Advent Challenge Day 21
Title: Silent Night, Part 2
Author: acanismajoris or Sako Akarui
Fandom: Doctor Who/Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: None
Rating: PG13
Warnings: This is a scary story. It is meant to scare you. Descriptions of murder will be present. If I give you nightmares, do not complain unless you want to make me happy, as this is my plan.
Disclaimer: Really meant to finish this today. screw life. Head over to Advent Challenge for more stories!
It wasn’t that difficult to find the room of Malcolm Pinkerton or Pampaloola Vaukal, but getting inside proved nearly impossible. Even with the help of psychic paper, it took Amy and the Doctor time to be allowed inside. When they did, Amy lingered in the doorway.
She remembered the notice had mentioned the blood, but it was different to actually see it everywhere: drenching the sheets, seeping into the carpet, even spattered across the wall. Amy couldn’t believe that someone had slept in the unmade bed on her right.
The Doctor bent close to the taped outline of the human(oid) body, sniffing at the dried stain, to Amy’s disgust. An offical-looking man came in behind her, handing the Doctor some sheets of paper before leaving again. Amy glanced over the Doctor’s shoulder as he flipped through the sheets, but looked away quickly. The image of a mutilated corpse, skin peeled up and innards exposed, was burned into her memory before she had a chance to look away. Perhaps Rory was right; she was in way over her head.
The Doctor kept reading, seemingly unconcerned with the gruesome details. Suddenly he became very excited, pointing to a line in the middle of a paragraph. Amy read with trepidation and felt her stomach drop.
‘The heart was missing?’ she mouthed. The Doctor dropped the sheets of paper on the desk in the room and hurried into the halls. Residents were rushing home, locking their doors tight for the night as Amy followed the Doctor back to their room. They crossed the empty hotel room, entered the TARDIS and the Doctor kept going, deeper and deeper into the TARDIS’s labyrinthine rooms. He finally turned into a room with stone walls and pillars. Amy marveled at the high ceiling and moss. This looked an awful lot like the courtyard of a church to her. The wordless voice was singing again, much louder in this room than it had been in the TARDIS two days ago.
The Doctor opened a panel on the wall, rewiring the circuits with haste. The voices began to sharpen, and an image flickered, like a hologram struggling to function. Amy watched as the image of a young girl appeared, disappeared, scattered into the electric snow of a faulty connection. The Doctor kept at work at the panel, and soon the words were intelligible.
Can't even shout, can't even cry,
The Gentlemen are coming on by.
Looking through windows, knocking on doors,
They need to take seven and they might take yours.
Can't call to mom, can't say a word,
You're gonna die screaming but you won't be heard.
The little girl also sharpened, only flickering every minute or so. The Doctor stood slowly, walking up to stand by Amy. Her eyes flickered to the small box in the girl’s hands, but then she felt a stab of panic. She grabbed the Doctor’s shoulder, forgetting that he wouldn’t hear her and asking:
‘Where’s Rory?’
*~*~*~*~*
Rory was walking down the silent street, a rose from the hotel vase in one hand a large sheet with the words ‘I’m sorry’ written across in capital letters. He was worried for Amy, and the last thing he wanted to do now was fight. But where would she be? All the hotel doors were shut up tight, the residents all too afraid to venture outside after last night’s attacks. Light came from an open door around the corner, and Rory’s curiosity overtook him. He looked inside, and dropped the sign and rose.
Two gentlemen - no, not gentlemen, certainly not human - two humonoid figures were standing over the corpse body on the bed. Rory barely took in the sliced skin, the blood on the sheets, the distoreted ribs - he ran away down the hall. The creatures in white coats chased after him, but the men in suits calmly floated out of the room. They followed with the patience of saints.
Author: acanismajoris or Sako Akarui
Fandom: Doctor Who/Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: None
Rating: PG13
Warnings: This is a scary story. It is meant to scare you. Descriptions of murder will be present. If I give you nightmares, do not complain unless you want to make me happy, as this is my plan.
Disclaimer: Really meant to finish this today. screw life. Head over to Advent Challenge for more stories!
It wasn’t that difficult to find the room of Malcolm Pinkerton or Pampaloola Vaukal, but getting inside proved nearly impossible. Even with the help of psychic paper, it took Amy and the Doctor time to be allowed inside. When they did, Amy lingered in the doorway.
She remembered the notice had mentioned the blood, but it was different to actually see it everywhere: drenching the sheets, seeping into the carpet, even spattered across the wall. Amy couldn’t believe that someone had slept in the unmade bed on her right.
The Doctor bent close to the taped outline of the human(oid) body, sniffing at the dried stain, to Amy’s disgust. An offical-looking man came in behind her, handing the Doctor some sheets of paper before leaving again. Amy glanced over the Doctor’s shoulder as he flipped through the sheets, but looked away quickly. The image of a mutilated corpse, skin peeled up and innards exposed, was burned into her memory before she had a chance to look away. Perhaps Rory was right; she was in way over her head.
The Doctor kept reading, seemingly unconcerned with the gruesome details. Suddenly he became very excited, pointing to a line in the middle of a paragraph. Amy read with trepidation and felt her stomach drop.
‘The heart was missing?’ she mouthed. The Doctor dropped the sheets of paper on the desk in the room and hurried into the halls. Residents were rushing home, locking their doors tight for the night as Amy followed the Doctor back to their room. They crossed the empty hotel room, entered the TARDIS and the Doctor kept going, deeper and deeper into the TARDIS’s labyrinthine rooms. He finally turned into a room with stone walls and pillars. Amy marveled at the high ceiling and moss. This looked an awful lot like the courtyard of a church to her. The wordless voice was singing again, much louder in this room than it had been in the TARDIS two days ago.
The Doctor opened a panel on the wall, rewiring the circuits with haste. The voices began to sharpen, and an image flickered, like a hologram struggling to function. Amy watched as the image of a young girl appeared, disappeared, scattered into the electric snow of a faulty connection. The Doctor kept at work at the panel, and soon the words were intelligible.
Can't even shout, can't even cry,
The Gentlemen are coming on by.
Looking through windows, knocking on doors,
They need to take seven and they might take yours.
Can't call to mom, can't say a word,
You're gonna die screaming but you won't be heard.
The little girl also sharpened, only flickering every minute or so. The Doctor stood slowly, walking up to stand by Amy. Her eyes flickered to the small box in the girl’s hands, but then she felt a stab of panic. She grabbed the Doctor’s shoulder, forgetting that he wouldn’t hear her and asking:
‘Where’s Rory?’
*~*~*~*~*
Rory was walking down the silent street, a rose from the hotel vase in one hand a large sheet with the words ‘I’m sorry’ written across in capital letters. He was worried for Amy, and the last thing he wanted to do now was fight. But where would she be? All the hotel doors were shut up tight, the residents all too afraid to venture outside after last night’s attacks. Light came from an open door around the corner, and Rory’s curiosity overtook him. He looked inside, and dropped the sign and rose.
Two gentlemen - no, not gentlemen, certainly not human - two humonoid figures were standing over the corpse body on the bed. Rory barely took in the sliced skin, the blood on the sheets, the distoreted ribs - he ran away down the hall. The creatures in white coats chased after him, but the men in suits calmly floated out of the room. They followed with the patience of saints.