”, came Jeeves’ voice across the grand hall and as the newly arrived guests, a tall man with a high-pointed nose and a young woman with bound blond hair, made their way with Lord Illington into the main lounge they were unaware of a mounting grinding noise issuing from a nearby cupboard.
***
Inside the small room, amidst the coats and shoes, the boxes and tins a large blue box slowly faded into view. The howling whir of its landing slowly faded and as the light on top of it flashed, revealing the inscription ‘Police Public Call Box’ one of the front doors opened and a young woman with dark brown hair stepped out.
“We’re in a broom cupboard”, she said with growing disappointment, “You’ve messed up again”. She picked up one of the unlabeled tins from a shelf nearby then looked inside. Finding it empty she turned back to the open doors as her friend stepped outside.
“Well this isn’t the Sydney Opera House”, he said looking around and adjusting his hat on his head of curled brown hair. “You never know, we might have landed in the wrong room” his companion replied. “Oh I have an extensive knowledge of cupboards Sarah, this isn’t the Opera House.” “Well where is it then?” “Some sort of manor I suppose”, he claimed as he took a small metal device from his pocket, tapping a few buttons and looking at the small glowing display screen. “1875 according to this, only one century out”. “Only?” “Pobody’s Nerfect Sarah.” He flashed her one of his toothy grins and she smiled back before he removed his hat and threw it back into the large blue box. He slowly took off his heavy burgundy coat and did the same before pulling the door closed. “Better see exactly where we are I suppose, make the most of it”.
He opened the heavy wooden door next to him and light poured into the room. Sarah blinked at the sudden change but her friend the Doctor strode confidently out and stopped as he surveyed the area around him.
They had emerged in a large room, what looked like the entrance hall of a large mansion. Giant paintings hung on the walls displaying long-dead soldiers standing over the bodies of their victims, tapestries and potted plants lined the room amidst giant windows that showed the ornate countryside beyond.
“Told you we were in a manor”, the Doctor touted hollowly as he gazed at the large painted ceiling far above him. “No need to be a show off”, she answered joining him in gazing around. She stared at the scenery outside and could swear there was a figure moving off in the distance but her attention was snapped back to the room when a harsh posh voice projected at them. “Who the blazes are you?” it said and as both the Doctor and Sarah turned to find where it was coming from they could see a small man in a pressed suit walking towards them. “Well it’s a bit difficult to explain”, the Doctor started but he was cut off as another man, taller and more authoritative this time, strode into the vast room. “Jeeves how dare you be so rude, get back to the door”, he scolded and as the little man walked off bitterly to the grand doors behind him the tall well-built man turned to the two travellers. “Welcome, you must be Lord and Lady Stapleforth, I’ve been expecting you, nice to meet you at last”. “Likewise”, replied the Doctor, slightly surprised at the ease of cobbling together an excuse. He was about to speak again but the man cut in.
“I’ve heard so much about you, so glad you could meet you, both of you. Allow me to introduce myself; I am Lord Illington, secretary at the secret service, allow me to show you to the guest lounge.” He turned and strode away and the Doctor motioned for Sarah to do the same. They both made their way across the giant room, past the snide look of the butler Jeeves and over towards another large door which Lord Illington opened with ease.
Beyond there lay another large room, a large chandelier hanging ceremoniously from the ceiling glittering by the lamps on the walls which stood above large tables of decorative finger food and glasses of champagne. The Middle of the room was empty save for a group of people standing and chatting. Lord Illington approached them and they each turned to observe the two new arrivals.
“Allow me to introduce Lord and Lady Stapleforth. This is my Wife Lady Isabella Illington, and our good friends Lord and Lady Baskrington.” “Charmed I’m sure”, came the reply of Lord Baskrington, and soon after Lady Baskrington had also introduced herself fully and Lady Illington followed suit. As Sarah talked to each of the partygoers in turn she discovered that Lady Illington was a key member of a local charity for the homeless and Lord Baskrington was involved in international relations for the British government. Last Baskrington was a simple housewife, but the true proprietor of her husbands vast fortunes. They had met when they were very young and had married as soon as they had reached the proper age. “Well now, all we’re waiting for is Jacques, Ian and Oscar and our little ensemble is complete”, said Lord Illington merrily. “Ah, and here come two of them now.”
Sure enough Jeeves had walked into the room accompanied by two more men. One was a tall weedy man with a small moustache and a goatee beard. The other was only a few inches taller but was better built with long flowing brown hair. “This is Jacques Herbert, French Minister of Defence”, Lord Illington announced and the tall weedy man stepped forward, bowing deeply. “This is Doctor Ian Agory, a very learned man, key consultant to the government and the throne itself.” The longhaired man merely bowed and handed his hat and cane to Jeeves, who began to walk off to the cupboard.
“What if he finds the TARDIS?” Sarah whispered to the Doctor as Jacques and Dr Agory joined in the chatter filling the room. “Oh he’ll say nothing”, the Doctor replied observing the other guests, “even if he did his mast wouldn’t believe him and he wont want to get yelled at again”. Sarah sighed and sipped her champagne. She looked down at the blood red dress she was wearing, something special she had found in the ships’ wardrobe. “Good thing we dressed for the occasion”, she commented and the Doctor looked at her dress before gazing down at his own garments, some dark brown trousers, a waistcoat and brown waist coat with his watch chain dangling before his stomach. “Indeed”, he added but his attention was grasped by the returning Jeeves, who proceeded on his master’s orders to serve food and refill glasses. Lord Illington continued his introductions until a thought struck him and he turned to one of the maids patrolling the room.
“Ah Sophia, could you pop upstairs and check where old Oscar has got to, seems to have disappeared somewhat.” She curtsied and walked off, leaving Lord Illington to turn to the Doctor and Sarah. “Oscar Harrison don’t you know, government advisor in more ways than one.” “Ah”, the Doctor chuckled with forced glee. He drank from his glass and Lord Illington turned to Sarah. “ My dear you simply must meet Jennifer Baskrington, she’s a keen dressmaker and yours if you don’t mind me saying is simply stunning.” “Thank you”, she shyly replied and followed him as he walked over to Lady Baskrington. “Ah Jennifer, thought you’d like to meet Cynthia Stapleforth.” Lord Illington looked from one woman to the other, smiled and walked off, leaving them alone. “Lovely to meet you”, Lady Baskrington said, touching Sarah’s arm, “Such a wonderful dress you must tell me where you brought it”. Sarah forced a smile and together they walked off to the other side of the room, away from the manly laughter. The Doctor met his companion’s eye and gave her an encouraging grin.
The Time Lord himself walked over to one of the tables of food and picked up one of the small cocktail nibbles, some unidentifiable pastry covered in sauce. He popped it in his mouth and chewed but found the taste far too sour, even for his own taste buds. As he proceeded to inspect the rest of the spread there came a piercing scream. He looked over at Sarah and as the rest of the guests stared shocked at each other he darted out of the door and back into the entrance hall. Lord Illington and Lord Baskrington were not far behind and the other male guests were not far behind.
“Madame this is not for female eyes”, Jacques protested as Sarah tried to follow but she was insistent. “Don’t be ridiculous”, she told him then ducked under his blocking arm and up the stairs. Lady Illington and Lady Baskrington did the same and soon they were all darting up the staircase.
The Doctor was the first to arrive on the hallway and found the maid Sophia standing pressed against the wall, her face stuck in a look of terror. Lord Illington appeared by his side and gasped and as Sarah fought her way forward to see what it was they were looking at she too threw her hand to her mouth in shock. There, lying before them was the twisted body of a portly gentleman, a look of terror on his solid face. His neck was covered in bruises where something had crushed his windpipe. Sarah looked over to the Doctor, who had kneeled down to inspect the body and he shook his head. As Lady Illington screamed and Lady Baskrington stumbled backwards, her cheeks turning green, Lord Illington confirmed the group’s suspicions.
“Oscar”…
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Post by Dominic Smith on Jul 15, 2006 11:25:23 GMT -5
Chapter Two
Jacques led Lady Baskrington and Lady Illington away back to the lounge as the Doctor examined the body of Oscar Harrison more closely. Doctor Agory merely observed that he had been strangled and the Doctor murmured in agreement but continued his examination.
Lord Baskrington led Sophia away down below to the servant’s quarters and Lord Illington merely looked on as the Doctor finally stood up and began to descend the staircase without a word. Sarah followed the nobleman’s gaze, first at the body, then to each other and then finally at the departing Time Lord.
“Lord Stapleforth, what have you deduced?” Lord Illington said as he and Sarah began to follow him. “As Doctor Agory said, it was strangulation”, he said as he reached the bottom of the stairs and walked past the stationary Agory. “Right well I’d better call the hospital, get her taken away. Jeeves, take her body to her bedroom and cover her up.” He moved with swift determination over to a small writing desk and started to pen a memorandum, which he handed to a nearby servant, who walked off below stairs.
As Agory returned to the party the Doctor prepared to follow but Sarah cut in, pulling him back to the main hall by the shirtsleeve. “So, what happened to the body?” “Like I said, strangulation”. “I know that look on your face, concern mixed with fear. That wasn’t strangulation and you know it”. “Alright”, he lowered his voice and leaned closer to her, “there was a small puncture wound on his neck, there was a trace of something round the wound, a green liquid.” “And that killed him?” “Not just killed him, it masked it’s own work by collapsing the windpipe and causing the bruising. By the paleness of the skin the liquid just absorbs the blood, leaves the heart without any and stops it functioning.”
Sarah flinched at the thought of what had happened. “Who did it then?” “I’m not sure, but the killer masked himself well, he wore gloves and non-descript shoes.” “How’d you know that?” “Elementary my dear Sarah”. He smiled weakly then continued to make his way back to the party. Sarah followed, still unnerved by the thought of the means of Oscar’s death. She’d not even met him yet still it seemed a bit too lethal, too ruthless. As she watched Lord Baskrington and Jacques comfort the disturbed ladies, she thought what sort of chemical could have such an effect, surely nothing of human design.
Lord Illington was soon rejoining the little procession and comforting his own wife, as Jacques and Dr Agory mumbled to themselves and the Doctor looked around the room, inspecting every detail with a single glance.
“My good woman you must try not to be too upset”, Dr Agory had finished talking to Jacques and was standing before her. She reeled slightly in shock, pulling herself back together before taking the glass of wine he held out to her. “Why not be upset? A man has died after all”, she asked with an obviously fake upbeat tone. “My dear if you had known Oscar Harrison you would not feel so upset”. “Lady Illington and Lady Baskrington seem rather perturbed by it.” “They’ve never met”. Sarah paused and thought for a second. “So what was he like then? Lord Illington said he was a government advisor.” “In more ways than one?” “Well…yes”. “Oscar did indeed advise the government but he wasn’t exactly above board. He wormed his way through the corridors of power, used his advisory position to better himself, more funding for his bridge club, better security for people with his kind of wealth at their homes, that sort of thing.” “I see.” “Made himself very unpopular oversees, started trying to deport anyone of non-English origin. Tried to sell the idea to the government that all foreigners should be thrown abroad but it never worked. Even tried to sell it to the monarchy but still he never quite got his wish.” “Why would he want to deport them?” “Stuck to his old values, believed in keeping the race pure.” “Never a good idea”, Sarah muttered to herself. “Pardon?” “Never mind”, she said with another put-on smile and Agory walked away, leaving the Doctor to step forward, still looking around at the room.
“Did you hear that?” Sarah asked as he continued his investigation. He snapped back to looking at her face. “Every word, not a very clever way to get yourself friends, racism.” “Mind you, might give us a clue towards the murderer.” “Jacques you mean?” “Well when we heard that maid’s scream he told me not to go and look because it was not for female eyes, as if he already knew what was going on.” “That topped with him being from France and Oscar having a dislike for the different does give him a motive.” “Time to search his pockets for needles?” “No, wait a bit to see what else happens, I’ve got a feeling tonight’s little games aren’t over yet.”
***
As the party continued into the night and Lord Illington’s message was well on it’s way to the local hospital and police stations, the ladies were beginning to get over their shock and were soon laughing at their husbands jokes once again. Jacques remained rather grim and silent, sipping his wine and talking with however tried to make conversation with him, resulting to one word answers or short questions he asked without any feeling.
Dr Agory began talking with Lord Illington about art and the latest pieces they had brought at auction. Lady Illington talked excitedly with Lord Baskrington, giggling at his every word whilst Lady Baskrington sat drinking her wine and fanning herself. Sarah meanwhile still talked with the Doctor, who had sat in one corner of the room staring into space before him. “So have you found anything interesting with the room Lord Stapleforth?” “Not really”, he said leaning back into his chair, not really bothering to smile. “No secret passageways or trapdoors the killer escaped down?” “Oh he never came in here Sarah, he escaped down the drainpipe outside the window at the end of the hallway.” “How did you know that?” she asked, rather astounded due to the fact he had only been in the hallway for a few moments. “Oh there were a few impressions left on the carpet, quite deep too which seemed to imply the person they belonged to was running. The window was still open slightly which might mean it was closed from the inside and blown upon with the draft that came from the open front door when the guests arrived.” “What else,” she replied wearily, kneeling beside him and letting his head drop down so that her chin touched a neck. As the Doctor started to stare into nothingness again, his alien brain pondering the night’s events so far, Sarah looked up and with a sigh returned to her feet, walking off to pick at the now cold and damp buffet.
“Well now”, announced Lord Illington some moment later, “Thought I’d go and show Dr Agory here the new oil painting in the east wing, anyone else fancy joining us?” There came a mutter of general decline to his invitation but nevertheless her remained cheerful. “Oh well, just myself and the good Doctor then, this way Agory” and with that they were gone from the room, making their way through the enormous manor. “I too feel like a little detour from this merriment”, came the flustered voice of Lady Baskrington, “I could do with some fresh air”. The others watched her go as she made her way out of the room, down one of the corridors and away through the maze of hallways to the giant garden outside.
“Hiding a guilty conscience?” Sarah asked to the still seated Doctor, hiding behind closed eyes. “I doubt it”, he said without opening his eyes, “Even though Oscar Harrison was hardly the most physically fit gentlemen it would still take a man to bring him down and forcibly inject him in the neck”. Sarah sighted again at his words and again went off to talk to the still rather silent Jacques Hubert.
