Fic: Red Rain (2/5)
Title: Red Rain
Author: juliejordan
Rating: R
Spoilers: Through to and including "Doomsday"
Summary: The Tenth Doctor and Rose find themselves in a Wild West town in 1800s California where young women are being turned into monsters and a cataclysmic event threatens the security of the entire planet. Can they put things right again before it's too late?
Author Notes: This story was written for the wendymr's and dark_aegis Rose Tyler Ficathon. I wrote this fic for grace61, who wanted any Doctor including Nine or Ten, romance but within a plot and no heavy angst. Special thanks to brienze for being such an incredible beta reader. This is a Ten/Rose tale set in a slightly AU where Rose remains with the Doctor in her own world after events of the episode "Doomsday", and contains some graphic scenes of a sexual nature.
Warnings: This chapter contains sexual scenes of an adult nature.
Chapter One: One Day Out West
Chapter Two
Story Time
“All that just for a few free drinks,” Rose shook her head as she sat back down on the bar stool.
They’d just finished their ‘inspection’ of the saloon, which hadn’t revealed any secrets or information like they’d hoped it might. Margaret had refused to talk about whatever was troubling her - and something clearly was - and Rose and the Doctor had found no signs of anything out of the ordinary.
“Why don’t we just go back?” asked Rose “What if there really ain’t anything to see here?”
“There has to be. Margaret’s definitely got something to hide at least, and I want to find out if whatever’s troubling her is connected with the TARDIS bringing us here, which I’m pretty sure it is.”
“Because you know everything,” grinned Rose, her tone slightly mocking.
“I do,” he agreed, his tone, too, light and playful.
“What do we do now, then?”
It was getting late. The wall clock on the bar said it was after six. Most everywhere else apart from the saloon would be closing or closed by now. There was nothing to do, nowhere to go. Just waiting around for something to happen was a bit boring and Rose was wishing that the TARDIS would have taken them to Salem after all.
That evening the Doctor took her to dinner. She put on another dress, posher than the last one, a little more elegant. They went to the local restaurant and drank wine and ate steak and Rose admired how nice everyone looked and enjoyed the men opening doors for her or giving her the right of way just because of her gender. One thing she’d always liked about trips to the past was the display of good manners…sometimes she’d forget her own or say things that weren’t appropriate for the time period, but it was a novelty when anyone practiced theirs on her.
She laughed as she and the Doctor told each other silly jokes and relaxed. She basked in the glow of the soft candlelight, feeling so loved and safe. Travelling would never get old. Where-ever she went, whatever they did, she’d make sure she treasured it, especially after coming so close to losing it altogether.
By the time they left the restaurant, Rose didn’t care about the low levels of excitement this trip was providing. Maybe they needed a break from that danger and all that running about anyway. It was what she lived for, but a holiday wouldn’t hurt either of them. The universe wouldn’t implode because the last Time Lord took it easy for a while, would it?
Rose pulled the little shawl she was wearing tighter over her shoulders. There was a chill in the air that was enough to make her shiver. It was Janurary and the nightly wind was appropriately bitter for the time of year.
They returned to the saloon. Rose was very tipsy. She’d had too much wine and stumbled up the staircase to her room, nearly tripping over her own feet and giggling as she said good night to the Doctor. There was no one around so she gave him a quick snog, though she didn’t go as far as she wanted to thanks to him having everyone believing that they were brother and sister. She was still annoyed with him for telling that fib when he could just as easily have said that they were husband and wife. Then they could’ve shared a bed that night.
Rose let herself into her room and locked the door behind her before crossing over to the bedside table and lighting the lantern that rested there. The light was dim and didn’t do much to help her see as she undressed.
It wasn’t even ten o’clock but she was tired. The wine’s fault, probably, and the dinner had been a heavy meal that she was feeling full from. Despite the early hour, she’d sleep well.
She changed into a cotton night dress and climbed into bed feeling oddly content as she found her mind drifting back to a year before and the Doctor’s regeneration. She thought she’d lost him, but the experience had only made them stronger. Through it all, she’d stuck by his side and she was so very glad. She’d come so close to chucking it all in and going back to her old life, becoming nothing but Rose Tyler: shop girl again, just another face in the crowd who wasn’t at all special.
It was love that had made her stay. It had taken her a while to realise it, but she had loved him from the beginning, from the moment casually told her in that thick Northern accent: “You could come with me?”
