Pride of the Peacock 2
Ten, Jack, Rose. Here is Part One.
The Time Lord was barely conscious this time - it was no act. Hypoxia and hypothermia and blood loss and exhaustion were eating away at him.
Lyt unwrapped the chain from the Doctor's wrists, pulled away the mask from his face, rolled him onto his side so that he could breathe properly, and pulled a metallic blanket over him. The silver fabric shimmered in the dimness.
The Time Lord was barely conscious this time - it was no act. Hypoxia and hypothermia and blood loss and dehydration and exhaustion were eating away at him.
Lyt busied himself refilling the oxygen tank, whistling. Almost anything he needed could be found in the maintenance infrastructure. Not that there was anything he needed personally.
A vague moan came from under the blanket. Lyt grabbed the back of the Doctor's collar, dragged him up, and poured water into his mouth until he stopped choking and started drinking. Dehydration would get him before anything else, if Lyt wasn't careful.
Once he'd had enough, Lyt dropped the Time Lord back onto the floor and tugged the silver blanket up until it covered everything but the top of his head.
'You're not fooling me, you know.'
After a pause, the shape under the blanket said, 'Drat.'
'No. You're a scorpion under a rock. You could kill me just as easily as I could kill you. I'm in as much danger as you are.' He laughed. 'I like a little pepper in my soup!'
'Why me?' said the Doctor. 'In particular?'
Surely this was self-evident? 'You're the last.'
'The War with the Vampires was over millions of years ago.' The Doctor's eyes were closed, but his voice was perfectly clear. 'Why now?'
'You're the last,' said Lyt again.
'You're thousands of times older than me,' said the Doctor. 'You must have seen things I can barely imagine. What can killing me possibly mean to you? How can you throw away ten million years for my sake?'
'Good grief,' laughed Lyt, 'You're trying to talk me out of it!'
He whipped away the blanket. The Doctor blinked, but his eyes fell closed again. He was so limp he looked as though he'd melted and stuck to the floor. Lyt dragged his victim upright. He could sense the Doctor's skin crawling at contact this close.
From somewhere the Doctor found the strength to shove him away, so that the vampire dropped him to the floor and fell against the wall.
Lyt raised a hand.
'It's no fun if I'm unconscious!' gasped the Doctor.
Lyt unfolded forwards and slammed a huge hand over the Doctor's lower face. 'Your mouth's more dangerous than mine,' he laughed. 'Don't worry. Not this time.'
Then he stuffed the Doctor back into the pipe.
What are Jack and Rose doing to try and rescue the Doctor? Find out in our next thrilling installment!
The Time Lord was barely conscious this time - it was no act. Hypoxia and hypothermia and blood loss and exhaustion were eating away at him.
Lyt unwrapped the chain from the Doctor's wrists, pulled away the mask from his face, rolled him onto his side so that he could breathe properly, and pulled a metallic blanket over him. The silver fabric shimmered in the dimness.
The Time Lord was barely conscious this time - it was no act. Hypoxia and hypothermia and blood loss and dehydration and exhaustion were eating away at him.
Lyt busied himself refilling the oxygen tank, whistling. Almost anything he needed could be found in the maintenance infrastructure. Not that there was anything he needed personally.
A vague moan came from under the blanket. Lyt grabbed the back of the Doctor's collar, dragged him up, and poured water into his mouth until he stopped choking and started drinking. Dehydration would get him before anything else, if Lyt wasn't careful.
Once he'd had enough, Lyt dropped the Time Lord back onto the floor and tugged the silver blanket up until it covered everything but the top of his head.
'You're not fooling me, you know.'
After a pause, the shape under the blanket said, 'Drat.'
'No. You're a scorpion under a rock. You could kill me just as easily as I could kill you. I'm in as much danger as you are.' He laughed. 'I like a little pepper in my soup!'
'Why me?' said the Doctor. 'In particular?'
Surely this was self-evident? 'You're the last.'
'The War with the Vampires was over millions of years ago.' The Doctor's eyes were closed, but his voice was perfectly clear. 'Why now?'
'You're the last,' said Lyt again.
'You're thousands of times older than me,' said the Doctor. 'You must have seen things I can barely imagine. What can killing me possibly mean to you? How can you throw away ten million years for my sake?'
'Good grief,' laughed Lyt, 'You're trying to talk me out of it!'
He whipped away the blanket. The Doctor blinked, but his eyes fell closed again. He was so limp he looked as though he'd melted and stuck to the floor. Lyt dragged his victim upright. He could sense the Doctor's skin crawling at contact this close.
From somewhere the Doctor found the strength to shove him away, so that the vampire dropped him to the floor and fell against the wall.
Lyt raised a hand.
'It's no fun if I'm unconscious!' gasped the Doctor.
Lyt unfolded forwards and slammed a huge hand over the Doctor's lower face. 'Your mouth's more dangerous than mine,' he laughed. 'Don't worry. Not this time.'
Then he stuffed the Doctor back into the pipe.
What are Jack and Rose doing to try and rescue the Doctor? Find out in our next thrilling installment!