***
Having found her way through the many corridors of the house Lady Baskrington finally found herself in the vast garden landscape of the Illington manor. The night masked the true beauty of the garden, the fragrant flowers of a thousand shades of colour, the lush greenery and the bubbling fountains of crystal clear water, fresh as a summer’s breeze.
Yet now, even beneath the lamplight the garden seemed dead to the world. The many colours were reduced to shades of the same darkness; the insects of the night seemed more silent than usual, as if something had disturbed them, forcing them to silence. She made her way to a small ornate stone bench next to the outer wall of the grand house. She took from her volumous dress a decorative fan; she extended it and began waving it delicately before her face. As she stopped to take breath she could hear something shuffling not a very long way away. She peered around at the sights surrounding her but nothing seemed out of place, everything was as it should be.
She continued to fan herself, unaware there was someone waiting for her round the corner of the house. Again she could hear a shuffling, almost breathing and again she stopped fanning herself and looked around. She stood up to see around her but again there was nothing unusual to be seen. “Who’s there?” she asked timidly, only answered by the twittering of a retreating bird. Again she sat down, and that was when the hiding figure struck.
He flew onto her, engulfing her face and covering her mouth before she could scream. She struggled to break free but he was too strong for her. She did however manage to rip the cloth from her face and gasped as she recognised the face beneath. She tried to call out its name but it was too late. The attacker withdrew a needle from his pocket and plunged it into her neck, secreting its contents into her blood stream. The air escaped her lungs and as he let go of her and ran off into the night, she slumped down into the bench, stone dead…
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Post by Dominic Smith on Jul 16, 2006 13:47:35 GMT -5
Chapter Three
“The hospital’s taking a long time”, claimed Lord Baskrington as the depleted number of guests sat and whiled the long night away. “The rain’s picking up again”, noted Lady Illington who sat beside the window, staring longingly out into the night. “There’s some damned bumpy roads on the way out from the city, wouldn’t be surprised if they had to change a wheel on the way.” “Sounds like the TARDIS”, muttered Sarah in the Doctor’s ear before settling back down into the sofa they were seated at. “Only the wheel’s the cross-dimensional stabiliser”, he replied behind the hand he held before his mouth, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair and his eyes staring out into the night. “I wonder where Lord Illington and Doctor Agory have gone”, proclaimed Jacques from his corner of the room, a large glass of wine cradled in his hand.
“Speak of the devil”, proclaimed Lord Baskrington and sure enough Agory coolly walked through the door, his thumb and forefinger tensing his sinuses. “Where is Frederick?” asked Lady Illington, turning from the window and standing up from his chair. “Oh he’s gone outside for a cigar”, he said, letting his hand drop to his side and taking a glass of wine from the maid who greeted him on his way in. “Such a wonderful man”, sighed Lady Illington, “refuses to smoke in the house at all, says it’s wrong for a lady to have to put up with it, well most of the time”, she chuckled and reclined back into her chair. “Enjoy the painting Doctor Agory?” asked the Doctor snapping out of his apparent trance. “Very interesting”, he replied. “I cant’s stand it myself”, confessed Lady Illington, fanning herself. “Why’s that then?” asked Sarah following the Doctor’s example of perking up.
“It’s not for the faint hearted”, Agory replied with an almost cheerful lilt to his voice. “It’s from an unknown artist, painted some hundred years or so ago. It’s a landscape of hell.” “Charming review”, smiled Sarah but her humour received little more than a polite chuckle from Lord Baskrington and a tired smirk from the Doctor. “Quite literally, it depicts a woman standing at the gates of hell calling out to her lost husband. He’s standing manacled to a score of doomed soles, only unlike them he retains his human form in pristine condition; no scars or amputations, no marks or impurities.” Despite the looks or grimace from most of the other guests he continued. “He’s screaming out to be let go, be allowed back to Earth because he knows he doesn’t belong there. Yet there he stands, awaiting the wrath of Beelzebub.” “Where did you husband get this painting Isabella?” asked Lord Baskrington as he sipped from his glass of brandy. “Oh some auction up north I seem to recall, came home after one of his antique hunts and put it up in one of the hallways, I daren’t go down there now, there’s something about it that makes me shiver whenever I walk past it.”
“But come now Doctor Agory, you’ve yet to tell us your opinions of it”, asked Jacques from the corner, a twisted smile on his face. “Well it’s a rather graphic description”, he began, “Very Dante if you ask me but nothing that shouldn’t be said”. “Really?” came the Doctor again from behind his hand, which extended above his head into a yawn. “Well death is something none of us can escape,” he said simply, “and in the religious world of today and the escalating crime scenes that line our roads why not scare people into choosing the right path.” “Indeed”, came the Time Lord’s reply, “but surely not everyone believes in heaven and hell”. “The man in the painting obviously didn’t”, muttered Jacques. “Why do you say that?” asked Sarah. “Well he’s not susceptible to the tortures of hell, he remained whole. Surely if you can’t believe in something it can’t hurt you.” “Oh you’d be surprised smiled the Doctor and drank deeply from his glass.
There followed a long silence as Doctor Agory reclined on another sofa, the Doctor dozed quietly and Sarah stared at the floor. Jacques reflected on Agory’s description of the painting and Lord Baskrington sat and savoured his brandy, sighing with every gulp. It was some time before anyone spoke again. “Well my dear Frederick seems to be taking his time, I think I might go and see if he’s got himself lost in the corridors, he does get so side-tracked these days”, came the voice of Lady Illington as she got up from her chair. “My dear you should never interrupt a man when he’s smoking”, chortled Lord Baskrington. “Oh he won’t mind,” she replied and continued on her way out. Sarah watched her go and then looked over at the sleeping Doctor, his head flung back and his mouth slightly ajar. She let her head fall to her chest again then leant back as Lord Baskrington finished his brandy and put the glass on his table, before getting up and deciding to lighten the mood.
“Well then”, he announced, “who’s for a game or two, no use sitting here like the dead all night, it is a party after all”. There came no real reply but he continued anyway. “How about a riddle? Here’s one for you. What can go up a chimney down but can’t go down a chimney up?” “An umbrella” came the reply from everyone in the room; even the Doctor muttered the response from his slumber on the sofa. “Jolly good”, he chuckled, clasping his hands and striding around the room. “Who’s next then? Tell you what, Jacques old man why don’t you have a go?”
Jacques barely had time to give him a nasty condescending look before the silence was pierced by a blood-curdling scream. Everyone sprung from their seats and the Doctor was the first to hurtle out of the room at full speed, off into the maze of corridors. Sarah followed and Lord Baskrington was not far behind. They ran at full speed, following the Doctor as he hurtled along, seeming to know exactly the right direction to go in. Moments later after Sarah had begun to develop a stitch in her side they arrived at the doors to the garden, which were flung wide open. Lady Illington was standing feet away from one of the stone benches lining the wall on which Lady Baskrington was slumped, her head lolling unnaturally on chest. From the corner of the wall leading round the house Lord Illington appeared, dropping the end of his cigar as he went. His wife flew into his arms, sobbing at the sight before her and as the Doctor approached Lady Baskrington Sarah seemed to know what he was about to uncover. Sure enough as he rested her chin on his hand and lifted it up he could see the deep strangulation wounds, the collapsed windpipe and not so far away, on the side of her neck the tiny punctuation wound.
“Good god, Jennifer!” cried Lord Baskrington and he flew forward, hugging the dead body of his wife, sobbing and cradling her in his arms. Lord Illington leaned forward and placed an arm on his shoulder, as did Doctor Agory but the Doctor was already busy with another matter. Having looked around he darted back into the house and Sarah was left wondering where and why he had gone. Suddenly she realised that Jacques had gone and began to run back inside.
***
The Doctor had realised the moment he stepped away from the body of Lady Baskrington. Sarah and Lord Baskrington arrived almost immediately and Doctor Agory moments after, but Jacques was nowhere to be seen. He arrived back at the lounge but there was no sign of the Frenchman, only the spilt glass of wine he had left behind in the corner of the room.
He darted back into the main entrance hall and began scouting around, rooted to the sport. He stared at the large alcoves lined with plants, the giant decorative ceiling and the paintings and murals. He darted towards the stairs as Sarah joined him breathlessly from within the lounge. She began to follow him up the grand staircase but he had stopped.
She began to ask what was going on but he raised a hand to silence her. She stopped and leaned round to follow hi eye-line, she stood routed to the spot as the Doctor slowly climbed down the stairs and off towards one wall. She looked around at the giant room as Jeeves made his way out of a servant’s room and across the hall, carrying another tray of glasses, glancing at the Doctor as he strode past. “Oh Jeeves”, she said reaching out and grabbing his arm, “they’re all outside, you might want to take something stronger.” He nodded and continued his stately walk into the lounge as she turned to watch him go, before walking after the Doctor. He was standing before the large grandfather clock that stood against one of the walls. “Interesting”, he pondered.
“Look this in no time to ponder the deeper meanings of time and space, even if you are a Time Lord. Lady Baskrington is dead and Jacques getting away.” “Getting away? You make it sound as if he was the murderer.” “Well why else would he run away?” “What makes you think he was running away?” “Well he...wait a minute, that clock isn’t ticking is it? You don’t think…” She began but her worst thoughts were confirmed as the Doctor leant forward and pulled the door of the case open. Inside the pendulum had ceased to swing, it was jammed up against one side of the case by a large object that by no means was supposed to be inside…Jacques Hubert.
“Oh…my…” Sarah reeled backwards, her hands clenched to her mouth. Jacques was stuffed inside, his neck covered in bruises. On the side of his neck was a minute puncture wound but neither of these was the main focus of the spectacle before them; the real horror as Sarah saw it was the twisted look of horror that was plastered across his face, a look of cold blooded terror. The murderer had claimed his next victim…
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Post by Dominic Smith on Jul 17, 2006 14:54:32 GMT -5
Chapter Four
Some time later the other bodies were being taken away, carried up the staircases to join Oscar Harrison in one of the spare rooms. As the Doctor and Sarah looked on at the bleak entourage Lord Illington began to curse the lateness of the hospital and proceeded to pen another urgent letter, this time to the police. As he angrily scribbled at the paper upon a small table in the entrance hall, the Doctor broke away from the sight of the retreating bodies and with Sarah to the lounge where the atmosphere was no better.
Lord Baskrington sat on one of the sofas, his head in his hands. Lady Illington sat with him, an arm round his shoulder and her head deeply bowed with his own, muttering words of comfort. Doctor Agory stood pouring a large brandy into a glass, before handing it to the devastated Lord Baskrington and patting him on the back. “But why?” Baskrington sobbed as he swirled the drink around in its glass. “She never did anyone any harm, not a soul. Why kill her?” “Oh Walter I doubt we’ll ever know, why would they have killed Oscar or Jacques?” Lady Illington said with a sympathetic voice. “She had no enemies, she said a bad word of no-one, what on Earth would anyone have against her?” “Not everyone likes a goody-two-shoes”, the Doctor chimed as he leaned against one of the tables lining the room. The others, including Sarah looked at him then returned to comforting Lord Baskrington as Lord Illington finished writing his message and sending it on its way.
***
It was some time before Lord Baskrington had managed to pull himself together. Despite his neat composure and solid face Sarah could tell he was still shattered inside. Occasionally he would let his eyes close as if trying to stop and escaping tear, he ran his hands over his forehead in dismay a she though of a future without the one he truly loved. Lady Illington was by his side for the entire night, comforting him when she saw he was falling apart and spreading humour over the gaping wounds that the night’s events had left behind. He seemed to laugh full-heartedly, that deep throated laugh Sarah had come to dislike because it sounded so fake; but now his inner feelings had been exposed she could see exactly how much he needed to laugh and how genuine it was when he did.
The Doctor spent much of the time glancing around as he always did when slightly bored, but still there was an intense look of puzzlement upon his face, some kind of subconscious concentration that made him seem almost austere. Lord Illington talked gravely with Doctor Agory and from what Sarah could gather from their deep mumblings they were discussing something to do with the security measures surrounding the house. Indeed Lord Illington called Jeeves over to tell him something and after bowing he departed, leaving to consult another of the more strong-built serving staff and together they went out into the front yard.
As Sarah slowly began to realise exactly how tired she was, she walked over to the Doctor and broke him from his glance. “I think I need to get some sleep. You Time Lords might be able to go weeks on end without forty winks but I need to have a lie down once in a while.” The Doctor seemed to hum in approval then snapped out of his deep thoughts and turned to look at her. “Yes of course. He began to reach for the chain on which hung the TARDIS key but then lowered his arms and led Sarah over to the far side of the room.
“What is it? What?” she spluttered as he tugged her by the arm over to the sofa by the window, neglecting to take time to sit down. “I’ve been thinking about these murders.” “You’ve worked out who the murderer is?” “That’s the thing, there’s no one person who could have been either present to commit all three acts or have the motives to do so.” “What do you mean?” “Take Lord Illington. Yes he could have knocked off Oscar Harrison soon after he arrived and then seen to Lady Baskrington when he went outside to smoke, but surely in a house of this size he couldn’t have had time to grab Jacques Hubert, kill him and hide the body before running back round the building to meet us where we found Lady Baskrington’s body. “What about a secret passage?” “Still not enough time to do it in.” “Well what about Lady Illington?” “No, remember I said that it would take a man to bring down a gentleman like Lord Harrison.” “So that leaves Lord Baskrington and Doctor Agory, and judging by the state of Lord Baskrington I doubt he would murder his own wife, I mean you can’t fake that sort of emotion.” “Indeed and Doctor Agory, like the other guests, was nowhere near the house when Oscar Harrison was killed and had scarcely enough time to kill and hide Jacques Hubert when we left the room after we heard the scream from outside.” “I see what you mean”, Sarah admitted, looking around at the other guests. “So who could have done it, one of the kitchen staff? That Jeeves sends the chills down my spine.” “Good thought but surely a weedy man like him could sink men still in their prime of physical health like Jacques?” “So who was it then?” “That’s what I’m trying to work out, it’s gnawing away at my brain like a dog with a pork chop.” “Charming”, Sarah sighed before a thought struck her head. “You know when we heard the maid screaming after she found Oscar?” the Doctor hummed in understanding, whilst sipping from a new glass filled with water. “Well when I tried to leave the room, Jacques told me that the sight was not for female eyes.” “And?” “Well how did he know that if he’d not seen the body?” “Yes but then why would he kill himself?” “Guilty conscience”, she said simply but there was a look on the Doctor’s face that seemed to tell her she was wrong. “Mind you, how would he then drag himself into a grandfather clock and close the door behind him?” “Either something went wrong with the injection and he had time to conceal himself or someone found his body and hid him” the Time Lord pondered. “That doesn’t excuse that horrified look on his face.” The Doctor hummed in agreement again then sat down his glass. “I need to get my coat from the TARDIS, don’t seem to feel right, pondering without it.” “Your thinking jacket?” Sarah half smiled. “You still want to lie down?” he asked as he took out the TARDIS key still dangling on its chain. “Not just yet, I’d better give my condolences to Lord Baskrington, its only polite.” The Doctor nodded and patted her on the arm before departing back through the lounge to return to the broom cupboard.
