The fluorescent lamps flickered, the lights on the monitors flashed, splashing the confined room with light for a few seconds, and then plunging it into darkness. Only one monitor right in the corner remained consistent, and even then the picture twitched and became distorted due to the lack of power. But you could, just about, make out the outline of a face; a nondescript, unidentifiable face, but a face none the less.
She approached the monitor. The last survivor of the crash. This was the only sign of life she'd found on this baron planet. This monitor. This face. And the face spoke.
"It's only me left now. If you pick this up I'm sorry, I really am sorry, but you might as well be dead. I'll be dead soon, and so will you. They're all around me. They're all around you. Stay in the light. Not one finger, or toe or hair in the shadows. And for God's sake count them. Count the shadows."
The message cut out. Eleanor was suddenly acutely aware that the darkness was engulfing her. She didn't know what the message had meant, but she sensed the urgency. And she was scared. Her breathing quickened as she backed towards the monitor, the one fairly constant source of light in the room. But the twitching of the screen was getting more regular. Soon it too would cut out. She was completely alone. The message was right. She might as well be dead. She closed her eyes tightly, and prayed to the God she didn't believe in. Help. She just wanted to get out of this room, to feel the sunlight on her skin again. But the door had clicked shut behind her as she came in, and now it was locked. And she couldn't get out. She didn't know what would happen to her, but she prepared herself for the worst. Help.
Over the sound of her own heavy breathing, a low buzzing sound was heard from outside the room. This was it, she thought. This is how she would die. The buzzing was right outside the door now. She covered her face with her hands. She had nothing, no way of defending herself. She was alone, on an unfamiliar planet, having just witnessed a morbid recording of some poor soul she didn't even know. And now she was going to die. She started to cry. The buzzing got louder. The lock clicked. The door swung open. An electric-blue light flooded the room. Eleanor looked up, bemused. Why was she still alive?
The Doctor returned the sonic screwdriver to his pocket and looked at the wreck of a woman, cowering against a broken monitor.
"Quickly!"
He urged.
"Run!"