Being with him had changed her, and all for the better. The only discomfort came from knowing it would all end one day. Because everything ended. Everything had its time…No one’s luck lasted forever. Hers would run out one day. She’d be taken from him, like she nearly was at Torchwood, only eventually it would actually happen.
It was tempting, then, to sneak into the Doctor’s room, but since that “wasn’t done”, and she decided it might bring about more trouble than it was worth for the pair of them, Rose stayed put.
But, sleep wasn’t coming as the feelings of need caused her to toss and turn, and gradually, her hand, as if not even being controlled by her, slipped down to her legs. She spread herself, just a little, and rubbed at her opening with the palm of her hand, slowly at first but soon building up to a fast and furious pace. Soft, stilted moans escaped her and she inserted a finger. It was enough to push her over the edge, and she struggled to be quiet as shudders rippled through her body as she climaxed.
Satisfied as much as she could be, sleep finally came to her and she dreamed of blue police boxes and golden kisses as she drifted on a calm sea of unconsciousness.
* * * *
The girl stood by her bedroom door, shocked at the soft moans she heard coming from within the room. As inexperienced as she was, Frances could sense what was happening in there. But strangely, she didn’t feel as appalled as she knew she should. Instead, she was intrigued. Another side-effect of her condition, she supposed. Lord, was she condemned to be a sinner in every way possible now?
But what the other young lady was doing to herself behind that door wasn’t important.
They’d come.
At last, the ones who would put an end to the plague which was taking over her town. That was all that mattered; that they were finally here. She’d been seeing them in her dreams for weeks. Fleeting images of a man in a long coat and a girl with yellow hair who were not of her world despite their masquerade.
The creatures had taken eleven victims in the space of nearly three months. Two more victims more and Frances knew that they’d be ready to perform the ritual. She and all the other victims would be taken from their homes. No one would be able to stop them. It would be too late and they would rule her world, raping and slaughtering anyone who wasn’t one of them and burning whole towns to the ground.
Frances had heard them. They’d spoken about it when she’d been held in their crypt almost a week before, not realising the young woman had been awake and listening. They’d thought her still in that limbo that she’d fallen into after being bitten, waiting to rise again as a member of the undead.
The younger of the redheaded sisters felt at her neck, gently tracing trembling fingers over the marks that were embedded in her flesh. She felt at her face. Oh, her face. She’d never considered herself pretty, but her features were now twisted into something hideous, something so frightful to look at that she stayed hidden away, truly ashamed of her vile appearance.
How was it she wasn’t evil like them? She looked like them, but she wasn’t entirely one of them. She didn’t act upon the savage urges that filled…creatures of her kind. She felt pangs of longing and had the cravings, but she still had enough strength not to act upon them. Even though, every moment of every day she wanted to step out into the night and lie in wait for some poor unfortunate to cross her path so that she could bite their neck and feed from their blood. Yet her conscience prevailed. She was able, though it was a great struggle, to suppress her evil desires.
For how long, though, would she be able to maintain her strength? She felt herself weakening. Would the animal blood that Margaret was bringing back from the slaughterhouse be enough to satisfy her needs for much longer? How much longer would she be able to remain locked in the house, day and night? Would she not be driven to madness soon through knowing she was never going to feel sunlight on her face again?
She hoped the travelling saviors would put things right. It was too late for her, but there were still many innocents to be saved.
Quietly, Frances left her own bedroom and walked through the darkened quarters to where one of the strangers rested.
* * * *
Rose was a deep sleeper. She could be anywhere and fall asleep okay. Travelling had got her accustomed to sleeping in strange places at strange hours.
She didn’t hear the door creaking open, too lost in a distant realm that existed only in her mind.
A figure made timid movements towards the foot of Rose’s bed and studied the blonde as she slept, but Rose remained oblivious to the fact that she was being watched.
“Ma’am?” the voice was shy, too quiet to be heard, though Rose rolled over in the bed and mumbled something inaudible as she continued to dream.
There was the sound of a skirt rustling as the intruder crossed to the head of the bed. She leaned forward and, after a nervous pause, put her hands on the body of the girl in the bed and shook her. The shakes were gentle, at first, then they grew a little more violent as the sleeper refused to wake.