“I say where’s old Stapleforth off to?” asked Lord Illington as he watched the Doctor go. “Oh he’s just off to get something from his coat, full of little knick-knacks that help him concentrate.” Lord Illington nodded in approval and returned to pouring another round of drinks as Sarah approached Lord Baskrington who was giggling with Lady Illington. “Lord Baskrington”, she said timidly and he turned to look at her, a smile spread across his face she could barely bring herself to crack. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For what happened to your wife. I’m sorry.” His smile seemed to drop but didn’t fade entirely. “I know my dear. Jennifer was a wonderful woman, a loss to us all.” He paused and drew a long breath, sighing as he continued, “But life must move on. After tonight I shall find out who which blaggard did the deed and see he is drawn to rights.” Again he paused and seemed to glance at the busied Lord Illington before returning to Sarah’s tired face. “Then after that I’ll…” He could not continue because as he spoke an unearthly noise filled the air, which made Sarah’s heart skipped a beat.
***
The Doctor wearily unlocked the TARDIS door and slowly walked inside, closing it after him. Entering into the giant warm, glowing interior beyond he walked over to where his discarded coat and hat had landed on the floor. He picked them both up and as he looked around at the welcoming surroundings he knew so well he hung the hat on the hat stand and then put on his coat. Shrugging his shoulders to let it wear in he began to stride across the giant console room, only stopping to lift one of his feet from the floor tuck it behind his upper leg and rubbing his sore toes within his heavy leather boots.
As he walked around the console running his fingers along the large white computer he thought more about the matter in hand. If none of the guests were to blame for the murders then could it be someone outside of the house. Another entity all together, that wanted them all dead for a completely different reason. He still had no idea where exactly the house was, or indeed where the real Lord and Lady Stapleforth had gotten to if they had not arrived at the party. Perhaps the murderer had seen to them already. Then there was the motive. Most of the guests seemed to be government officials, so what was to be gained from killing them? Lady Baskrington didn’t seem to hold any key position in government so why kill her? To keep her quiet?
Suddenly the whole room lurched to one side. The Doctor was caught off balance and crashed to the floor. After the turbulence ended he picked up the hat stand and adjusted it in the corner, before realising what had happened. The ship was in flight. “I didn’t set the coordinates”, he muttered as he tried to stop what was happening. As he flicked the different switches to no avail he finally had the guts to state what was happening. “It’s flying itself. What is it old girl?” he stared deep into the moving central column. “What is it you need to show me?”
***
Sarah heard the whirring grind of the TARDIS departing the moment the first thud had rung though the entrance hall and into the lounge. As the rhythmic screeching began to get louder and louder she hurtled out the room at an alarming speed and darted across the entrance hall, flinging open the cupboard door only to see the faint outline of the ship fade away…
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Post by Dominic Smith on Jul 18, 2006 15:02:19 GMT -5
Chapter Five
No matter how long you had known the Doctor it was never entirely possible to guess exactly what he would do in any given situation. He had an almost aggravating unpredictability at some of the most awkward times, even when his actions seemed to be set in stone. Not so long ago he had had the chance to wipe the most evil creatures the universe has ever seen from the face of time itself but his morality had gotten the better of him. Inside the TARDIS he would change his mind about where to go quicker than turning on a light and his opinions could flick from one to the other before you could ponder his latest statement.
Sarah often thought it was a side-effect of his regeneration, the Brigadier had warned her his behaviour could be erratic after such a big change but even now, after what seemed such a long time since the threat of the planet of spiders, he seemed not to have mellowed. Yet perhaps that was his character. Surely if his mind had been reborn his personality could change as well. Gone was the sterner man with the mighty nose, a man of high moral values and a sometimes-wicked sense of humour. Now there came the two-sided man; he could be a jester with a toothy grin but all the same he could freeze a man with a glance. His motives were his own and without Harry to help her really understand and adapt it seemed Sarah was really on her own.
And this was one of those unpredictable moments; he had gone without telling her and what’s more had lied to her in order to get away. If only she had gone with him to lie down she would not have been left behind, something so simple yet so excruciating that it would only have taken the slightest moment to change her mind. She stood for only a few seconds staring at the empty darkness of the cupboard but so many thoughts were pouring through her head. Sadness that he was gone and with the TARDIS’ unpredictability there was a chance he wouldn’t return. Confusion at why he would have gone without her and lied to do so. Then there came anger. She had been angry with the Doctor before but never so deeply as this, and it wasn’t something she was proud of. She may have faced terrors others could only dreamed of but really he could always make it up to her. He had taken her to places of beauty and unbridled joy, yet despite this she was angry. After all they had been through he ad gone, not even telling her why or hinting he was about to do something terrible. Even worse he had left her in a house with a murder in it, and without much to defend herself with.
As she rejoined the party and muttered some excuse for her friend’s departure even she couldn’t quite understand or believe she began to realise things might not be as bad as it seemed. After all the Doctor was a man of mystery and as she admitted his motives were his own, perhaps his motives were clear to himself and himself alone and they did involve returning to find her. He was not one to easy turn away from a mystery, perhaps he wanted to go somewhere and find out more; visit the future ad read all about the murders in a newspaper the following week and work out who the murderer was before returning and stopping him before he struck again.
So here she was. Alone in the house with her best friend out in the furthest reaches in time and space hurtling around in a ship that had the reliability of a London tube train. Yet somehow she had to keep her mind off of it, she had to keep on the investigation he himself would have undertaken should he have been there. She looked around at the guests who were all avoiding her gaze, no doubt thinking he and the Doctor, alias Lord Stapleforth, had had a row and he had stormed off. She sighed and began to think of what to say.
***
The Doctor ran frantically around the console room yanking at the many levers and stabbing at the hoards of buttons, but nothing he did, save opening the scanner to see the swirls of the time vortex, made any difference. He stepped back and ran his hand through his hair before mopping the sweat from his brow. The ship had flown out of his control before, back when he was marooned in an exile on Earth. The Time Lords had used a remote control to move the ship and guide it, as well has him, to where there was a sign of trouble. Perhaps they had seen the repercussions of the night he had left behind and wanted him to see the trouble that lay ahead should he fail to stop the murderer, they always enjoyed rubbing his face in it.
Yet somehow it seemed to him the Time Lords were not to blame. There was a change in tone of the vibrations the ship emitted. They seemed to try and comfort him, reassure him everything was fine and was going to work out well. He allowed the rhythmic vibrations to flow through him and slowly they seemed to develop into a heartbeat. As the beating pounded into his head the ship seemed to reach out to him. A sound like a gentle voice singing an eternal melody seemed to comfort him and flow through every cell of his body. He dropped to his knees as the singing cleansed his soul; it was if something, maybe even someone was calling out to him to tell him he was not alone, he would always have someone to save him, someone to be with him, someone to take shelter in.
As his mind snapped into reality and the music faded he began to realise where the voice was calling from, and who exactly it was. As he got to his feet the echoed singing melded to become the screeching of the ship arriving. Wherever he had been taken, by whoever or whatever had taken him, he was at his destination. He adjusted his coat and glanced at his hat. He placed it on his head and then moved to open the doors but they did so on their own accord. He took a deep breath and stepped outside.
***
“So why would someone want to murder these people?” Sarah asked now the centre of attention. “One can only presume it was for power”, Lady Illington said as she fanned herself in the gaining heat of the night. “Indeed”, announced Lord Illington, “we are all rather important to the crown’s country, get rid of us what would it lead to?” Doctor Agory sighed and pored himself another drink. “But what about my dear Jennifer?” asked Lord Baskrington from the corner of the room. Lady Illington looked over and pulled a sympathetic face, which made him smile. “That’s the thing”, pondered Sarah, “Perhaps she knew something and the murderer had to get her out of the way.” “Or he just couldn’t stand her”, Lord Illington said from behind his glass an Lord Baskrington looked not a little shocked. He breathed as if to say something but Lady Illington placed her arm on his leg and he was forced to stop. Sarah sighed and bit her nail as an awkward silence fell on the room. She could only hope the Doctor was having more luck, wherever he was.
***
It was the same cupboard. It was the same cupboard in the same house. The Doctor had stepped outside and looked at the familiar piles of supplies surrounding him. This time however the door was locked and he had to use the sonic screwdriver to open it.
Outside everything seemed exactly the same except it was daylight, yet it was still rather dark. The windows surrounding the door had been boarded up and the door was barricaded shut. The hall was deserted and everything seemed to have been tied down to the place it stood upon. Slowly but surely he was ascending the giant staircase and began to notice some of the decor was the same. The giant painting Doctor Agory had described to them some time before now hung at the top of the stairs and it was every bit as macabre as he had implied. The figure standing in the depths of hell was in perfect condition, not a scratch to his skin or tear to his clothes whereas the others, all on their knees screaming with mutilated faces and rags for clothing.
Yet there was something Agory had not described. The man seemed to be holding a match, and was raising it up to the skies. As the Doctor followed his minute eye-line he could see he was looking at a bush on the Earth art of the landscape, above the gates of hell. There, hiding behind the foliage was another man, almost identical to the one standing in hell, also holding a match and raising it to the sky. “Interesting”, the Doctor murmured, “as if he was hiding from death. Treating it as an illusion.” He moved on, up the rest of the stairs and into the corridor in which they had found Oscar Harrison. He moved along down into another corridor lined with boarded up windows. He strode around seeming not to encounter anyone before he decided to check some of the rooms. Most of them were bedrooms, or had been converted into bedrooms.
Dozens of makeshift beds had been piled into the rooms and on each was piled a kind of uniform. He searched through the small bundles and found a knife concealed in each one. He moved on and paced the long corridors for some time before hearing approaching footsteps. He concealed himself in a large cupboard and looked through a crack in the doors as two soldiers walked past. He slowly got out and continued on his way as he found himself at the front of the house again, this time on the story above the front door looking out into the yard where one window had not yet been boarded up yet. He looked outside and watched as hundreds of other soldiers milled around, covering the yard in embankments of sandbags. The large fountain had been turned off and the drive was lined with large lorries full of men and equipment.
“The war to end all wars”, the Doctor muttered before returning to gazing down the corridor and returning to the cupboard he had hidden in moments ago. Inside he found a small pinup calendar and as he flicked through the twelve months of the year he glanced stone-faced at the year than followed each of the names of the month. This was not 1875, where he had just come from. This was not even during the First World War between 1914 and 1918. As he placed the calendar back in the cupboard and closed the doors the reality sank in. The date was not even amidst the Second World War between 1939 and 1945. This was England. In the midst of battle. In 1924.
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Post by Dominic Smith on Jul 20, 2006 1:08:02 GMT -5
Chapter Six
Sarah had sat in an uneasy silence for some time, as eyes began to stare accusingly at each other. She stared around again for what must have been the one-hundredth time at the decor of the room whilst she sat with a wine glass held at arms length, settling it down on her knees. It seemed like an hour had passed before Lord Illington broke the silence with an impatient voice. “For gods sake, how long will those damned police take?” He stood up and placed down his glass. “I’d better check there’s been no reply.” He stormed out narrowly avoiding slamming the door as he went and as he departed it seemed that there was a more relaxed atmosphere that washed over the rest of the guests.
“So, young Cynthia”, Lord Baskrington half announced as he lay back in his chair, watched tentatively by Lady Illington, “Take yourself as a bit of a detective do you?” Sarah was more than slightly taken aback and drew herself up in her chair. “What makes you say that?” “Well you seem to like asking a lot of questions, hardly the women’s way is it?” “Indeed”, added Doctor Agory from the corner. “There’s nothing wrong with a little curiosity”, she muttered, still flustered by his forwardness. “Let’s hope you’re not a cat lover”, he almost accused and then walked outside. The remaining three guests looked at each other and Lady Illington followed him at a trot.
“You can hardly expect him to be all cheers and smiles Miss Stapleforth, he has just lost his wife”, Agory said with great ease, almost slurring his words as the copious amounts of wine they had all drunk began to take their toll. “He seems to be getting on well enough with Lady Illington”. “Sometimes we all need the company of a good woman”. “Even if she’s a bit curious?” Sarah added and got to her feet to stretch her legs. “You forget these values Miss Stapleforth, etiquette is very important here.” Sarah pondered his rather strange choice of words but dismissed them as another of his little attempts to play on her mind. “Well Miss Stapleforth…” “Lady”, Sarah said rather firmly. “I beg you’re pardon?” “My name Doctor Agory is Lady Stapleforth”. “Oh course”, he nodded to her and then began again. “Well Lady Stapleforth I’m afraid I must bid you leave for a few minutes, we must all answer to the call of nature.” He put down the glass of brandy we was holding and walked out, leaving Sarah alone to sigh. She’d really put her foot in it this time. In the distance she could hear a lyrical giggling and as she too placed her glass down on a nearby table she looked around one last time and prepared to make her way outside.
***
The Doctor had placed the calendar back in the cupboard and closed the doors, stopped momentarily to ponder what he had just seen. He returned to the un-boarded window and glanced out at the bust soldiers, building defences and handing out arms. Overhead there was the roar of an engine and there passed straight over a giant plane emblazed with the union jack, only over the top of the flag was a giant snake, looped to eating it’s own tail. “Ouroboros”, the Doctor muttered then returned to pacing down the corridor, unaware that outside one of the soldiers had seen him.
