Shadow man (10/Rose) 2/?
Title Shadow man
Characters 10th Doctor/Rose
Disclaimer Don't own Doctor who. it is owned by the BBC. this story is my own.
Summary Stumbling across a delapitaed Hotel, the Doctor and Rose fight to survive things that cannot exsist.
Rating Pg-13
Dedecation For Ads, Rosetylerrox and WMR who writes such great fics.
Haunted Hotel
Thanks to rosetylerrox for betaing this for me.
KITG: okay…this chapter is a pain in the ass. Not because it was hard to write…far from it. Just because of the fact that when I was nearly done, word decided to shut down, and by the looks of it not save the 4 pages I had done. So when I opened it once more…there were just 4 lines. Pissed off does not cover what I felt. So I will try to write this how it was the first time, maybe even better, we shall have to see.
Memories before Death
The TARDIS moved through the space-time vortex as always, passing though the numerous corridors of time that led to infinite possibilities. Inside, the Doctor moved around the mushroom shape console as he kept an eye on the ships passage. He glanced up to the form of his best friend, and dare he say it: soulmate. She matched him in so many ways; but he dare not cross the boundary he longed to, especially not now. He had newly regenerated and they were both finding their feet again. They were finally heading to Barcelona, after the trouble at Christmas; that had been about a week ago, they had just sat and talked. Him telling her exactly what regeneration was; he still wondered that when she looked at him, was she looking for what was, for the Doctor she had loved, not this stranger in front of her.
Rose was sat on the chair beside the console, holding in her hands two cups of tea, one was hers, and the other was his, waiting until he finished; with one last look over the systems he sat down beside her and took his mug from her. He could not suppress the smile as he saw it was the mug she had given him as a late Christmas present. After the Sycorax, she had stopped off and had it especially made; he looked down at the words on it.
“I know I’m a bit pretty. Your point is?!”
“I never should have got you that cup, think I’ll have to ask the TARDIS to create a bigger room to contain your ego,” she stated as she took a sip of her tea having seen him laugh at the cup once more
“Oi, I do not have an over inflated ego…it’s just the right size for this body.”
“Yeah right, next thing you know you’ll have a Time lord with a balloon sized head,” she giggled at the image.
“Hey…I resemble that statement…I mean….” That did it, Rose was in hysterics at his face as he slipped up, he had to take the cup from her hand before she spilled it over the TARDIS.
“You’re nuts, you are,” she concluded when she had stopped laughing.
“Ah, but you love me really.” He replied, then wish he hadn’t: For she got up, and walked towards the console with her back to him. She ran her hand lovingly over the console surface; he could feel the TARDIS hum in delight like greeting a long lost sister. And he also felt her concern for this little ape that held his hearts; he looked down, why did he have to say that? She loved his Ninth self; he wasn’t sure how she felt about this incarnation of him: not fully.
He felt her hand cup his face, making him look into her eyes.
“It’s okay Doctor, it’s not you. It’s me that has the problem. You’re fine how you are, I just need to get this stupid ape brain round it. You act like you are now: not like something that you were, because that would be a lie and would hurt us both.”
She then kissed him on his other cheek; he looked on her in awe, when had she become so wise? He turned his head, placing a small kiss in that hand that had been cupping his cheek.
He had been about to say something, along the lines of how great she was when they were flung across the TARDIS as the ship lurched: screaming in pain. And before they could pick themselves up: she rolled. He lost sight of rose as they rolled around as if in some kind of washing machine.
Rose had felt the TARDIS’s pain and screamed along with her, and then there was a loud clunk as the Time Rota stopped with one final scream from the TARDIS. Blazing fire across her brain, she opened her eyes to find she was under the grating that was the TARDIS floor. Quite how she got down there she didn’t know; she felt hot wetness on her head and placed her hand too it, looking as it came away bloody, looking like black tar in the dull green light of the TARDIS.
“Rose?” She heard him call out to her, his voice sound tired as if he had just woken up.
“Down here,” not surprised to hear hers sounded the same. She heard him crawl across the grating, then his head then appeared above her, looking upside down.
“What you doing down there?” He asked. She said nothing, just replied with a small grin and with his help she got out; he fussed over he a moment seeing her head wound, but she batted him off.