Finally, Rose Tyler stirred. She turned herself over, thinking that it was the Doctor who was trying to wake her. She felt momentary excitement at the possibility that he’d snuck into her room in the middle of the night and felt need and desire flood through her. Rose smiled as she turned to face him, but her excitement quickly turned into horror.
A girl with a mangled face and red eyes, and fangs towered over her.
The creature leaned forward and Rose’s eyes widened in fear…
* * * *
In the next room, the Doctor stood, awake and alert. Unlike Rose, he didn’t sleep. Not least because, on the rare occasions he did allow himself to fall into a slumber, he was haunted by nightmares of burning planets and Time Lords screaming as an entire race was wiped out.
The Doctor looked out of the window, watching the town. He had a good view of it from the angle his room was situated. Across the street were the bank, the Town Hall, and the restaurant he’d taken Rose to.
Everything was still. The people slept; no one was out on the streets. The only noise to be heard was the harsh winter wind as it blew through the crisp January air.
It felt like nothing very bad could happen to them here.
And then he heard the scream.
Rose!
He couldn’t think for certain that she was the actual source of the scream, but he took no chances and rushed straight for the room next door, his hearts pounding at the knowledge that she could be in danger. He flung open her door when he reached it, his roughness causing it to slam loudly against the wall.
“Get off! Stop!”
Another woman was leaning over Rose, restraining her arms. Rose struggled furiously as she shouted, trying to kick out with her feet but only succeeding in getting tangled up in the bed sheets.
“Doctor!”
She must have recognised his voice and she called out to him, struggling harder against the woman who was holding her down.
“Please, Miss, please! You must listen!” the woman protested, though her attempts seemed to go unheard.
“Let her go!” the Doctor demanded, taking the woman by her shoulders and wrestling her away from Rose, who took a deep breath as she tried to recover from the surprise attack.
“Who are you? What are you doing in here?” asked the Doctor, holding the woman so that she couldn’t run away. Even in the dark, the Doctor could see her disfigured face and reeled, though it was with sympathy rather than disgust or fear.
She looked desperate but made no effort to escape his clutches.
“I meant the lady no harm! Believe me!” she begged. Even with her demon face, the Doctor sensed she was on the verge of tears.
“Then why’d you jump me in the middle of the night?” asked Rose, her voice slightly shrill with shock.
“Because you’re the only ones who can stop it!” replied the woman.
“Stop what?” Rose didn’t understand. She squinted in the darkness. “What happened to your face, anyway? I thought you were a, well…”
“Monster?” supplied the girl.
A little guiltily, Rose nodded.
“I am,” she said, her voice lowered in sadness. She looked to the floor, openly displaying shame at herself.
The fear subdued, the Doctor loosened his grip. He studied the woman. She was afraid, embarrassed and naive and he saw then that there was no reason to be wary of her. She wouldn’t hurt them. She might have gone the wrong way about getting their attention but the poor girl clearly meant no harm.
“What’s your name?” he asked, softening his voice and becoming as non-threatening as possible now that he knew there wasn’t any danger.
She didn’t get to answer. That moment, light filled the room as a woman carrying a lantern swept angrily through the door.
“Frances! What are you doing? You know you are to stay in your room at all -” she nearly shouted, struggling with her temper.
“Margaret,” the Doctor greeted, cutting her off from her rant. He remained calm “I think…Frances?”
The Doctor smiled at the younger woman and she nodded, confirming her name.
“I think Frances wants to have a little chat with us. And I think it would be a good idea if you stuck around, too,” he insisted, politely, but also in a way that told Margaret she shouldn’t try to defy him.
Margaret gave him a look of contempt, but complied with his ‘suggestion’.
“Right. Excellent. The gang’s all here. It’s a bit like a sleepover, isn’t it? All we’re missing are a few rom-com DVDs and a couple of tubs of Häagen-Dazs,” smiled the Doctor. Rose grinned. Margaret and Frances stared at him like he was someone who’d just escaped from the nearest asylum, but allowed him to continue. “Now then, Frances…tell me everything. Starting with what happened to you? And let her talk, Margaret.”
Frances took a steadying breath.
“It started nearly three months ago,” she began “Bessie McClain disappeared. The whole town wanted to search for her, but her father wouldn’t allow it. He seemed upset, but he acted strangely, like he had something to hide. But he carried on like nothing had happened. He refused to talk about Bessie. Even her mother joined the act and now it’s like Bessie never existed at all. Nobody ever materialised, so everyone assumed she was missing rather than dead. Maybe taken by Savages. Then a few days later another girl went missing. Anne Cartwright this time. Then Rebecca Porter. Then -
“How many people in total? Were they all women?” asked the Doctor, wanting to cut the chase.