He returned back down the staircase and entered the lounge where nearly fifty years ago he had sat with Sarah and sipped champagne. The room was bare now; the paintings and etchings had gone and were replaced with large maps of the world, from hundreds of years ago to the present day. He slowly began to wonder where Sarah was now. Of course he would return to fetch he but at the moment she would have been left at the party, with the murderer.
Suddenly there came a giant clattering of boots, heading towards him. Realising someone must have spotted him through the window earlier he ran for cover, pelting through the corridors leading out of the room, which only hours ago he had run along to find the body of Lady Baskrington. He managed to find another staircase and ran up it like the clappers, recognising the corridor he had emerged in. He ran along, glancing back over his shoulder as the clattering of boots proceeded up the staircase he had found. He turned around a corner and stopped briefly to catch his breath before setting off again, passing the cupboard and the un-boarded window. He turned another corner and once again glanced over his shoulder, but it was a mistake he would come to regret.
Waiting for him around the corner was another troop of soldiers. The first elbowed him in the stomach and he went down, falling to the floor as the soldiers readied their guns.
***
Sarah mad her way back along the maze of corridors and emerged at the large French doors, which hung open in the crisp night air. She took an uneasy step outside and let the summer breeze was through her. She peaked around the doorframe to where she could see, sat on the very bench his wife had been found dead, was Lord Baskrington. In his arms hung Lady Illington, smothering him in kisses and stroking his face and hair.
She looked for a second and sighed, it was obvious from the way the two had behaved back at the party that there was something between them, but the nerve of Lord Baskrington to flirt with another woman, so soon after his wife was murdered, she was still lying alone in one of the rooms upstairs. “They say some men need the love of a good woman”, she announced as she stepped fully through the doorway. “Although this is rather taking the biscuit.” “How dare you poke around in my private affairs”, Lord Baskrington sneered as he stood up, Lady Illington doing the same with an embarrassed frown. “I think it’s more a case of How dare you, Lord Baskrington. You see…” she began but something in the corner of her eye made her stop in mid sentence. “Oh. My. God”, she stuttered and began to run down the garden, leaving Lord Baskrington and Lady Illington to stare on dumbfounded.
She had seen a shadowy figure crouched over down the end of the garden and as it had straightened up and seen them it had begun to run. Sarah was soon to take chase but her rather clumsy slipper-shoes had hindered her advance. She could only look on as the figure flew over the wall at the bottom of the garden, and sighed, putting her hands to her face. She turned to leave but something caught her eye, a shimmer in the darkness of the ground in the depths of the night. She knelt down and brushed away some of the grass and twigs that were covering it and found it was a large silver box. Slowly and cautiously she lifted and the lid and as Lord Baskrington joined her in a blaze of anger she gasped at what was inside, a series of four needles filled with a glowing green serum.
***
“I do love the summer”, the Doctor chattered. He was sat in a chair surrounded by soldiers in what appeared to be the nerve centre of the operations that were being held in the house. “Such wonderful heat”, he continued as the soldiers stared coldly at him, guns raised. “Well weather isn’t everyone’s optimum conversation”, he pondered looking around at the giant strategy board that proved the centre of the room. Models of tanks and tiny men stood across the entire globe and all over the walls of the room were plastered reports and top secret strategies, weapons of destruction in all but name. The Doctor sighed and began to whistle a jaunty tune but when one of the soldiers released the safety catch on his rifle he was soon silent. As he looked around again he was welcomed by another soldier who came in and announced the Field Marshall will soon be arriving.
“Nice man, is he?” he asked but was only met by the other soldiers preparing to shoot. “We’ll soon see”, he muttered to himself and as a series of footsteps echoed from outside the soldiers lowered their guns and upon their captain’s orders snapped to attention. The door at the far end of the room swung open and the Doctor immediately froze in fear and amazement. The Field Marshall dismissed the captain and his men leaving the two men alone before pacing around the room and gazing gleefully at the disturbed look on the Doctor’s face. “You seemed shocked Lord Stapleforth”, he announced in an authoritative voice, “Although I know that’s not your real name, I dispatched the real Lord Stapleforth some fifty years ago, along with the rest of those petty annoying dignitaries back at the party. I must compliment you Doctor you’ve aged well, you barely look a day older than the time we last met.” “Nor you”, the Time Lord muttered darkly and gazed again as the man before him, who had aged not a jolt since the party that night in 1875, poured himself a drink. “Doctor Agory I presume”, he quipped without a smile and watched as he sipped his drink and chuckled.
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Post by Dominic Smith on Jul 20, 2006 5:50:59 GMT -5
I've re-written Chapter Six, I wasn't too keen on my original draft so here's the new version I hope you like it.
Chapter Six
Sarah had sat amidst the uneasy silence for some time, as the eyes of the other guests began to stare accusingly at each other. She stared around again for what must have been the one-hundredth time at the decor of the room whilst she sat with a wine glass held at arms length, settling it down on her knees. She had no desire to drink it, she was sick of the taste already but it seemed polite to take any glass that was offered, if only to ensure the atmosphere didn’t sink any further down into the depths of despair.
It seemed like an hour had passed before the brooding Lord Illington broke the silence with an impatient voice, gruff and commanding. “For gods sake, how long will those damned police take?” He stood up and slammed down his glass onto the table, narrowly avoiding shattering it to pieces. “Better check there’s been no reply.” He stormed out ranting under his breath and trying not to give away his obvious anger by slamming the door as he went and as he departed it seemed that there was a more relaxed atmosphere that washed over the rest of the guests, but it was not to last.
“So, young Cynthia”, Lord Baskrington half announced to Sarah as he lay back in his chair, watched tentatively by Lady Illington, “Take yourself as a bit of a detective do you?” Sarah was more than slightly taken aback and drew herself up in her chair, almost forgetting the guests still believed her to be Lady Cynthia Stapleton “What makes you say that?” “Well you seem to like asking a lot of questions, hardly the women’s way is it?” he scoffed and drank deeply from his glass. “Indeed”, added Doctor Agory from the corner of the room once occupied faithfully by Jacques Hubert. “There’s nothing wrong with a little curiosity”, she muttered, still flustered by his forwardness. “Let’s hope you’re not a cat lover”, Lord Baskrington almost accused before downing the rest of his glass and striding out into the corridor outside. The remaining three guests looked at each other with no great concern on any part other than Sarah’s and Lady Illington followed him at a trot.
“You can hardly expect him to be all cheers and smiles Miss Stapleforth, he has just lost his wife”, Agory said with great ease, almost slurring his words as the copious amounts of wine he had drunk began to take their toll. “He seems to be getting on well enough with Lady Illington”, Sarah observed watching her disappear off into the distance. “Sometimes we all need the company of a good woman”, Agory reasoned again. “Even if she’s a bit curious?” Sarah added and got to her feet to stretch her legs. “You forget these values Miss Stapleforth, etiquette is very important here.” Sarah pondered his rather strange choice of words but dismissed them as another of his little attempts to play on her mind, as he had done before in his description of the painting on hell. “Well Miss Stapleforth…” “Lady”, Sarah said rather firmly. “I beg you’re pardon?” “My name, Doctor Agory, is Lady Stapleforth”. “Oh course”, he nodded to her and then began again. “Well Lady Stapleforth”, he put sarcastic over-pronunciation on his second word, “I’m afraid I must bid you leave for a few minutes, we must all answer to the call of nature.” He put down the glass of brandy we was holding and walked out into the grand entrance hall towards the staircase, leaving Sarah alone to sigh in tiredness, both in physical wariness and boredom of the so called-party, attendance at which now seemed a chore because of some of little investigations. She’d really put her foot in it this time.
In the distance she could hear a lyrical giggling, it sounded like Lady Stapleforth and as a manly chuckle followed Sarah turned to see if Lord Illington or Doctor Agory were on their way back. Seeing the coat clear she too placed her glass down on a nearby table she looked around one last time and prepared to make her way outside.
***
The Doctor placed the calendar back in the cupboard and closed the doors before stopping momentarily to ponder what he had just seen, it was 1924 and Britain was at war. He returned to the un-boarded window and glanced out at the busy soldiers, building sandbag defences and handing out arms in preparation for a feared attack.
There came from the skies the roar of an engine and amidst the racket a giant plane flew overhead, it’s bodywork emblazed with the Union Jack, only over the top of the flag was a giant snake, looped to eating it’s own tail. “Ouroboros”, the Doctor muttered then returned to pacing down the clinically white corridor, unaware that outside one of the soldiers had seen him through the window and was warning his superior officer. He returned back down the staircase, past the painting of hell with the man cheating death and cautiously entered the lounge where nearly fifty years ago he had sat with Sarah and sipped champagne. The room was bare now; the paintings and etchings had gone and were replaced with large maps of the world, from hundreds of years ago to the present day. The walls, as with the rest of the house, had been painted white and all of the ornate furniture had been replaced with hardwearing metallic structures. He slowly began to wonder where Sarah was now. Of course he would return to 1875 to fetch her but at the moment she would have been left at the party, with a murderer on the loose and nothing to defend herself with.
Suddenly, from outside in the grand entrance hall there came an echoing clattering of boots, heading right towards him towards him. Realising someone must have spotted him through the window he ran for cover, pelting through the corridors leading out of the opposite side of the room, which only hours ago he had run along to find the body of Lady Baskrington. He managed to find another staircase revealed to him by an open door. He ran up them like the clappers, recognising the corridor he had emerged in as the long circuit, which ran around the outer perimeter of the house. He ran along, glancing back over his shoulder as the clattering of boots proceeded up the staircase he had just ascended. He turned around a corner and stopped briefly to catch his breath before setting off again, passing the store cupboard containing the calendar and the un-boarded window facing out into the courtyard. He turned another corner and once again glanced over his shoulder to see if he was still being pursued, but it was a mistake he would come to regret.
Waiting for him around the corner was another troop of soldiers. The first elbowed him in the stomach and he went down, falling to the floor bent over as the soldiers readied their guns and advanced to pick him up.
***
Sarah made her way back along the maze of corridors and emerged at the large French doors, which hung open allowing the crisp night air to waft inside the stately home. She took an uneasy step outside and let the summer breeze wash through her. She peaked around the doorframe to where she could see, sat on the very bench his wife had been found dead, was Lord Baskrington. In his arms hung Lady Illington, smothering him in kisses whilst stroking his face and hair.
Sarah looked for a second and drew breath unsteadily, it was obvious from the way the two had behaved back at the party that there was something between them, but the nerve of Lord Baskrington to flirt with another woman so soon after his wife was murdered; she was still lying alone in one of the rooms upstairs awaiting the police or the ambulance to come and take her away.
“They say some men need the love of a good woman”, she announced as she stepped fully through the doorway and into the garden of fragrant flowers, “Although this is rather taking the biscuit.” “How dare you poke around in my private affairs”, Lord Baskrington sneered as he stood up, Lady Illington doing the same with an embarrassed frown. “That’s nowhere near as much as what she’s poking”, thought Sarah to herself before saying, “I think it’s more a case of How dare you, Lord Baskrington. You see…” she began her moral monologue, a trait she seemed to have picked up from the Doctor, but something in the corner of her eye made her stop in mid sentence. “Oh. My. God”, she stuttered and began to run down the garden, leaving Lord Baskrington and Lady Illington to stare on dumbfounded and adjust their dishevelled clothes.
She had seen a shadowy figure kneeling down on the ground near the end of the garden and as it had straightened up and seen them it had begun to run. Sarah was soon taking chase but her rather clumsy slipper-shoes had hindered her advance, slipping on some of the more moist patches of the uneven ground. She could only look on as the figure flew over the wall at the bottom of the garden off into the woodland beyond, and sighed, putting her hands to her face. She turned to leave, back to the increasingly un-cooperative Lord Baskrington but something caught her eye, a shimmer in the darkness of the ground in the depths of the night. She knelt down and brushed away some of the grass and twigs that were covering it and found it was a large silver box. Slowly and cautiously she lifted the lid and as Lord Baskrington joined her in a blaze of anger at her comments before she had run off, she gasped at what was inside; a series of empty silver needles but four fully charged, filled with a glowing green serum.
***
“I do love the summer”, the Doctor chattered. He was sat in a chair surrounded by soldiers in what appeared to be the nerve centre of the operations that were being held in the house. “Such wonderful heat”, he continued as the soldiers stared coldly at him, guns raised. “Well weather isn’t everyone’s optimum conversation”, he pondered, looking around at the giant strategy board that proved the centre of the room. Models of tanks and tiny men stood across the map of the entire world and all over the walls of the room were plastered reports and top secret strategies, weapons of destruction in all but name.
The Time Lord sighed and began to whistle a jaunty tune but when one of the soldiers released the safety catch on his rifle, aimed at his forehead, he was soon silent. As he looked around again another soldier came into the room and announced that the Field Marshall will soon be arriving to interrogate the intruder “Nice man, is he?” the Doctor asked but was only met by the other soldiers preparing to shoot. “We’ll soon see”, he muttered to himself and as a series of footsteps echoed from outside the soldiers lowered their guns and upon their captain’s orders snapped to attention. The door at the far end of the room swung open and the Doctor immediately froze in fear and amazement at the sight of the man who walked into the room. The Field Marshall dismissed the captain and his men, leaving he alone with the Doctor. He paced around the room for a few seconds, gazing gleefully at the disturbed look on the Doctor’s face.
“You seemed shocked Lord Stapleforth”, he announced in an authoritative voice but with the twist of a bitter almost sarcastic tone, “Although I really should tell you that I know that’s not your real name, I dispatched the real Lord Stapleforth some fifty years ago, along with the rest of those petty annoying dignitaries back at the party. I overheard your little friend mentioning your real name some time after you left the party. I must compliment you Doctor, you’ve aged well, you barely look a day older than the time we last met.” “Nor you”, the Time Lord muttered darkly and gazed again as the man before him, who had aged not a jolt since the party that night in 1875, poured himself a drink. “Doctor Agory I presume”, he quipped without a smile and watched as he sipped his drink and chuckled.