“She hurts Doctor, the TARDIS is scared,” she could feel the TARDIS almost shaking in fear and pain.
“You feel that?” She nodded.
“It’s something out there, but don’t worry. I’ll go out, give them a good telling off and be back before you know it.”
“No, Doctor; WE will tell them off: no one hurts our TARDIS.” She had guessed what he had planned, realising whatever could scare the TARDIS so much, the TARDIS that had stood before Daleks and many other evils of the universe, which whatever was outside was infinitely dangerous. He looked on at her in awe: she never stopped surprising him.
They had gone to med bay where he had seen to her head wound; then she had returned the favour when she saw he had sliced open his hand somehow. Then she had cleaned the dried blood from her face and they had returned to the console room. He walked to the door, ready to leave but they were blown back by the strong wind and rain that greeted them.
“You’d better put a better jacket on…and grab mine, will you?” He waited while she ran to get her jacket and his long, brown coat. She helped him put his on, and then they tried again: they were in what appeared to be some woods; the Doctor took out some kind of pocket watch, but inside it was digital, she waited as he moved it around, obviously scanning the area. Then he took her hand and pointed in a direction: unable to talk over the roar of the wind.
They travelled down an overgrown path or driveway, and as they continued on Rose became aware of the roar of waves mingled with the wind, she licked her lips: tasting salt. As they rounded the last clump of trees they came to a clearing, the flash of lighting in that instant illuminating what looked to be a large house or manor. It looked to be some kind of American style, the wooden slat walls, and the small entranceway, with more of the house behind. The part that stuck out from the front had the Ground entrance and a 1st Floor. Then behind that to the main part of the building, it seemed to have the 1st, then a 2nd and 3rd. the square windows stereotypical of American design.
The Doctor pulled on her hand and they walked to the entrance; it looked like it had once had a sign hanging from the top of the porch, but now it had fallen off at one side, coming to rest in front of the entrance, so they had to step round. In the dark of this stormy night, she could not read the sign, and if the rest of the house was anything to go by. She was sure it would have worn away, following the Doctor through the door.
The roar of the storm dulled somewhat as he closed the door. Inside it was pitch black, the Doctor pulled from his pockets two penlights, one of which he handed to Rose. Turning them on it revealed they were in an entrance hall. Before them was a large staircase that curved round the wall from right to left, leading to a balcony that was the second floor. At the foot of the stairs were some couches sat in the curve, a moth eaten carpet and a grandfather clock; he walked towards it, noting he kicked up a lot of dust as he did do: no one had been here in years.
“I don’t like this Doctor,” Rose said in a quiet voice, he came up to the clock, seeing the face smashed, hands fallen out. Through the glass window in the front he could see the pendulum and chains had also fallen, to rest at the bottom.
“Nonsense, Rose: it’s just a building,” he replied.
“Welcome to Ocean View Hotel,” she said, he turned to find her standing beside what looked to be the reception desk. He walked up to her, she was reading some sort of pamphlet, the paper turning yellow with age. It said the usual spiel of “We hope you enjoy your stay.” He walked around the desk to look behind, crouching down to look in the cubby holes, noting as he did so the photos on the wall. They had been defaced, the glass broken and then seemingly slashed with a knife repeatedly. He heard Rose’s footsteps travel round to the left as he looked.
“Nothing here, let’s look around,” he stood up, expecting to see her…..but she was nowhere. “Rose?”
The Doctor stepped out from behind the desk, looking around the entrance hall, seeing a corridor to the left, ending in what seemed to be a window; the corridor to the right its mirror. He grumbled about companions wandering off and walked down the left hallway. He came to one set of double doors, wood and carved with swirls and other designs. The Doctor placed his hand on the handle, the shadows flashed to accompany the flash of lightning through the windows at his back and to the one further down on his left. He opened the door, flicking his light around the dust filled room.
“Rose?” Nothing; it looked to be a bar and restaurant, the glass bottles glinting in his torchlight. He closed the door and travelled towards the window and the other set of double doors to his left; opening this he saw a large room, with a once polished floor and a section in the back showing some instruments it was covered in dust like the rest of this place….. just dust.