“So far? Twelve. And yes, all ladies, all of a young age like me,” replied Frances “Melissa Brown was the last one taken. That was just yesterday.”
“And what about you, Frances? What happened to you?”
She swallowed and glanced nervously towards Margaret, as if silently seeking her approval to answer. But Margaret said nothing. The elder woman just sat with her lips pursed in disapproval.
“I’d been to tea at friend’s house. By the time the gathering finished it was dark and her brother escorted me home. We were feet from the saloon when something grabbed us. We were pulled into an alley and Aubrey was hit over the head and knocked out. I couldn’t see the people who had me captive very well but there were two of them, and one held me against the wall while the other…”
Frances broke off. It was frightening to relive her experience.
“It’s okay,” Rose moved closer and gently put a hand on France’s arm “You can tell us anything. We want to help.”
“I know,” sniffed Frances “I knew you were coming. You’ve haunted my dreams for weeks.”
Rose looked startled. “You saw the future in your dreams? Is that possible?”
“Almost anything’s possible, Rose. You should know that by now more than anyone,” replied the Doctor “But, Frances…if you saw us in your dreams, didn’t you have dreams about your attack? You could have used your visions to prevent it and save yourself.”
“I did see images. But they frightened me. I feared for my sanity…so impossible and unreal are the things I’ve been seeing. I tried to pretend I wasn’t seeing anything at all.”
“This is ridiculous!” Margaret suddenly spoke up, standing in anger. The Doctor had almost forgotten her presence. “I will not hear talk of visions or dreams of the future! That’s like…like witchcraft! I’ll not involve myself in such evil! Oh, dear Lord, my poor sister. Straight to Hell is where you’ll be going after all this and damnation if I’ll let myself join you!”
Like a little tornado, Margaret stormed out of the room. Frances looked like she was going to go after her older sibling but she remained. She continued her story as the Doctor and Rose glanced at each other grimly.
(To be continued...)
Author: juliejordan
Rating: R
Spoilers: Through to and including "Doomsday"
Summary: The Tenth Doctor and Rose find themselves in a Wild West town in 1800s California where young women are being turned into monsters and a cataclysmic event threatens the security of the entire planet. Can they put things right again before it's too late?
Author Notes: This story was written for the wendymr's and dark_aegis Rose Tyler Ficathon. I wrote this fic for grace61, who wanted any Doctor including Nine or Ten, romance but within a plot and no heavy angst. Special thanks to brienze for being such an incredible beta reader. This is a Ten/Rose tale set in a slightly AU where Rose remains with the Doctor in her own world after events of the episode "Doomsday", and contains some graphic scenes of a sexual nature.
Warnings: This chapter contains sexual scenes of an adult nature.
Chapter One: One Day Out West
Chapter Two
Story Time
“All that just for a few free drinks,” Rose shook her head as she sat back down on the bar stool.
They’d just finished their ‘inspection’ of the saloon, which hadn’t revealed any secrets or information like they’d hoped it might. Margaret had refused to talk about whatever was troubling her - and something clearly was - and Rose and the Doctor had found no signs of anything out of the ordinary.
“Why don’t we just go back?” asked Rose “What if there really ain’t anything to see here?”
“There has to be. Margaret’s definitely got something to hide at least, and I want to find out if whatever’s troubling her is connected with the TARDIS bringing us here, which I’m pretty sure it is.”
“Because you know everything,” grinned Rose, her tone slightly mocking.
“I do,” he agreed, his tone, too, light and playful.
“What do we do now, then?”
It was getting late. The wall clock on the bar said it was after six. Most everywhere else apart from the saloon would be closing or closed by now. There was nothing to do, nowhere to go. Just waiting around for something to happen was a bit boring and Rose was wishing that the TARDIS would have taken them to Salem after all.
That evening the Doctor took her to dinner. She put on another dress, posher than the last one, a little more elegant. They went to the local restaurant and drank wine and ate steak and Rose admired how nice everyone looked and enjoyed the men opening doors for her or giving her the right of way just because of her gender. One thing she’d always liked about trips to the past was the display of good manners…sometimes she’d forget her own or say things that weren’t appropriate for the time period, but it was a novelty when anyone practiced theirs on her.