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Post by Dominic Smith on Jul 20, 2006 15:03:13 GMT -5
Chapter Seven
Lady Illington had reacted to the box as if it were a bomb, yelping and throwing herself into Lord Baskrington’s arms. Clutching her e asked what the object was but Sarah had neither the patience more the wish to tell him. “Something I think Lord Illington needs to see”, she said cryptically before getting up from crouching on the damp ground. As she got up Lord Baskrington made a move to grab the box but Sarah pulled it away from his grasp, smiling slightly and looking towards Lady Illington as if to say “she could do with your attention.”
She made her way up to the house and back through the corridors, a confidence in her stride as Lord Baskrington assured Lady Illington all was well and with her clasping round his chest they slowly walked inside. When they emerged in the lounge Lord Illington was pacing the room, calmer than he had been moments earlier. “No news on your messages?” enquired Sarah, her confidence slipping with trepidation that he might explode again. “No, no”, he sighed with weakness cracking his usual stern tones, “nothing yet my dear.” “Never mind, there should be something soon”, she said in a pitying tone to which he nodded. “I’ve found something I think you should look at Lord Illington”, she said with more confidence and extended the silver box towards him. He took it with an uneasy hand. Slowly he too off the lid and looked at the needles inside. He took out one of the empty ones and examined it in the light of the room. “I don’t understand”, he said quietly, replacing the needle and closing the box. “Lord Illington, those needles contain some sort of chemical, I don’t know what but I doubt it’s instantly recognisable to and scientist. Those needles were used to kill Oscar Harrison, Jacques Herbert and Jennifer Baskrington.”
“What do you mean?” came a voice from behind her. It was Lord Baskrington, now firmly away from Lady Illington so as not to arouse suspicion in her husband. “The chemical they contain attacks the cells of skin and muscle fibre around the human neck. They collapse the windpipe and bruise the skin around it, giving the effect of strangulation.” Lord Illington stuttered for a moment, trying to take it all in. “I don’t believe it”, he concluded at last. “If you examine any of those bodies you will see a tiny puncture mark at the base of the neck where the needle went in”, Sarah continued and the next look on Lord Illington’s face seemed to imply he believed what she had said. “And how do you know so much?” enquired Lord Baskrington. “The Doc…Lord Stapleforth told me”, she replied cursing under her breath that she has nearly blown her and the Doctor’s cover. “And on what authority does he act?” “One you wouldn’t believe”, she replied trying to sound more confident than she actually was. “No wonder he took off then.” “I beg you’re pardon”, she said in shock. “Well it’s obvious he’s the murderer, all this is just an elaborate double bluff to put us off the scent.” “You seem very eager to make sure someone else takes the blame”, Sarah retorted and soon enough they were at each other’s throats.
All the while Lord Illington examined the box in his hands, rubbing off some of the dirt and grime that covered it and gasping at what he saw beneath. Hearing this Sarah turned to him and walked to join him by his side. He did not need to explain however because what he had seen was clearly self-explanatory. Engraved on the lid of the silver case were the initials of its presumable owner. The three letters tore into Sarah’s soul as she realised instantly what it meant. On the lid were engraved the letters D.I.A “Doctor Ian Agory”, Sarah realised and as she spoke the door into the entrance hall opened and Doctor Agory stepped in. “Very astute Miss Stapleforth. Although very stupid.”
***
The Doctor simply stared at Agory for some time as he sipped his drink, his youthfully tight skin and lush flowing brown hair as pristine as it had been all those years ago. He was dressed in a fierce looking military uniform decorated in medals, his shoes were shined and his clothes were ironed without a crease. Agory walked around the chair in which the Doctor sat and mused at his predicament. “Why not get up Doctor, try and escape there’s nothing stopping you.” “Only the pistol concealed in your jacket and a troop of soldiers waiting on the other side of that door”, he muttered coldly. “Ah you have a wide experience of these matters”, he smiled. “Not exactly by choice but nevertheless I’ve had my share”, he replied.
“Well you must be wondering what is going on my dear chap, must be rather intriguing seeing Britain at war in 1924.” “I was a little inquisitive to say the least”, the Doctor lied. “Well let me bring you up to speed”, Agory said before leaning on the giant manoeuvres table. “Since France declared war on Britain trench warfare has stretched across France and Belgium, the USA has invaded Australia after a slur was made on their government and the whole of the southern part of the country is a giant battlefield. Asia has spawned weapons factories for every major power and after a particularly vicious attack on Germany by Italy the Germans have joined forces with the Russians and the Spaniards and launched a three-sided attack.” “You know that’s not what I want you to explain”, the Doctor said sternly. “Really?” joked Agory as he smiled again, sipping his drink once more.
***
“You killed her”, Lord Baskrington almost whispered as Agory closed the door behind him. “ Well technically I killed them, Walter, there are more than one corpse lying upstairs, and two more at the bottom of the nearby lake”, he said turning to Sarah as he uttered the last few words. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Sarah asked with a quiver in her voice. “Well my dear I was under the impression I had dispatched the real Lord and Lady Stapleforth before they arrived here tonight, but it seems I was wrong”.
“You’re not Lady Stapleforth?” asked Lord Baskrington in astonishment. “No, my name is Sarah Jane Smith. My friend is known as the Doctor”, she admitted still scared to speak too loudly. “Indeed”, Agory pondered before pouring himself a drink. “So how did you do it?” Sarah blurted out not quite believing what she was saying. “Each murder you mean?” Agory asked but did not wait for a reply. “Well as I say Lord and Lady Stapleforth’s coach was driven by an old friend of mine. All it took was a time and place, they didn’t put up much of a struggle”, he said coolly and confidently. “Oscar Harrison I took care of a few hours after, creeping up through a window unlocked by a little accomplice of mine. I killed him ran off and prepared myself in the coach Lord and Lady Stapleforth had kindly left behind before strolling through the front door.” Lord Illington looked on coldly as he remembered the arrival of the Doctor along with Jacques Hubert; there was something so familiar about it he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. “And then there was Lady Baskrington”, he said confidently as he looked over at her husband. “I waited until Lord Illington went outside to smoke his cigar donned my disguise and administered her prescription. Jacques Hubert was admittedly a spur of the moment but nevertheless another step forward.” “But why?” asked Lady Illington but all he did was smile and drink.
“It was you in the garden”, Sarah muttered, “concealing the evidence.” “Not exactly”, he said lyrically, “My accomplice did all of those little chores, got rid of bodies like dear old Jacques, hid clothes and evidence, opened windows and covered traces.” “What accomplice?” asked Lord Illington but he was cut off as the door opened again and Jeeves strolled inside. “Jeeves, you must send a message to the police immediately”, he began but Agory interrupted him. “I’m afraid my dear Lord Illington you’ve asked the wrong man”, he announced as Jeeves walked to stand at his side.
“Jeeves? It can’t be...” Illington continued but lost his voice as the realism sank in. “Yes, dear Jeeves has been of great use, he got me into the house to kill Oscar and hid the body of Jacques. He made sure my disguise was easy enough to find and hid the needles each time in a new place encase they were found, although it seems the plan was not full-proof.” He glanced again at Sarah. “So each time you found the opportunity to kill someone, for whatever reason it was,” Sarah summarised, “You alert him and he gets your disguise and the needles, you do the deed and then he goes off to conceal the evidence?"
“Just about, of course with Jacques I had no time with the disguise but yes Jeeves was my cover man, and a damned fine job he did to.” There was a pause as Agory downed his glass and placed it on a table. “And now all of that’s over I should like my box back if you’d be so kind.” He extended his hand to Lord Illington, who took a step back. “Very well”, Agory sighed. He lunged forward and snatched the box, rapidly taking one out with ease and aiming it at the advancing Lord Illington. The rest of the guests took a step back as he waved the fully loaded syringe at them. “Now”, he said with a touch of menace, “Who’s next?”
***
The Doctor still sat in his chair, his back almost starting to ache as the hard back etched into his back. “So are you going to enlighten me Doctor Agory?” he asked opening his tired eyes wide and fixing him with a stare. “What…oh of course”, he replied finishing his drink. “Well it’s rather simple you see Doctor, the thing is I’m not like most men you might find in the street.” “Oh really?” “Yes…I’m immortal, you see”, and a smile spread across his face.
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Post by Dominic Smith on Jul 23, 2006 8:09:43 GMT -5
Took a while to write this one because I wasn't happy with the original draft, nevertheless here it is; chapter eight.
Chapter Eight
Sarah had nothing left to say. The red-hot fear began to flood through her veins as Doctor Agory looked on in a quiet lust or awe, transfixed on the green serum contained in the shining silver needle. Behind her Lord Baskrington was struggling to open the door that lead the scenic route to the garden, tugging and hammering at the door knob in desperation.
“I think you’ll find that my dear friend Jeeves locked that shortly after you arrived back from the garden”, Agory said absently, glaring once more at the green glow dancing in front of him before letting the needle follow his arm down to his side. “And seeing as I’ve got you all trapped in one room it seems having an assistant is rather superfluous, especially a failure.” At lightening speed he lunged at the smirking Jeeves and embedded the needle in his weedy neck. As Lady Illington screamed in horror the butler screamed out. “No master…no, please…please I couldn’t…the girl…she took me by surprise…aaargh” he pleaded and screamed but Agory had no sympathy. A stern look, almost one of disgust at the man before him was etched on his face as he let his comrade fall to the floor. He let him slide off of the long needlepoint, collapsing to the floor before watching with the others as the strangulation marks slowly formed on his neck. Agory looked again at the now empty needle and then ran his finger over the sharp point smeared in blood and serum. Sarah looked on, already sick at what had just happened but a knot formed in her stomach as the serum seemed to absorb into Agory’s perfectly tight skin. He sighed in relief as the needle became cleansed and the body of Jeeves lay there in quiet terror.
***
“I don’t believe you”, the Doctor said sternly as Agory finished smiling and took to walking around the room again. “I doubted you would”, came his reply, “You have a very closed mind, and fool can see that.” “Immortality is impossible”, the Time Lord said, “True there are some creature that could outlast entire galaxies but nothing lasts forever.” “Until I came along”, Agory mused, one of his twisted smiles spreading across hansom face. “So what makes you think you’re immortal?” “What makes you think I’m not? I never age surely even you can see that, it’s fifty years since we last met. I feel no lasting pain beyond initial shock, what else would you put it down to my dear fellow?” “Well I suppose there are many things”, he began, taking a deep breath as he trawled through his memories, “alien possession, some kind of extra-terrestrial virus…” he reeled off. “DNA mutation”, Agory concluded lyrically. “From where?” the Doctor almost mused along with his captor. “I’m a scientist Doctor, I experiment. It seems like yesterday that it all happened.” “I know the feeling”, the Doctor raised his eyebrows and stared at the floor.
“It was the summer of 1765, I’d started looking into preservation of matter, the use of chemicals to extend a life-span.” He smiled, as the Doctor seemed to twig how the story would end. “Much to my then dismay I triggered a reaction that caused a minor explosion. I was exposed to the raw products of the process and I fell unconscious. I awoke some time later and to my utter astonishment found the chemicals had absorbed into my skin.” “You ran out of the room because of sheer dismay and on your way you hurt yourself; snagged your finger on a splinter in a doorframe or something and moments later the pain and wound was gone”, the Doctor half-guessed. “Indeed”, Agory confirmed, “I thought it was a one off but after a rather nasty accident including an angry client from my local practise who wasn’t accustomed to taking bad news well and a rusty bread knife I had my suspicions confirmed.” “And the serum you used to kill the guests at the party?” “A side effect of the reaction. My laboratory was covered in the stuff. My cleaning lady tried to mop up some of the mess left all over the walls and sure enough when it infected a cut on her finger she ended up somewhat…winded”, he grinned widely at his quip but the Doctor showed no sign of amusement. “So where does the war fit in with all of this, and why are you involved?” he asked darkly, glancing deep in Agory’s sparkling eyes. “Ah, well that Doctor, that is my masterpiece.”
***
“You blaggard”, Lord Illington exploded as Jeeves’ wounds ripened and Agory looked at him in distaste. Lord Baskrington and Lady Illington continued to struggle with the locked door despite the fact they seemed to realise it was of no use, the only other way out being behind the armed Agory and the window locked. Sarah simply stood without a clue as to what to do, the Doctor had gone and she had no idea what to do. “Sticks and stones, Frederick”, Agory said with a broad grin. “But I’m afraid this is as far as it goes for the rest of you. My own plans wait for me and I’ve waited for a long time to set them in motion. The time is ripe for the world to find its new saviour through tragedy. My destiny…” He tailed off as he looked longingly at the silver box he had produced from inside of his jacket; replacing the empty needle he had used on Jeeves and taking out another, fully loaded one. “Any volunteers?”
***
“They were all key government officials”, Agory said of the guests at the party, “well most of them. They had the power to influence the government into any decision.” “Lady Baskrington wasn’t”, the Doctor noted. “No sense in leaving one behind with the grief of her dead husband.” “How thoughtful of you”, the Doctor muttered hollowly. “Anyway, with them out of the way the government would be in disarray and with me left as the most influential government advisor around I could get them doing anything that took my fancy.” “Oh, all this was more than a passing thought surely?” the Time Lord said looking around at the many battle plans stored away in volumous filing cabinets and giant maps lining the walls. “When you’ve had as long as I have to ponder”, Agory said, “You got the time to plan things rather thoroughly”. “Your plan being?”
Agory smiled, “Once those pompous, stuck-up idiots had been taken care of I called for the police. Such a shame Lord Illington’s message never got there.” He smiled again and picked up a sealed envelope on his desk, stroking it with his fingers. “I managed to make it look like there had been a struggle and I had been attacked and left for dead. They swallowed it hook, line and sinker then I returned to London and after some enquiries went back to my practise.” “And then?” “I saw how far I could push the government, got myself appointed as key advisor and then made my way abroad to France. Of course they didn’t know, I stowed away on a ship and when I arrived managed to dig up some dirt on one of the major politicians who had a record for his short and violent temper…” “Then planted evidence implying he had killed those people, returned to England to report it and get the government to interrogate him, they arrest him France lashes out and you arrange for war to be declared”.