He suddenly realised he had seen no footprints. He rushed back to the reception desk, seeing his and Rose’s footprints coming in, seeing hers walk round the desk to the left…then to disappear.
“Rose!” Nothing replied, but then he heard a thump, as if someone had fallen upstairs. He ran up the stairs and along the balcony to the left where the sound had come from, he passed the dark alcove at the top that no doubt led to other rooms. He came to a set of double doors, which seemed to be above the bar. He opened them to find a bedroom. A child’s bedroom if the toys were anything to go by… He turned around at the creak of a floorboard, to see Rose standing there: sightless eyes and blood dripping from the savage wounds in her stomach….
88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
The Doctor woke up with a gasping sob; he looked around to find himself back in the entrance hall, standing on a ladder above the staircase. The lights were now on and he could still smell blood: Rose’s blood. He could not stop the small sob from escaping him; she was dead. Oh, what she must have felt, the fear and pain…thinking he would save her: but he had failed and she still had said she loved him. He didn’t deserve her love, only his ninth self did. His ninth self had never failed her, had always been there. Then that moment was gone, and his face changed to the cold mask, the one that showed you had no second chances, the one that screamed that who had ever killed Rose in such a way would pay.
He felt something chafe his neck, so he looked up, to see a rope attached to one of the Rafters, it led down to him…it was a noose. He also noticed his hands were tied behind his back; he tried to move, but stopped as this caused the ladder to sway.
He heard a creak and looked down to see someone standing at the top of the stairs.
“Who are you?!” There was no reply. He couldn’t make out the man clearly; It was some kind of shadow.
“You’re the shadow man,” it was a statement, but still no reply. “You killed Rose!”
“She was sweet:. You did not deserve her.”
“Who are you to say that? You killed her! She did nothing to you!” But he got no more from the figure, than for him to walk to the bottom of the ladder.
“Then join her.”
The ladder was gone, he fell and instantly thought of Rose…..before the blackness of death.
KITG: Yes… I know I’m evil. But what can I say. Hope you still enjoy it. And hope this chapter was okay…as seen, as I had to re write it. (sob)
Characters 10th Doctor/Rose
Disclaimer Don't own Doctor who. it is owned by the BBC. this story is my own.
Summary Stumbling across a delapitaed Hotel, the Doctor and Rose fight to survive things that cannot exsist.
Rating Pg-13
Dedecation For Ads, Rosetylerrox and WMR who writes such great fics.
Haunted Hotel
Thanks to rosetylerrox for betaing this for me.
KITG: okay…this chapter is a pain in the ass. Not because it was hard to write…far from it. Just because of the fact that when I was nearly done, word decided to shut down, and by the looks of it not save the 4 pages I had done. So when I opened it once more…there were just 4 lines. Pissed off does not cover what I felt. So I will try to write this how it was the first time, maybe even better, we shall have to see.
Memories before Death
The TARDIS moved through the space-time vortex as always, passing though the numerous corridors of time that led to infinite possibilities. Inside, the Doctor moved around the mushroom shape console as he kept an eye on the ships passage. He glanced up to the form of his best friend, and dare he say it: soulmate. She matched him in so many ways; but he dare not cross the boundary he longed to, especially not now. He had newly regenerated and they were both finding their feet again. They were finally heading to Barcelona, after the trouble at Christmas; that had been about a week ago, they had just sat and talked. Him telling her exactly what regeneration was; he still wondered that when she looked at him, was she looking for what was, for the Doctor she had loved, not this stranger in front of her.
Rose was sat on the chair beside the console, holding in her hands two cups of tea, one was hers, and the other was his, waiting until he finished; with one last look over the systems he sat down beside her and took his mug from her. He could not suppress the smile as he saw it was the mug she had given him as a late Christmas present. After the Sycorax, she had stopped off and had it especially made; he looked down at the words on it.
“I know I’m a bit pretty. Your point is?!”
“I never should have got you that cup, think I’ll have to ask the TARDIS to create a bigger room to contain your ego,” she stated as she took a sip of her tea having seen him laugh at the cup once more
“Oi, I do not have an over inflated ego…it’s just the right size for this body.”
