If you recognise it, it's not mine.
The Library is infinite. Every single book, every story ever told is there. The Doctor was there, the biggest story of all. The Doctor was there, and therefore so was Clara. This time, she's browsing. She's probably looking for something, she just isn't sure what. She'll know when she finds it. When everyone else is taken from the library, she remains, alone in between huge, shadowy shelves. She finds a node. Everyone has been saved.
"Well, save me too, then!" she mutters crossly to it. It whirrs and buzzes before closing its eyes.
"Impossible. Clara Oswin cannot leave the library. Impossible. Clara Oswin cannot leave the library. Impossible-"
"Oh, shut up," she says to it. She rummages in her bag for her communicator, to call the university office and arrange to be collected. Then she hears voices.
"Because that shadow hasn't gone. It's moved." Somehow, Clara knows that voice. She heads towards it, weaving between shelves. Other words drift through to her.
"Doctor."
"Oh, it's a bit darker than before." Silence for a while. It's as if the books are only letting her hear certain things.
"Vashta Nerada." She knows what they are. The shadows which kill. That's why the library has been evacuated. She quickens her pace, creeping through the shelves silently until-
"Lights! That's what we need, lights!" Clara looks round the next corner and sees a skinny man in a suit, a woman standing beside him and a group of what seem to be astronauts. The astronauts begin setting out their torches in a wide circle after more instructions. Oh, you clever boy, she thinks, but then she sees it. The shadows are moving, creeping towards the group. Clara can tell that they're going to reach them before they can complete the circle. The man in the middle, the one they call the Doctor, will die, and somewhere in her mind she knows that can't happen. So she does the bravest and the stupidest thing she's ever done. She waves at the shadows. "Hey! Over here!" she hisses. The darkness pauses, then begins to retract towards her, silent and terrifying. "Ok. Properly in trouble now. Better run," she mutters to herself, and then sprints away, staying in the light, chased by shadows. Soon she's lost. Easy enough to do in this place as it is, but with carnivorous darkness at your heels, it's inevitable. She finds herself in a long corridor. A narrowing beam of light illuminates the shelves slightly. History, aisle 10. As she backs away down the path of light, it closes up behind her. Her thoughts briefly flash back to the Doctor. Hopefully she's given him time. Then she reaches the point of the light beam. Stops. The shadow continues, snaking along the floor ominously. Clara closes her eyes. The communicator falls to the floor. Darkness. The corridor goes quiet, broken only by a terrifying clattering. Then there's nothing. The shadows slide away again, leaving only a tattered heap of bones and rags. The communicator flashes with a tiny red light.
"Run, you clever boy. Run, you clever boy. Run, you clever boy. Run, you clever boy. Run, you clever boy. Run, you clever boy. Run. Run. Run. Run."
Then even that fades.
And silence falls in the library again.