“Top marks Doctor, it’s amazing what a few items of stolen jewellery can lead to. And now the countries of the world are poised to bring each other to the point of poverty and all the while I’m safe here.” “But you put up the barricades up outside to be sure?” “Ah well supposing someone finds out my little secret Doctor, the time for that isn’t quite ripe yet.” “And when will it be? When the world is reduced to rubble and it’s people living in squalor?” “Exactly my dear fellow”, Agory almost cried with excitement, “And who will be left to pick up the pieces, the strongest one left to lead the rest back to glory? Me.” “You’ve got it wrong”, the Doctor said in a hint of disbelief, “You really think after this carnage anyone will trust you?” “They’ll have no choice Doctor, no-one else will have the authority any more.” “You underestimate the human race Doctor Agory, in times of trouble they will not forget. They’ll help each other return to glory, not turn to someone they know will betray them.” “But I won’t betray them Doctor, I’ll give them a good life, let them lead a prosperous existence only with me as their leader.” “Then why go through all of this? Why destroy an entire civilization just to rule something? Why not just murder your way up the chain of command?” he uttered the last with a bitter tone. “Because sometimes murder is not enough, there are too many officials waiting to take command when another is gone, this way I get rid of them all and make myself a starting platform to power.”
“Why?” the Doctor almost pleaded to know, “Why do it, why go through all of this just to stand there in a uniform and look important, just to order people around and write a title before your name?” “I could craft the world as I want it Doctor, make people bow down to me and have everyone envy me.” “Egocentric twaddle!” the Doctor burst out, “of all the utterly stupid things…!” “Don’t you dare undermine me Doctor!” Agory yelled, his Cheshire cat smile fading from his face. “You think I’ll fail like all those who try but I am immortal, I’ll stand in the face of every last piece of scum who dares to challenge me and watch them squirm at my might, not even you can stop me Doctor, or your petty little friend!”
“That’s where you’re wrong Doctor Agory, she’ll stop you. Your timeline hangs in the balance even at this very moment and back in that house, all those years ago Sarah will be fighting. She’ll find a way you mark my words all of this “, he beckoned around the room, “will be gone. By the time she’s found a way you’ll live to regret it and history will be as it should be, and all you’ll be remembered as will be a man with ideas far above his station.” “Oh no Doctor, I think you’ll find that’s where you are wrong.” And his smile returned.
***
Lord Illington lunged forward as Agory momentarily paused to make a move to put the box back in his jacket pocket. He failed to knock him from his feet but instead knocked the box from his hand. It flew across the room and the needle Agory followed suit when Illington banged his hand on the hard wood-panelled wall. Agory gasped a Illington reached for his throat and soon a struggle was in full swing, tables were upturned and glasses were smashed as Sarah ran to join Lord Baskrington and Lady Illington at the locked door. “It’s no good, it’s jammed”, Lord Baskrington yelled above the noise of the struggle. “Locked isn’t a problem, I like locked”, she half joked, taking a hairpin from her hair and kneeling down to get a good look at the keyhole. She jammed it inside and immediately set to work bending the thin bit of metal to match the outline of the key that would have slid perfectly into the lock.
“For goodness sake hurry”, cried Lady Illington, “He’ll kill Frederick”. “Nice to know you still care about him then”, Sarah muttered under her breath and Lord Baskrington frowned, a dark look upon his face. Suddenly there was a click in the lock and Sarah looked astounded at the keyhole. Lord Baskrington clawed her out of the way and threw the door open, almost flinging it into her head. She ducked and as Lady Illington followed Lord Baskrington out into the corridor beyond Lord Illington planted a punch on Doctor Agory that sent him flying into another table. He joined the awaiting Sarah and smiled at her. “That ought to leave a scar”, he grinned and Sarah let out a gasp of exhaustion, catching her breath and then letting him clasp her hand before leading her out into the corridor.
Over the other side of the room, as the others turned away Agory got up and nursed a cut on his lip. Stroking it and looking over at the door with a look of boredom, he felt it heal and then bent down to pick up the fallen box of needles. Finding the instruments undamaged and the one he had taken out merely fractured, but still whole, he picked it up adjusted his cuffs and ran out, placing the box in his jacket and the other needle clasped in his hand. ***
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the Doctor asked, being knocked from his perch by the implications of Agory’s words that lingered in his speech. “So high up on your perch Doctor, lording it over everyone because you think you’re so untouchable”, there was a severe bitter tone in his voice now which gave way to a joyous thought, relishing seeing the Doctor squirm. “Yet like everyone you have a weakness…love. That silly little girl of yours…” “Her name is Sarah”, the Doctor said sternly, “And if you hurt her back then in the house…” “Oh I did more than that Doctor”, Agory’s smile seemed bigger and more sinister than ever, almost sadistic, “Back then, all those years ago in that house…that was the night I killed her…”
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Post by Dominic Smith on Jul 25, 2006 12:00:29 GMT -5
Chapter Nine
“What?” the Doctor was stunned and muttered his reply in almost silence. He collapsed, loosing all of the tension in his body and letting his arms fall to his side and his legs to spread out before him as he sat in the chair in the middle of the room, from which he had not mover since his arrival. “I killed her Doctor”, Agory said again, his smile had faded but there still remained a glimmer of delight as he watched the Doctor, perching himself on his desk.
“I don’t…you can’t, she…” the Doctor tried to string a sentence together but it was no good. He stared down into the floor, trying to process the information in his head. “I advise that you don’t try and disbelieve it Doctor, it’s easier to take in if you just take the information as it comes”, Agory touted with a hint of boredom. The Doctor looked up and glared at him with a look that could stop a tidal wave, before letting his head droop down to his chest.
He could see her smiling face glowing in his minds eye. Her beautiful face he had grown used to for so long. He remembered the first time they ever met and her feisty attitude that made him love her so, admire her for her strength of character. He could recall the many adventures they had spent together; the threat of the dinosaurs in modern-day London, the spiders and the Buddhist monks that made him change before her eyes. He could see their time on Earth with the Brigadier and Harry, dear Harry, and then off into the furthest reaches of time and space; to war-torn Skaro and the planet of gold, the pyramids of Mars and the lair of Morbius, an through it all they had stuck together, always pulled through to the end and laughed their way to new adventures. Yet now it was not to be. She was dead and gone, along with the rest of the guests. That smiling face had gone and he’d never see her again. What would he do now? Did she have any family he’d have to tell? He’d never thought to ask.
As Agory sat in silence on his desk the Doctor sighed and wiped the gathering water from his eyes. He lifted his head and looked over at the man sat on the large wooden table. “You…” his voice choked up again but this time it was not from sorrow, it was from realisation, from hope. “The timeline’s unstable”, he muttered, “you might think you killed her but time is in constant flux, she can re-write her own history in a second.” Agory clicked his tongue and let his head fall back so he was staring up at the ceiling. “Wrong again Doctor, there was no escape for her. Believe me I am thorough in my work, I do not make mistakes.”
“Prove it”, the Doctor challenged, still seated in his chair only now leaning forward towards Agory, who thought for a second then snapped his head back to look menacingly at the Time Lord. “Very well. If I didn’t kill her Doctor, how could it be…” he paused as he leaned over the table and opened one of the heavy draws. He took something out and slowly pushed it shut again. “…that I have this?” he lifted his arm to reveal what was in his hand. “That’s Sarah’s”, the Doctor said in a whisper, his eyes filling up again. Sure enough in Agory’s hand, dangling and glistening in the sunlight was a small loop of lace studded with threads of pure silver. It was an anklet he had brought for her some time ago on an alien market somewhere in the Dendallite galaxy. She had put it on shortly before they arrived at the manor, and now here it was, fifty years later in the hands of Doctor Agory.
“Charming little trinket”, Agory pondered as the sun shone on the tiny ring of metal fibres, “such a shame it’s been so long since it saw the true light of day.” He clasped it in his hand and let his arm drop to his side. Again the Doctor mouthed silently, searching for something to say, until once again a thought struck him. “You’re bluffing”, he said, a faint glimmer of a smile appearing across his face, as if thinking he had got the other hand. Agory looked down at his clenched fist that contained the anklet then looked the Doctor straight in the eye. “You think so?”
***
Sarah had no idea what she was going to do. Along with Lord Baskrington and Lord and Lady Illington she had run out of the room and back along the maze of corridors that led towards the garden. “What’ll we do”, cried Lady Illington in sheer terror. “Get out into the open”, Lord Baskrington replied, “Try and get far enough away.” “Where to? I thought we were in the middle of nowhere”, panted Sarah, glancing behind her to see a blurry figure moving in the lengthening distance.
“There’s room enough in the woodlands beyond the parameter of the garden to hide, enough cover to make it out onto the open road, there’s bound to be someone about.” Lord Illington replied, following her gaze over his shoulder. “What makes you think he hasn’t done a scout around out there already?” “You’ve got a point young lady”, he continued, and gave Lord Baskrington a chance to ask a burning question. “So if you’re not Lady Stapleforth, who are you?” “As I said before, my name is Sarah Jane Smith”, Sarah panted, as the group arrived at another locked door. “Jeeves”, she realised and then knelt down and set to work with her hairpin. “Well where do you come from?” Baskrington continued. “I come from London, the Doctor comes from a place called Gallifrey.” “Never heard of it”, Baskrington scoffed. “Didn’t think you would”, Sarah replied and then stood up as the lock of the door clicked open. They continued on their way through and Sarah slammed the door shut after her, jamming in the hairpin and locking it, just as Agory arrived on the other side. She joined the others and continued their flight, but Baskrington had other questions. “What do you to do exactly?” “We travel.” “How very articulate”, he scoffed.
“There’s no time for that Walter”, Lord Illington snapped and the procession continued, until a thought struck him. “Hold on a moment”, he stopped dead in his tracks and set off up a staircase concealed behind a door. “I’ll meet you in the garden”, he shouted back and as the door they had just unlocked gave way, the others hurried off again. “What’s he doing?” asked Lady Illington breathlessly. “Let’s hope it’s not another message”, Sarah muttered as they continued their journey, ever closer to the garden.
***
The Doctor usually had quite a mild temper, but this was the last straw. He leaped forward from his chair and grabbed Agory by his army jacket and pulled him close to his face. “If you really are telling the truth”, he threatened then threw him back down to the desk, snatching up Sarah’s anklet in the process. Agory himself struggled for his revolver but he was too shaken by the sudden attack. He looked on as the door flew open ahead of the Doctor and the troop of guards, four in total, stormed in.
The Doctor was quick to react and grabbed one and threw him into another. They both collided with a wall and collapsed to the floor in a heap. The others had teir guns raised but the Doctor picked up a chair and smashed it around one of their heads. As the third soldier collapsed the fourth prepared to open fire but a thud to the back of the neck had him down on the ground with the others. Agory looked on in panic and astonishment and drew his pistol, but the Doctor was already away. He placed the pistol on the table and picked up a telephone on his desk. “Security? The Doctor is at large in the building, find him and secure him…kill him if you have to.”
***
Lord Illington ascended the staircase and ran along the rind corridor that surrounded the main part of the house. He arrived at a large room covered in paper; his study. He sifted through the sea of documents and files concerning the house itself and sighed as he gazed upon the financial reports, all covered in red ink that outlined the costs of renovating the tumbling down manor. He held back his feelings and reached over the main desk and fished through the draws; pulling out a pistol and a small box with oe single bullet. He loaded it and listened as an almighty crash rang out from downstairs. He looked one more at the pile of demands for payment and then swallowed hard, before running off to find the others.
***
The Doctor found himself once again in the ring corridor and set of at great speed around the first corner, trying to get back to the TARDIS. He could hear the thumping of boots as the soldiers pursued him. He kept on running along the vast clinically white hallway until he reached the next corner, around which stood the staircase that would lead back to the TARDIS. Ahead he could see a blurry movement that refined into a shadow, there were other soldiers around the corner.
He hurtled violently into one of the rooms leading off from the corridor and found himself in one of the makeshift bunkrooms. He flew straight across the room, past several bemused soldiers and then pelted through another door on the opposite door, into a library. He made his way across the vast chamber and again emerged in the ring corridor. He ran off towards the main staircase and slowly sneaked past the guard waiting to spring their trap on him when he turned the corner from the opposite direction.
Running down the staircase he bounded across the main hall, amidst the sound of the construction work outside; the clatter of metal the whir of lorries and rumble of tanks. He ran to the door of the small cupboard he had arrived in with a sigh of relief opened the door. His joy however was short lived, because inside the cupboard all was silent. The faint vibrations of the TARDIS were no more; the ship was gone.
***
“So what is in those needles he carries?” asked Lady Illington as she, Lord Baskrington and Sarah continued their escape, Doctor Agory not far behind. “It’s some kind of serum, an unknown chemical that collapses the windpipe, destroying the cells it’s mad up of and then bruising the others around it, it gives the appearance of strangulation”, Sarah explained between breaths, gulping for air. “The man’s a lunatic”, Lord Baskrington muttered as he continued running. “He also happens to be gaining on us”, Sarah panted, glancing behind her shoulder to see Agory gaining on them fast. Ahead of her she could see the large French doors that led to the garden, the way out of the house. As a smile cracked across her face as she felt a sudden tugging on her leg. Down near her foot. Suddenly she was hurtling towards the ground, just having time to break her own fall. She called out to Lord Baskrington to help and he approached, leaving Lady Illington moments away from the doors leading to the garden.
He reached forward, taking her hand and she sighed a grateful thank you, before realising what he was doing. He wrenched open her hand and took from her the hair pin she had used to pick the locks of the closed doors. She yelled for him to help again but he took off, dragging the frantic Lady Illington with him. As they escaped through the doors and out into the garden, Sarah tried to get up and find what was holding her back. She could see the ornate anklet the Doctor had given her snagged on a loose nail protruding from one of the floorboards. She tried to loosen it and just released it as a snarling grunt filled her ears. She looked up to see Doctor Agory standing over her, a loaded needle in his hand.
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Post by Dominic Smith on Jul 26, 2006 9:31:22 GMT -5
Chapter Ten
There seemed to be nothing left to do but panic. Sarah whimpered, as Agory loomed closer, the needle in his hand slowly making it’s way towards her neck. Suddenly, as Agory’s twisted smile grew across his face in victory, there rose within her some inexplicable pocket of courage, the kind she felt when the Doctor was by her side.