“Yeah right, next thing you know you’ll have a Time lord with a balloon sized head,” she giggled at the image.
“Hey…I resemble that statement…I mean….” That did it, Rose was in hysterics at his face as he slipped up, he had to take the cup from her hand before she spilled it over the TARDIS.
“You’re nuts, you are,” she concluded when she had stopped laughing.
“Ah, but you love me really.” He replied, then wish he hadn’t: For she got up, and walked towards the console with her back to him. She ran her hand lovingly over the console surface; he could feel the TARDIS hum in delight like greeting a long lost sister. And he also felt her concern for this little ape that held his hearts; he looked down, why did he have to say that? She loved his Ninth self; he wasn’t sure how she felt about this incarnation of him: not fully.
He felt her hand cup his face, making him look into her eyes.
“It’s okay Doctor, it’s not you. It’s me that has the problem. You’re fine how you are, I just need to get this stupid ape brain round it. You act like you are now: not like something that you were, because that would be a lie and would hurt us both.”
She then kissed him on his other cheek; he looked on her in awe, when had she become so wise? He turned his head, placing a small kiss in that hand that had been cupping his cheek.
He had been about to say something, along the lines of how great she was when they were flung across the TARDIS as the ship lurched: screaming in pain. And before they could pick themselves up: she rolled. He lost sight of rose as they rolled around as if in some kind of washing machine.
Rose had felt the TARDIS’s pain and screamed along with her, and then there was a loud clunk as the Time Rota stopped with one final scream from the TARDIS. Blazing fire across her brain, she opened her eyes to find she was under the grating that was the TARDIS floor. Quite how she got down there she didn’t know; she felt hot wetness on her head and placed her hand too it, looking as it came away bloody, looking like black tar in the dull green light of the TARDIS.
“Rose?” She heard him call out to her, his voice sound tired as if he had just woken up.
“Down here,” not surprised to hear hers sounded the same. She heard him crawl across the grating, then his head then appeared above her, looking upside down.
“What you doing down there?” He asked. She said nothing, just replied with a small grin and with his help she got out; he fussed over he a moment seeing her head wound, but she batted him off.
“She hurts Doctor, the TARDIS is scared,” she could feel the TARDIS almost shaking in fear and pain.
“You feel that?” She nodded.
“It’s something out there, but don’t worry. I’ll go out, give them a good telling off and be back before you know it.”
“No, Doctor; WE will tell them off: no one hurts our TARDIS.” She had guessed what he had planned, realising whatever could scare the TARDIS so much, the TARDIS that had stood before Daleks and many other evils of the universe, which whatever was outside was infinitely dangerous. He looked on at her in awe: she never stopped surprising him.
They had gone to med bay where he had seen to her head wound; then she had returned the favour when she saw he had sliced open his hand somehow. Then she had cleaned the dried blood from her face and they had returned to the console room. He walked to the door, ready to leave but they were blown back by the strong wind and rain that greeted them.
“You’d better put a better jacket on…and grab mine, will you?” He waited while she ran to get her jacket and his long, brown coat. She helped him put his on, and then they tried again: they were in what appeared to be some woods; the Doctor took out some kind of pocket watch, but inside it was digital, she waited as he moved it around, obviously scanning the area. Then he took her hand and pointed in a direction: unable to talk over the roar of the wind.
They travelled down an overgrown path or driveway, and as they continued on Rose became aware of the roar of waves mingled with the wind, she licked her lips: tasting salt. As they rounded the last clump of trees they came to a clearing, the flash of lighting in that instant illuminating what looked to be a large house or manor. It looked to be some kind of American style, the wooden slat walls, and the small entranceway, with more of the house behind. The part that stuck out from the front had the Ground entrance and a 1st Floor. Then behind that to the main part of the building, it seemed to have the 1st, then a 2nd and 3rd. the square windows stereotypical of American design.
The Doctor pulled on her hand and they walked to the entrance; it looked like it had once had a sign hanging from the top of the porch, but now it had fallen off at one side, coming to rest in front of the entrance, so they had to step round. In the dark of this stormy night, she could not read the sign, and if the rest of the house was anything to go by. She was sure it would have worn away, following the Doctor through the door.
