1 - The Man Who Came to Dinner
(A/N) I don't own Doctor Who, although this is an original incarnation and companion. Please rate/review if you like or dislike, and enjoy the story :) (A/N)
The dusty silence of the mansion was pierced by a great wheezing, of ancient engines, and of time piercing. The TARDIS thrummed into life.
"Where are we this time?" sighed Penny, as she exited the blue box. "God! Looks like something out of Scooby Doo…"
"Three guesses…" the Doctor replied, following after. "See if you can get it,"
"Well…" Penny started "It's Earth, going by the look of it. 1700s at earliest…okay, first guess. Windsor Castle…1963,"
"Nope,"
"Balmoral, 2005,"
"Nope,"
"…Camelot?"
"And nope. Give up?"
"Yes,"
"Alright. It's 2012. Morgan's Way. Home of famed parapsychologist Allister Powell, or…Doctor, Allister Powell, to be precise. The problem is, he has a ghost, at the top of his stairs. Except he doesn't. It's a Schrodinger's Cat sort of deal. Anyway, he's stumped. So, he's calling a dinner around, for all his ghost-busting friends. To see if they can solve the mystery of the ghost who wasn't there,"
"And we've been invited?"
"I have. You're my plus one. Dinner for two?"
The dining room was alive with the clatter of cutlery on plates, distant chatter, the works.
It was a strange menagerie of guests, that was for certain – a tall man, more like a stick insect than a human, slowly sipped at a glass of wine, whilst a short, round woman gobbled down a roast potato. A man sat opposite Penny, quietly reading a book under the table, glanced up at her for a second, and she saw his eyes – one brown, one blue. Heterochromia, she remembered, from a dusty old textbook in a dull science lesson.
Penny looked over to the Doctor, sat at her right, chomping away and in the middle of a conversation.
"Doctor?"
He turned around, smiling.
"What's up?"
"Who are these people?"
"Well…" The Doctor started, pointing to each person as he identified them. "That's Doctor Alice McCarthy, from Oxford. Professors Henderson and Doyle, famous supernaturalists from the 80s. And that, over there in the armchair, is-"
The Doctor was cut off by a chinking of glass, coming from the head of the table. A withered man, the flesh hanging off of his bones, with a large brown scar running across his right hand, rose to his feet, glass and fork in hand.
"If I could have your attention please…" he said, each syllable only a scant gasp of air. "Then I'd like to turn your attention to the projector,"
A light came on in the ceiling, and a perfect square of white light hit the wall opposite.
"The occurrences started this time last year. Every night, at 9 o'clock sharp, at the top of the stairs. Not a figure, not a spectre, just a…sensation. An existence, that can't be explained, by anyone or anything. Care to hazard a guess?"
Penny turned to the Doctor.
"We would," she said.
"Okay, now do exactly as I say," the Doctor warned, his arm extended in front of him, keeping Penny at the foot of the stairs. "At a guess, this is a temporal disruption, which are about as unpredictable as a bus service,"
"Got it," Penny nodded.
"Good. Nine o'clock, did you say?"
"Correct," Powell murmured, his voice barely a whisper.
"Alright then. Not long to go…how long does it stay open for?"
"For how long does it stay open?" corrected Powell, a hint of disapproval in his voice. "And, to answer, no more than a minute,"
The Doctor clapped his hands together in excitement.
"Marvellous!" he cried, before silencing himself as Penny glared. "We'll play it by ear, then…"
Suddenly, a candle began to flicker, the orange cone wavering slightly. It wobbled some more, before extinguishing in a sudden breath of wind.
"Oh," Penny sighed. "That's not good…"
"Penny, keep back…" the Doctor muttered, as he began to climb the stairs slowly.
"Doctor, please, be careful!" groaned Powell, gasping through ragged breaths.
"It's quite alright," he replied "I'm rather used to this sort of-"
The Doctor didn't reply. To be more precise, he couldn't reply. Mainly because, he wasn't there anymore. Brilliant white light, flickering like tongues of flame, played through the air, erratic and wild. One nicked the Doctor on his hand, and he was gone, in a flash of light.
The menagerie at the foot of the stairs gasped in surprise, stepping back from the bizarre spectacle. Except for Penny, naturally.
"Doctor!" she called out, breaking free from the crowd. No reply came – only the sound of the white light scorching the air around it. Shaking her head in disbelief, Penny ran up the stairs, leaping off of the first step and flying through the air.
In a second, she touched the light as well, and vanished just as quickly.