The foot that wasn’t snagged to the floor flew up towards the towering Agory and connected sharply with his stomach. He reeled back, winded, and began to cough as Sarah flexed her aching leg. She reached over and slipped the stuck anklet from her foot and tried to pick it up to place in her pocket, but Agory was already recovering and ready to make the next move.
Abandoning the trinket she ran off towards the French doors leading out to the garden, where she could just see the fleeing forms of Lord Baskrington and Lady Illington. As she approached a sturdy hand slammed into the door handle she was about to grasp. Following it’s connected arm she looked to see Lord Illington standing beside her, a pistol in his hand. They smiled at each other and each pushed opened one of the doors, letting the crisp night breeze wash over them as they stepped outside.
As Agory approached, having picked up Sarah’s fallen anklet and pocketed it, he ran to the double doors and tried to force them open, but the strength of Lord Illington was more than a match for him. Sarah hurried and dragged the heavy benches that lined the walls, jamming one up against the doors and with the help of Lord Illington, piled another on top of it, the back rest jammed under the flailing door handle. Again the two friends smiled at each other and then ran off into the dark of the night, illuminated by the lamps of the garden, following the traces of Lord Baskrington and Lady Illington.
***
The Doctor could hear the soldiers tearing down the main staircase and made a run for the lounge. Hurtling through with barely a second to think he found himself in the maze of corridors again, flinging open doors and trying not to upturn tables as he went.
He found himself back at the servant’s staircase and then ran back up to the first floor, where the ring corridor was now empty, the soldiers having cleared out downstairs to find him. He ran along, sick of the sight of the clinical walls that lined his way. Finally he arrived at the un-boarded window. Careful not to stand in full view he looked as the preparations continued, lorries of sandbags arriving and being piled up, more windows being covered with wood and sticky tape, and gun placements being rigged up pointing out at the country road passing the house.
As he looked around, more planes with the ouroboros emblem passing overhead to places unknown, he finally found what he was looking for. From a small courtyard concealed somewhere within the house itself, driving out to join the rest of the thronging ensemble there came another lorry. On the back was perched a crudely placed tarpaulin sheet that had failed to conceal what it was trying to hide; the TARDIS. The Doctor smiled in relief and mischievousness, before pelting off again to go and recover his ship.
***
Sarah scarcely had time to take in the beautiful fragrance of the flowers that lined the garden path she was running down with Lord Illington. The fully bloomed roses and ornate orchids perfumed the air and added to the haziness of the summer heat, which lashed them cruelly as they approached the boundary wall at the bottom of the stately manor. It was at least seven feet tall and made of tough sharpened stones. Lord Baskrington and Lady Illington were already there, Lady Illington making an attempt to scale the giant barrier as her fiancé supported her foot.
“Frederick dear fellow”, he said with a strained voice, “give me a hand would you?” Lord Illington looked at him with an air of silent curiosity and slight bitterness but nevertheless ran forward and supported his wife’s other foots, launching her onto the top where she perched for a second to catch her breath. “Now quickly my darl…Lady Illington, you must drop down onto the other side”, Lord Baskrington panted and as she disappeared out of sight with a squeal there came an almighty crash from the house.
Doctor Agory had thrown himself at the blocked doors several times until the second bench slipped and clattered to the floor, leaving only the first to be moved. He kicked at the doors one for time and the bench was propelled forward and he was free to get outside. He ran at full pelt down into the fragrant garden, only he was perfectly able to ignore the perfume without a second sniff of the nostrils. As he hurtled down towards the garden wall Lord Illington took hold of Sarah and started helping her over to the other side. “Walter, give me a hand”, he urged and after he gave Sarah a look that chilled her spine he helped hoist her over to the other side, before trying to scale it himself.
On the other side of the wall it was almost pitch dark, there was still the faint glow of the lamps from the garden and the moon gave a small illumination on the dense woodland that lay beyond but apart from that the darkness ruled all. Lady Illington looked more than a little disappointed when she saw Sarah was the next to climb over the wall and said nothing after Sarah asked if she was alright. She smiled amidst the tears as Lord Baskrington’s face appeared from over the stone barricade. “Walter my dearest…”
Sarah grimaced and offered to lend Lord Baskrington a hand but he declined. She sighed at his backwardness and looked to the stars, wishing the Doctor was still with her. Suddenly there came an scream and Lord Baskrington disappeared back behind the wall, his face frozen in terror. Sarah propelled herself up on the wall and peered over to the other side where Doctor Agory had arrived. Lord Illington clasped at his stomach and Lord Baskrington lay on the floor, the strangulation marks forming around his throat as his windpipe collapsed.
Agory withdrew the empty needle and replaced it inside the silver box engraved with his initials. He withdrew another, placed the box back in his jacket and turned to Lord Illington, but the dignitary was waiting for him. Having recovered from Agory’s attack he drew his pistol and aimed. Firing twice the bullets flew into Agory’s chest and he fell backwards onto a pile of cut grass and collected weeds, his eyes close. “Quick Lord Illington”, Sarah gasped, holding out a hand to him as he began his climb. He hoisted himself halfway and looked back at Agory, and what he and Sarah saw made their blood run cold.
Agory’s chest, once stained with blood, was cleaning itself. The deep red pool was evaporating back into the two wounds and as the last of it dried up the two entry holes where the bullets had pierced his chest filled with tissue and grew new skin. The charred skin that once lined the wounds crumbled away to dust and with a sickening force his eyelids snapped open. Sarah gasped and clamped her mouth shut to try and avoid being sick, as Lord Illington descended to the other side of the wall. “What happened to Walter?” sobbed Lady Illington as her husband joined her, Sarah close behind. “He joined his dear lady wife”, he replied before grasping Sarah’s arm and giving her a look as if to ask if she was alright. “I’m fine”, she muttered, “but I think we’d better get out of here.” “Never a truer word spoken”, Lord Illington gasped and then the three of them ran, off into the night and the woodland that awaited them as Doctor Agory clambered over the wall, his needle still poised to strike his next victim.
***
The Doctor ran back down the servant staircase and through to the lounge. He found the main hall deserted, the soldiers must have returned upstairs. He ran out into the courtyard and immediately every soldier turned to look at him. “Nice day”, he said, putting on a smile and raising a hand in a sort of salute. The soldiers looked around at each other, muttering in discussion. “I’m the health inspector, just making sure there’s no threats in the house, must look after the troops mustn’t we?” he smiled again and once more the soldiers looked around at each other. “So if you don’t mind I’ll be off.” He grinned once more, raised his hand and merrily made his way off across the yard, but his luck was not to last.
“That’s the Doctor”, there came a cry and together with the other soldiers he turned to see Agory standing at the un-boarded window. “Get him!” The soldiers immediately snapped to attention and loaded their guns. “Can’t win them all”, the Doctor smiled and ducked over to one of the abandoned sandbag placements. He placed his back up to the heavy wall and felt the vibrations as the gunfire started. He closed his eyes and tipped his head towards the pearl-blue blanket of sky. Realising the difficulty of his situation he struggled to think of what to do. He saw Sarah’s smiling face staring at him in his mind’s eye. Only this time something was different. Her smile was fading, her eyes were widening in terror and pain. As her lip began to quiver and her eyes filled with tears she suddenly screamed out in a blood-curdling tone that made his spine crumble. He fell to the floor and clenched his eyes shut as the picture of Sarah faded from view, and for once in his life he began to feel helpless, he wondered why he should carry on at all.
But then her image returned. Her face was determined, a hint of panic but determined all the same. She seemed to call out to him without saying a word, telling him to come and help, she needed him. As he opened his watery eyes he shared her determined look, his jaw was set in stone and his fists were clenched. She needed him. Forgetting what Agory said back in the office he took a deep breath, and prepared to step into the open.
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Post by Dominic Smith on Jul 29, 2006 7:19:15 GMT -5
Chapter Eleven
The sight was one he’d seen many times before. The gunfire had stopped as the soldiers re-loaded their guns, all the while keeping them pointed in his direction. He looked around to see that the yard was full of soldiers, crouching behind the other sandbag emplacements and hiding inside the house itself, rifles perched on the window ledges.
As he stood and looked around, making an almost poisonous eye contact with some of the soldiers a wave of unrest washed through the troops. They began to glance at each other, wondering what the man was doing to step straight out in front of them, unarmed. He stared at them, stone-faced with deep, watery eyes. Suddenly he plunged his hand into his pocket and pulled out a long cylindrical device, which he aimed at one of the sandbag mounds.
The device whirred and suddenly the emplacement exploded, spreading sand and scraps of Hessian across the yard, blinding the soldiers as they tried to see what was happening. The gunfire soon rose up again as one soldier caught a glimpse of the escaping man, running off towards the main gates. As the other soldiers followed suit the Doctor made his way over to where the lorry on which the TARDIS was perched had ground to a halt, only to find a gang of stumbling soldiers in his way. Deciding not to chance it encase they regained their sight and gunmanship he dodged through the billowing sand clouds across to the embankment he had just hid behind, wondering what to do next.
Suddenly two more soldiers approached him from the yellow haze and a thought struck him. He stepped forward and grabbed the back of their necks in his hands, squeezing them gently before letting them fall to the floor, stunned. “I haven’t tried that it years”, he almost mused, before checking each of the men had a pulse and fleeing off into the settling clouds. Pausing only to brush himself off he desperately scanned around for a safe place to hide and as the gunfire roared on he dived over to one of the tanks. He clambered up above the massive caterpillar tracks and onto the main bodywork, dodging around as the gunfire found him again. He clambered to the top of the giant vehicle and then plummeted down into the empty fountain, now filled with tools and maps, instruments for war. The main statue from which the water would usually have flown was secreted between more sandbags, which rippled as they were riddles with bullets, spraying more sand everywhere.
Thinking quickly the Time Lord dived down and spread himself across the floor of the fountain where he seemed impervious to the oncoming attacks. He looked around at the different objects lying around him, guns and grenades; not his style, maps and battle plans; no use to him at the moment, and finally a helmet; much more protective than his old hat but again not really his style, especially with several dozen bullet holes brandished into the side. He threw the metal headpiece down with the rest of the clutter until he found something of use; a large silver cigarette case. He opened it and emptied the contents to the floor before pocketing the case and rolling onto his stomach.
“What now?” he murmured before clasping eyes on the large metal helmet again. He picked it up, ran his fingers over the uneven surface and then brandished it as if it were a Frisbee. He threw it out of the fountain and across towards the main door of the house, watching for a split second as it drew the soldier’s gunfire. Then he clambered out of the fountain and over to a parked lorry, which he climbed inside and turned on. As the engine roared to life he accelerated forward and swerved to avoid the dumbfounded soldiers. Finally he collided with the lorry harbouring the TARDIS and clambered through the now shattered windscreen. Hunched over to try and dodge the throngs of bullets he reached the doors of the ship to try and get inside, but his heart plummeted with realisation. The TARDIS key was no longer dangling from his neck. It had been confiscated by Agory’s men when he arrived; it must still be in the planning room.
“Have you lost something?” came a sultry un-laboured voice from the doors of the house. Agory was standing on the grand doorstep, the key dangling from his fingers.
***
Sarah’s ears were throbbing; her pulse ricocheted round her head as she clambered through the dense, dark woodland, Lord Illington not far behind her. More than once she had ran full-pelt into a tree concealed by the night and fallen flat on her back, and more than once Lord Illington was there to help her up again. Lady Illington could be heard panting and screaming only metres away, and her husband was frequently having to dash off to make sure she was still running in the right direction. She had a tendency to get sidetracked, something which was not helping with Agory so close behind them.
“How large are these woods?” Sarah spluttered, a sour taste flooding her mouth as her lungs struggled to keep going. “Large enough to keep us occupied for at least another half an hour”, Lord Illington said from her side, his voice occasionally faded by a tree as they hurtled past it. “I don’t think I can take much more of this”, Sarah said, coghing as her foot slammed against a root and she nearly fell, correcting herself awkwardly and continuing on her way. “I could swear I hit that one at least five minutes ago”. She muttered and Lord Illington let out an exhausted splutter of laughter. “Frederick!” screeched Lady Illington from behind them. Lord Illington rushed off to find her leaving Sarah to run alone, “And she did that five minutes ago as well.”
As she ran she could see a glimmer of light ahead of her. A gap in the trees? Was the woodland thinning out at last? Was there someone over there who could help?” All these thoughts and hopes rushed through her head but were all dashed as she realised it was something she had hoped not to see again; Agory standing there waiting for her.
***
The gunfire halted again and the Doctor looked on at the gleaming Agory, still holding the key in his hand, letting the long slender chain slip between his fingers, his eyes entranced by the sun that shone off of the key itself. “Give that back to me”, the Doctor demanded, jumping down from the back of the truck. Clouds of sand were still washing across the yard and the soldiers stood aside as the Time Lord strode up to Agory, his eyes deep and solemn. “Oh but why, such a nice trinket, like your friend’s anklet, such a shame you had to steal it.” “It was never yours in the first place.” “The world is my oyster Doctor, and everything in it…” he let his voice tail off as the TARDIS key dangled in the sun, swinging as if hypnotising him. The Doctor strode forward further, now standing inches away on the step down from where Agory was. He held out his hand, placing it beneath the pendulant key. Agory slowly let it descend to touch his hand, the chain curling up into a pile of linkages as he lowered his arm. The Doctor made to snap his hand shut but Agory was too fast, and snatched it back, holding it high above his head.
“I don’t think so”, he said lyrically but was taken by surprised as the Doctor pounced. He grabbed hold of Agory’s jacket and swung him round so that his back was facing the soldiers. He grabbed the key and yanked it from his hand, Agory tried to snatch it back but the Time Lord grabbed his hand and twisted it back down to his side. Suddenly the gunfire erupted again and Agory shook as the bullets hit him, and as quickly as it had come the fire stopped as the soldiers realised what they had done. The Doctor looked on in silent horror as Agory’s smile twisted and he looked over his shoulder at the gaping maze of holes where the bullets had struck. Slowly the blood was absorbed from where it had come and the skin grew over the pierced muscles.