The roar of the storm dulled somewhat as he closed the door. Inside it was pitch black, the Doctor pulled from his pockets two penlights, one of which he handed to Rose. Turning them on it revealed they were in an entrance hall. Before them was a large staircase that curved round the wall from right to left, leading to a balcony that was the second floor. At the foot of the stairs were some couches sat in the curve, a moth eaten carpet and a grandfather clock; he walked towards it, noting he kicked up a lot of dust as he did do: no one had been here in years.
“I don’t like this Doctor,” Rose said in a quiet voice, he came up to the clock, seeing the face smashed, hands fallen out. Through the glass window in the front he could see the pendulum and chains had also fallen, to rest at the bottom.
“Nonsense, Rose: it’s just a building,” he replied.
“Welcome to Ocean View Hotel,” she said, he turned to find her standing beside what looked to be the reception desk. He walked up to her, she was reading some sort of pamphlet, the paper turning yellow with age. It said the usual spiel of “We hope you enjoy your stay.” He walked around the desk to look behind, crouching down to look in the cubby holes, noting as he did so the photos on the wall. They had been defaced, the glass broken and then seemingly slashed with a knife repeatedly. He heard Rose’s footsteps travel round to the left as he looked.
“Nothing here, let’s look around,” he stood up, expecting to see her…..but she was nowhere. “Rose?”
The Doctor stepped out from behind the desk, looking around the entrance hall, seeing a corridor to the left, ending in what seemed to be a window; the corridor to the right its mirror. He grumbled about companions wandering off and walked down the left hallway. He came to one set of double doors, wood and carved with swirls and other designs. The Doctor placed his hand on the handle, the shadows flashed to accompany the flash of lightning through the windows at his back and to the one further down on his left. He opened the door, flicking his light around the dust filled room.
“Rose?” Nothing; it looked to be a bar and restaurant, the glass bottles glinting in his torchlight. He closed the door and travelled towards the window and the other set of double doors to his left; opening this he saw a large room, with a once polished floor and a section in the back showing some instruments it was covered in dust like the rest of this place….. just dust.
He suddenly realised he had seen no footprints. He rushed back to the reception desk, seeing his and Rose’s footprints coming in, seeing hers walk round the desk to the left…then to disappear.
“Rose!” Nothing replied, but then he heard a thump, as if someone had fallen upstairs. He ran up the stairs and along the balcony to the left where the sound had come from, he passed the dark alcove at the top that no doubt led to other rooms. He came to a set of double doors, which seemed to be above the bar. He opened them to find a bedroom. A child’s bedroom if the toys were anything to go by… He turned around at the creak of a floorboard, to see Rose standing there: sightless eyes and blood dripping from the savage wounds in her stomach….
88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
The Doctor woke up with a gasping sob; he looked around to find himself back in the entrance hall, standing on a ladder above the staircase. The lights were now on and he could still smell blood: Rose’s blood. He could not stop the small sob from escaping him; she was dead. Oh, what she must have felt, the fear and pain…thinking he would save her: but he had failed and she still had said she loved him. He didn’t deserve her love, only his ninth self did. His ninth self had never failed her, had always been there. Then that moment was gone, and his face changed to the cold mask, the one that showed you had no second chances, the one that screamed that who had ever killed Rose in such a way would pay.
He felt something chafe his neck, so he looked up, to see a rope attached to one of the Rafters, it led down to him…it was a noose. He also noticed his hands were tied behind his back; he tried to move, but stopped as this caused the ladder to sway.
He heard a creak and looked down to see someone standing at the top of the stairs.
“Who are you?!” There was no reply. He couldn’t make out the man clearly; It was some kind of shadow.
“You’re the shadow man,” it was a statement, but still no reply. “You killed Rose!”
“She was sweet:. You did not deserve her.”
“Who are you to say that? You killed her! She did nothing to you!” But he got no more from the figure, than for him to walk to the bottom of the ladder.
“Then join her.”
The ladder was gone, he fell and instantly thought of Rose…..before the blackness of death.
KITG: Yes… I know I’m evil. But what can I say. Hope you still enjoy it. And hope this chapter was okay…as seen, as I had to re write it. (sob)