She laughed as she and the Doctor told each other silly jokes and relaxed. She basked in the glow of the soft candlelight, feeling so loved and safe. Travelling would never get old. Where-ever she went, whatever they did, she’d make sure she treasured it, especially after coming so close to losing it altogether.
By the time they left the restaurant, Rose didn’t care about the low levels of excitement this trip was providing. Maybe they needed a break from that danger and all that running about anyway. It was what she lived for, but a holiday wouldn’t hurt either of them. The universe wouldn’t implode because the last Time Lord took it easy for a while, would it?
Rose pulled the little shawl she was wearing tighter over her shoulders. There was a chill in the air that was enough to make her shiver. It was Janurary and the nightly wind was appropriately bitter for the time of year.
They returned to the saloon. Rose was very tipsy. She’d had too much wine and stumbled up the staircase to her room, nearly tripping over her own feet and giggling as she said good night to the Doctor. There was no one around so she gave him a quick snog, though she didn’t go as far as she wanted to thanks to him having everyone believing that they were brother and sister. She was still annoyed with him for telling that fib when he could just as easily have said that they were husband and wife. Then they could’ve shared a bed that night.
Rose let herself into her room and locked the door behind her before crossing over to the bedside table and lighting the lantern that rested there. The light was dim and didn’t do much to help her see as she undressed.
It wasn’t even ten o’clock but she was tired. The wine’s fault, probably, and the dinner had been a heavy meal that she was feeling full from. Despite the early hour, she’d sleep well.
She changed into a cotton night dress and climbed into bed feeling oddly content as she found her mind drifting back to a year before and the Doctor’s regeneration. She thought she’d lost him, but the experience had only made them stronger. Through it all, she’d stuck by his side and she was so very glad. She’d come so close to chucking it all in and going back to her old life, becoming nothing but Rose Tyler: shop girl again, just another face in the crowd who wasn’t at all special.
It was love that had made her stay. It had taken her a while to realise it, but she had loved him from the beginning, from the moment casually told her in that thick Northern accent: “You could come with me?”
Being with him had changed her, and all for the better. The only discomfort came from knowing it would all end one day. Because everything ended. Everything had its time…No one’s luck lasted forever. Hers would run out one day. She’d be taken from him, like she nearly was at Torchwood, only eventually it would actually happen.
It was tempting, then, to sneak into the Doctor’s room, but since that “wasn’t done”, and she decided it might bring about more trouble than it was worth for the pair of them, Rose stayed put.
But, sleep wasn’t coming as the feelings of need caused her to toss and turn, and gradually, her hand, as if not even being controlled by her, slipped down to her legs. She spread herself, just a little, and rubbed at her opening with the palm of her hand, slowly at first but soon building up to a fast and furious pace. Soft, stilted moans escaped her and she inserted a finger. It was enough to push her over the edge, and she struggled to be quiet as shudders rippled through her body as she climaxed.
Satisfied as much as she could be, sleep finally came to her and she dreamed of blue police boxes and golden kisses as she drifted on a calm sea of unconsciousness.
* * * *
The girl stood by her bedroom door, shocked at the soft moans she heard coming from within the room. As inexperienced as she was, Frances could sense what was happening in there. But strangely, she didn’t feel as appalled as she knew she should. Instead, she was intrigued. Another side-effect of her condition, she supposed. Lord, was she condemned to be a sinner in every way possible now?
But what the other young lady was doing to herself behind that door wasn’t important.
They’d come.
At last, the ones who would put an end to the plague which was taking over her town. That was all that mattered; that they were finally here. She’d been seeing them in her dreams for weeks. Fleeting images of a man in a long coat and a girl with yellow hair who were not of her world despite their masquerade.
The creatures had taken eleven victims in the space of nearly three months. Two more victims more and Frances knew that they’d be ready to perform the ritual. She and all the other victims would be taken from their homes. No one would be able to stop them. It would be too late and they would rule her world, raping and slaughtering anyone who wasn’t one of them and burning whole towns to the ground.
Frances had heard them. They’d spoken about it when she’d been held in their crypt almost a week before, not realising the young woman had been awake and listening. They’d thought her still in that limbo that she’d fallen into after being bitten, waiting to rise again as a member of the undead.