“Do you believe me now?” Agory asked and the Doctor looked at his face again. He was squirming as the regenerative process took place, the soldiers stunned by what they were seeing. The Doctor ran forward, throwing Agory to a pillar supporting the porch roof. As he ran down the alleyway of parted soldiers Agory called for his men to shoot at him but they were too awestruck by what they had just seen. One of them raised his rifle and opened fire, and soon the others were following suit, leaving Agory to be mown down. “You can’t stop me Doctor”, he cried as the Time Lord once again reached the TARDIS, “This army can’t stop me and neither can you…or you stupid little friend…”
The Doctor reached the TARIDS and unlocked the door, glancing back as Agory got to his feet, the bullets still firing. As the soldiers realised they were making no progress they began to flee and as a riot-like struggle to leave followed the Doctor closed the door behind him, leaving only an empty courtyard and Agory standing on the stone steps alone as the ship took off.
***
“Well my dear, alone once more”, Agory beamed as Sarah tried to back away, a tree blocking her path. “Although I must admit I’ve no time for pleasantries, there’s work to do.” Sarah panicked but as before in the corridor, there rose within her some unfounded courage, even stronger than before as if something was returning to her, someone, someone she needed more than anyone.
She threw herself forward and grabbed the arm Agory held his loaded needle with. She managed to back him against a tree and smashed his arm into the rough bark, forcing him to drop the instrument. Sarah tried to stamp on it but Agory twisted his leg around hers and brought her tumbling to the ground. Soon they were rolling around, Sarah slapping at Agory’s face and Agory resorting to actually strangling her. “No use wasting precious serum”, he muttered as he drover his hands into her windpipe. She finally struck a blow to his own windpipe and he spluttered, momentarily releasing his grip. She got up and snatched up and made to snatch the fallen needle but she was stopped when Lady Illington arrived, running forward to meet her.
She grabbed her by the arm and carried on into the woods, dragging her away from the needle. “We must get away”, she screamed and finally let go before fleeing off into the night, no doubt in the wrong direction. Sarah made again to go back and fetch the needle but this time Lord Illington was there, ready to drag her away. “But what about Agory”, she said, neglecting to struggle against his grasp.” “Don’t worry”, Lord Illington reassured her, “I gave him a kick for good measure.” And together they smiled.
***
As the central column of the console slid up and down the Doctor looked on in exhaustion. He took off his hat and beat it on his knee, dislodging the loose sand. He flung his arms across to beat the back of his coat, making himself look slightly more presentable. As he coughed and attended to some of the controls her set course for the manor, knowing full well it was unlikely he’d land exactly where he wanted to, although close enough would have to do.
Then, as before when the ship had taken him away from 1875, the flowing singing filled his head. He looked around trying to place where the sound was coming from, but it had no origin, it seemed to call out to him from every atom of the air, and it was fading already. As he looked back at the console he could fee something in the back of his mind urging him to reset the co-ordinates. Something seemed to tell him the manor was not where he was needed. The voice that sang to him from beyond eternity, told him where to go and sure enough, he followed.
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Post by Dominic Smith on Aug 1, 2006 6:34:21 GMT -5
Chapter Twelve
Sarah and Lord Illington were running almost hand in hand, through the woodland, almost gasping every time another tree zipped past. They seemed to develop a sixth sense as they jumped over arched roots rising from the ground and clambering over fallen trees. Sarah’s heartbeat was racing but having Lord Illington by her side seemed to give her the confidence to carry on. Lady Illington was never far behind but still managed to veer off in a completely different direction and had to have her husband emotionlessly drag her back to the right route.
Sarah knew it would not take an idiot to see that Lord Illington understood that his wife had cheated on him; the affection he had once gazed upon her with had completely gone from his eyes, and he barely said a word to her as he helped her continue on their retreat from Agory. Sarah had heard Agory himself get up from his attack and stumble to follow them to make sure his next attack would not fail. His feet bounded across the ground with great ease, as if he were an Olympic sprinter. His breath was un-ruptured from the chase but still the rattle of his lungs slithered down Sarah’s neck, as if trying to choke her. As Sarah tried to shake off the horrid feeling of Agory breathing down her neck she realised Lord and indeed Lady Illington had disappeared from her side, which didn’t surprise her in entirety due to the fact the latter person kept fading from view as she bumbled her way out into the rest of the woodland and the former had to keep chasing after her.
She half expected them to rejoin her in their flight once more in a few moments but then the last thing she truly wanted to hear was piercing the air around her. Lady Illington’s scream was echoed around the darkness with disgusting clarity; every single gurgle of blood that flooded around her neck as her windpipe collapsed and the bruises blended into view with the dark of the night. Sarah stopped dead in her tracks, expecting Lord Illington’s scream to follow.
She stood waiting for what seemed an age, her eyes filling with tears. She looked to the ground then with a deep breath up to the sky, before the crunching of branches under foot grew loud in her ears. She stopped dead as she assured herself it was Agory on his way to finish his work but as her senses cleared she gave a splutter of relief as Lord Illington hurtled towards her. Seeing the water piling up in her eyes he placed an arm around her and embraced her. “This is not the time for tears”, he said quietly before holding her at arms length and looking warmly into her growing smile, “Now come my dear, the chase is still afoot and I do believe the woods are soon to be over.” He took her firmly by the hand and together they ran once more.
***
It was several minutes later, as Sarah was beginning to wonder if the woods would ever end, that salvation arrived for both her and Lord Illington. Agory was still somewhere behind them, his attack on Lady Illington had cost him some ground and even he was getting out of breath and slowing down. The woods had been quite silent through the night, the occasional hoot of an owl rang out and the snapping of twigs underfoot was evident as the chase progressed, but above that there was nothing peculiar going on, until the ship arrived.
Sarah almost heard the grinding of the ancient alien engines before they physically arrived, she had been longing to hear them ever since they taunted her with the Doctor’s departure without her some hours earlier. As they grew, Lord Illington seemed to realise what was going on, he too had heard the noise some time before when the man pretending to be Lord Stapleforth had left the house.
They both stopped dead in their tracks as the noise echoed through the woods and the birds nesting in the trees scattered across the jet-black skies. A short space ahead of them a glow of light seemed to appear as from nowhere and as it refined itself Sarah could see it was the light that sat on top of the TARDIS, growing and fading in time with the grinding noise of the ship’s arrival. More lights came in the form of the ‘Police Box’ lettering on each side of the ship and then followed the small windows on each of the blue panels. As the grinding faded and the ship sat alone in a small clearing, light flooding from within Sarah’s heart warmed. She forgot that her breath had been reduced to a rasp that every time she swallowed she could taste blood and that her feet were on the point of collapse. “You know I told you my friend and I are travellers Lord Illington?” She asked with obvious joy in her tone. “Indeed you did, what of it?” he replied in dumbstruck awe, fixated on what he had just seen before him. “Well, this is our ship”, Sarah beamed and took Lord Illington by the hand. She joyously trotted forward to the door of the TARDIS and slowly pushed it aside, flinching as the light from within poured onto her face and together with Lord Illington she stepped inside.
***
“How nice of you to drop by”, the Doctor quipped, not taking his eyes off of the console as it flashed and buzzed. Sarah smiled; she knew he cared, he just found it hard to communicate his feelings sometime, and the TARDIS was always his place to retreat, flicking at the switches and polishing the panels of the console. “Oh, thought you’d like to know how we got on”, she replied, her hands behind her back rocking on the ball of her foot to standing on her toes; playing along with his little game. The Doctor looked up from the instruments before him and gazed into her eyes, flashing her one of his deepest, toothiest grins. She smiled at him then followed his gaze as he looked upon Lord Illington, who stood before the now closed doors, staring up at the ceiling in wonder.
“My dear Frederick!” the Doctor announced, walking toward him arms extending, clasping them onto one of his hands and shaking it feverously, “so wonderful you could make it”, he smiled and returned to the console as Lord Illington looked over at Sarah. “What is this place?” he stuttered. “It’s called a TARDIS”, Sarah said as the Doctor continued to flick controls, stopping to flash his companion more smiles and silently rejoice at her safe return. “But why is it big…” Lord Illington began but the Doctor already had the matter in hand. “The inside exists in an alternative reality and is projected inside the outside”, the Doctor explained as if by remote control trigger, looking up from his work and focusing on Lord Illington. He rubbed his hands together and then looked at Sarah. “Now, what’ve you been up to?”
Suddenly Sarah was brought back down to Earth with the realism of what was going on; Agory was still out there, coming after them. “Well Agory’s the murderer”, she said, “he’s killed everyone but us, he’s out there now trying to finish off the job.” “I see”, the Doctor pondered. “And what have you been doing, you left without me”, Sarah said, a twinge in her voice that seemed to make her relive the hurt of being forgotten. “The TARDIS took me forty-nine years into the future.” “Interesting?” “Well Agory was still very much alive, the world was at war and humanity was about to fall to poverty…same old thing”, he said without a smile. “I almost forgot”, Sarah realised, “It’s Agory, he’s invulnerable, Lord Illington shot him in the chest but he sort of…absorbed the wound.” “He’s an immortal.” “What?” “His DNA was mutated as part of a side effect of an experiment he was conducting back in 1765.” “1765? But that makes him over one hundred and ten years old, by today that is. What was he doing in 1924?” “More to the point, what’s he doing out there now?” Lord Illington pitched in; all three were now gathered around the console. “He’s trying to descend mankind into poverty. By killing everyone at that party he’s placing the country and its government in jeopardy, he’ll frame a French politician for the murders and start a world war. Using his little trick of cheating death he’ll sit and watch as the world crumbles then sets himself up as supreme ruler.” “He’s mad”, Lord Illington gasped and Sarah looked on gravely. “Indeed”, the Doctor nodded in a low tone of voice, glancing into the central column of the console. “Well, what do we do?” Sarah asked in growing desperation. “Well where is he now?” “Out there, he chased us out of the house when we discovered he was the one behind the murders” “I take it he’s armed?” “He’s got a box of those needles”, Lord Illington chipped in, “Sarah found them in the garden.”
“Hold on” Sarah pondered, recalling the events of the night thus far. “There were only four full needles left, he’s used three on Jeeves, Lord Baskrington and Lady Illington.” “He’s got one left and three possible targets”, Lord Illington chimed, a glimmer of hope in his voice. “And it’s you he’ll be after Lord Illington”, the Doctor said without looking at him, “You’re the last one he needs to get out of the way in order to set his plan in motion.” “What about us?” Sarah asked “Oh he’ll get rid of us,” replied the Time Lord whilst raising his eyebrows, “we know what he’s up to.” “But if he’s only got one needle…” “He doesn’t need to cover up our murders, we don’t exist in this time zone. All they’ll find are two unidentifiable bodies dumped in a ditch and then they’ll forget about us, no point investigating two murders when they’re of no consequence.” Sarah swallowed hard at his last statement and looked away, the Doctor’s face still glancing at her through the central column. “So if he’s only got one needle, perhaps he could overpower him”, Lord Illington noted, bringing the Doctor to glance upon him. “It’s possible, but then what do we do with him?” the Doctor pondered, staring into middle distance. “Can’t you just send him to the Time Lords?” Sarah asked, recovering her composure, “let them deal with him?” “I’d rather not get them involved”, the Doctor pointed out, still glaring into space. “What about reversing this mutation?” Lord Illington asked. “We’d need a sample of the liquid that mutated him”, the Doctor replied. “We could go back to his laboratory in 1765”, Sarah said with a heavy realisation, “try and stop the experiment ever reacting.” “Or better still…” the Doctor said as a plan hatched in his brain. He remembered what Agory had said about his cleaning lady and how he came to realise the effect of some of the products of the experiment. “It must have cooled and changed formula, reacting with the air so it had a different effect on him and her”, he said without the others knowing what he was on about. “What do you mean?” Sarah asked. “The solution which mutated him was the same stuff that killed everyone in the manor house. It was left sprayed across the walls of the laboratory and must have cooled down, changed formula and mutated within itself. If I can reverse the change, make it more volatile as it was when it mutated him, I could find an antidote and restore his DNA to normal.” “I must declare, I have no idea what you are saying Doctor”, Lord Illington muttered in confusion. “He’s going to find the chemical that mutated Agory, change it and use it to make him a real human again.” Sarah said simply. “But immortality…such a notion is impossible”, Lord Illington continued.
“My dear Frederick this is no time to disbelieve”, the Doctor sighed and sure enough he snapped back to the gravity of the situation and not his own mind full of questions. “You say this chemical is in those needles of his?” he asked. “A version of it yes, but it’s too far gone the process of change to revert back, we need a sample from closer to the time it changed”, the Doctor replied, he drew breath to speak again but was cut off when there came from outside a distant shouting, almost inaudible through the TARDIS walls. “Doctor, I know it’s you in there, with your silly little friend and than fool Illington”, came the grated rasp of Agory. “My dear Doctor”, the Time Lord replied, walking over to the doors and leaning close to try and make himself heard. “You must be tired, why not rest a while and we’ll talk about this later…about fifty years later”, he said the last part under his breath for good measure. There came no reply from outside, instead there issued a loud thumping as Agory pounded to be let in.
“What are we going to do?” Lord Illington asked. “We could take off, go to the laboratory in 1765 pick up the chemical, alter it then come back and administer a well-deserved injection.” Sarah suggested. “No, I’d rather have him where I can see him”, the Doctor told the others, looking around for inspiration as to how to capture him. He glanced around the almost bare room and then his eyes fell on Lord Illington, “the perfect bait.” His eyes glistened and his smile returned. “Lord Illington, may I take your coat?” “Well...yes of course”, he replied uneasily, confused by what was going on and unnerved by the Doctor’s referral to him as ‘bait’. “What are going to do?” Sarah asked then clicked onto the Doctor’s wavelength as he placed the cat of the hat-stand. “That’s brilliant”, she smiled then ran off into the wider realms of the TARDIS, eventually returning with various items of clothing similar to Lord Illington’s, as well as a rather dusty old wig. Lord Illington himself twigged what was going on and grinned. “I say, jolly good show”, he clasped his hand and the Doctor ushered him to silence, whilst Agory continued to pound on the door outside. As the thumping continued amidst demanding yells to be let in, the three friends set about dressing the hat-stand and laying their trap.
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