The younger of the redheaded sisters felt at her neck, gently tracing trembling fingers over the marks that were embedded in her flesh. She felt at her face. Oh, her face. She’d never considered herself pretty, but her features were now twisted into something hideous, something so frightful to look at that she stayed hidden away, truly ashamed of her vile appearance.
How was it she wasn’t evil like them? She looked like them, but she wasn’t entirely one of them. She didn’t act upon the savage urges that filled…creatures of her kind. She felt pangs of longing and had the cravings, but she still had enough strength not to act upon them. Even though, every moment of every day she wanted to step out into the night and lie in wait for some poor unfortunate to cross her path so that she could bite their neck and feed from their blood. Yet her conscience prevailed. She was able, though it was a great struggle, to suppress her evil desires.
For how long, though, would she be able to maintain her strength? She felt herself weakening. Would the animal blood that Margaret was bringing back from the slaughterhouse be enough to satisfy her needs for much longer? How much longer would she be able to remain locked in the house, day and night? Would she not be driven to madness soon through knowing she was never going to feel sunlight on her face again?
She hoped the travelling saviors would put things right. It was too late for her, but there were still many innocents to be saved.
Quietly, Frances left her own bedroom and walked through the darkened quarters to where one of the strangers rested.
* * * *
Rose was a deep sleeper. She could be anywhere and fall asleep okay. Travelling had got her accustomed to sleeping in strange places at strange hours.
She didn’t hear the door creaking open, too lost in a distant realm that existed only in her mind.
A figure made timid movements towards the foot of Rose’s bed and studied the blonde as she slept, but Rose remained oblivious to the fact that she was being watched.
“Ma’am?” the voice was shy, too quiet to be heard, though Rose rolled over in the bed and mumbled something inaudible as she continued to dream.
There was the sound of a skirt rustling as the intruder crossed to the head of the bed. She leaned forward and, after a nervous pause, put her hands on the body of the girl in the bed and shook her. The shakes were gentle, at first, then they grew a little more violent as the sleeper refused to wake.
Finally, Rose Tyler stirred. She turned herself over, thinking that it was the Doctor who was trying to wake her. She felt momentary excitement at the possibility that he’d snuck into her room in the middle of the night and felt need and desire flood through her. Rose smiled as she turned to face him, but her excitement quickly turned into horror.
A girl with a mangled face and red eyes, and fangs towered over her.
The creature leaned forward and Rose’s eyes widened in fear…
* * * *
In the next room, the Doctor stood, awake and alert. Unlike Rose, he didn’t sleep. Not least because, on the rare occasions he did allow himself to fall into a slumber, he was haunted by nightmares of burning planets and Time Lords screaming as an entire race was wiped out.
The Doctor looked out of the window, watching the town. He had a good view of it from the angle his room was situated. Across the street were the bank, the Town Hall, and the restaurant he’d taken Rose to.
Everything was still. The people slept; no one was out on the streets. The only noise to be heard was the harsh winter wind as it blew through the crisp January air.
It felt like nothing very bad could happen to them here.
And then he heard the scream.
Rose!
He couldn’t think for certain that she was the actual source of the scream, but he took no chances and rushed straight for the room next door, his hearts pounding at the knowledge that she could be in danger. He flung open her door when he reached it, his roughness causing it to slam loudly against the wall.
“Get off! Stop!”
Another woman was leaning over Rose, restraining her arms. Rose struggled furiously as she shouted, trying to kick out with her feet but only succeeding in getting tangled up in the bed sheets.
“Doctor!”
She must have recognised his voice and she called out to him, struggling harder against the woman who was holding her down.
“Please, Miss, please! You must listen!” the woman protested, though her attempts seemed to go unheard.
“Let her go!” the Doctor demanded, taking the woman by her shoulders and wrestling her away from Rose, who took a deep breath as she tried to recover from the surprise attack.
“Who are you? What are you doing in here?” asked the Doctor, holding the woman so that she couldn’t run away. Even in the dark, the Doctor could see her disfigured face and reeled, though it was with sympathy rather than disgust or fear.
She looked desperate but made no effort to escape his clutches.
“I meant the lady no harm! Believe me!” she begged. Even with her demon face, the Doctor sensed she was on the verge of tears.
“Then why’d you jump me in the middle of the night?” asked Rose, her voice slightly shrill with shock.
“Because you’re the only ones who can stop it!” replied the woman.
“Stop what?” Rose didn’t understand. She squinted in the darkness. “What happened to your face, anyway? I thought you were a, well…”
“Monster?” supplied the girl.
A little guiltily, Rose nodded.
“I am,” she said, her voice lowered in sadness. She looked to the floor, openly displaying shame at herself.
The fear subdued, the Doctor loosened his grip. He studied the woman. She was afraid, embarrassed and naive and he saw then that there was no reason to be wary of her. She wouldn’t hurt them. She might have gone the wrong way about getting their attention but the poor girl clearly meant no harm.
“What’s your name?” he asked, softening his voice and becoming as non-threatening as possible now that he knew there wasn’t any danger.
She didn’t get to answer. That moment, light filled the room as a woman carrying a lantern swept angrily through the door.
“Frances! What are you doing? You know you are to stay in your room at all -” she nearly shouted, struggling with her temper.
“Margaret,” the Doctor greeted, cutting her off from her rant. He remained calm “I think…Frances?”
The Doctor smiled at the younger woman and she nodded, confirming her name.
“I think Frances wants to have a little chat with us. And I think it would be a good idea if you stuck around, too,” he insisted, politely, but also in a way that told Margaret she shouldn’t try to defy him.
Margaret gave him a look of contempt, but complied with his ‘suggestion’.
“Right. Excellent. The gang’s all here. It’s a bit like a sleepover, isn’t it? All we’re missing are a few rom-com DVDs and a couple of tubs of Häagen-Dazs,” smiled the Doctor. Rose grinned. Margaret and Frances stared at him like he was someone who’d just escaped from the nearest asylum, but allowed him to continue. “Now then, Frances…tell me everything. Starting with what happened to you? And let her talk, Margaret.”
Frances took a steadying breath.
“It started nearly three months ago,” she began “Bessie McClain disappeared. The whole town wanted to search for her, but her father wouldn’t allow it. He seemed upset, but he acted strangely, like he had something to hide. But he carried on like nothing had happened. He refused to talk about Bessie. Even her mother joined the act and now it’s like Bessie never existed at all. Nobody ever materialised, so everyone assumed she was missing rather than dead. Maybe taken by Savages. Then a few days later another girl went missing. Anne Cartwright this time. Then Rebecca Porter. Then -
“How many people in total? Were they all women?” asked the Doctor, wanting to cut the chase.
“So far? Twelve. And yes, all ladies, all of a young age like me,” replied Frances “Melissa Brown was the last one taken. That was just yesterday.”
“And what about you, Frances? What happened to you?”
She swallowed and glanced nervously towards Margaret, as if silently seeking her approval to answer. But Margaret said nothing. The elder woman just sat with her lips pursed in disapproval.
“I’d been to tea at friend’s house. By the time the gathering finished it was dark and her brother escorted me home. We were feet from the saloon when something grabbed us. We were pulled into an alley and Aubrey was hit over the head and knocked out. I couldn’t see the people who had me captive very well but there were two of them, and one held me against the wall while the other…”
Frances broke off. It was frightening to relive her experience.
“It’s okay,” Rose moved closer and gently put a hand on France’s arm “You can tell us anything. We want to help.”
“I know,” sniffed Frances “I knew you were coming. You’ve haunted my dreams for weeks.”
Rose looked startled. “You saw the future in your dreams? Is that possible?”
“Almost anything’s possible, Rose. You should know that by now more than anyone,” replied the Doctor “But, Frances…if you saw us in your dreams, didn’t you have dreams about your attack? You could have used your visions to prevent it and save yourself.”
“I did see images. But they frightened me. I feared for my sanity…so impossible and unreal are the things I’ve been seeing. I tried to pretend I wasn’t seeing anything at all.”
“This is ridiculous!” Margaret suddenly spoke up, standing in anger. The Doctor had almost forgotten her presence. “I will not hear talk of visions or dreams of the future! That’s like…like witchcraft! I’ll not involve myself in such evil! Oh, dear Lord, my poor sister. Straight to Hell is where you’ll be going after all this and damnation if I’ll let myself join you!”
Like a little tornado, Margaret stormed out of the room. Frances looked like she was going to go after her older sibling but she remained. She continued her story as the Doctor and Rose glanced at each other grimly.
(To be continued...)