AN: Well, it had to happen I guess, hope you enjoy this little teaser...prologue...thing. Anyway, on with the show!
Disclaimer: I will never own either Harry Potter or Doctor Who...spoilsports.
Chapter Zero: Prologue
"Deck the halls with boughs of holly: Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la. 'Tis the season to be jolly: Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la. Don we now our gay-"
With a snarl, Philip grabbed the remote and switched off the festive music blaring over the speakers. Grumbling, he tossed the chunk of plastic back onto the desk and snatched up his paper.
At the age of twenty-eight, Philip Simmons was a very, very bitter man. He'd always been one of the outcasts back in the day, that one weirdo that hated the peppiness that the other kids seemed to exude naturally and always had a sneer affixed to his lips, except when he saw others feeling pain and misery. He winced slightly as the memory of a rather vicious beating he received in his youth came to the front of his mind. Was it his fault that they heard his sniggering while a distraught girl cried over the hospitalisation of her grandmother?
Shaking his head to remove the memories, he tossed his paper onto the desk and glared into the monitors before him. Why in the hell did he agree to pick up the graveyard shift at the mall? On the day before Christmas eve? Scowling, he glowered sourly at the monitors, the vibrant white glow stinging his eyes a litt-
"What the hell?"
He leaned forward, blinking slightly as he stared at the very middle monitor. There were fifteen in total, split into five columns of three. The monitor he was currently staring at showed a most peculiar sight. In the locked garden emporium was a figure, standing completely still with their back to the camera. The lack of lighting made it difficult for the slightly pudgy man to make out any definitive details.
Cursing, he pushed away from the desk and leapt to his feet. Grabbing his night-stick, he hurried to the door, not noticing that in the few seconds that it took for him to leave-the figure had turned to the camera.
Panting slightly, he grumbled at the large distance between his station and the garden emporium. After running for a solid five minutes, he pulled to a stop at the shutters of the aforementioned garden emporium. Panting violently, he shakily fished out a large ring of keys. After several failed attempts, and a lot of cursing, Philip finally found the correct key and shoved it forcefully into the shutter lock. Turning the key and hoisting the shutter up, he pulled his torch from his belt and clicked it on, while taking a tentative step into the darkness of the store.
"Who-who's in here?" he yelled, in a failed attempt at sounding authoritative "I'm warning you, if I find you you'll-you'll be in a lot of trou-trouble!"
Silence was his response, causing him to gulp audibly.
"Bloody coward." He muttered, slowly walking into the darkness, all the while he slowly moved his torch through the gloom. He would never admit it but he was bloody terrified of the various ornaments scattered over the many shelves. The combination of the darkness and the harsh white of his torch caused evil shadows to dance in the light. He came to a stop abruptly as a soft sound carried towards him in the air, like the sound off...grating?
"Who's there!" He roared, spinning wildly on the spot, his torch cutting through the air. He felt fear start to bubble in his gut as the grating got louder, but every time he turned in the direction of the sound, it moved to another location.
"How are you doing-"
He was cut off as his torchlight stared to flicker. Confused, he brought the piece of equipment to his face. As the torch flickered again, his eyes widened. What the hell! He had just put in fresh batteries a few hours ago. He dropped the torch in fright as the grating returned, much louder than before. Scrambling for his torch, he scooped it up and jabbed it in the direction of the sound.
Only to illuminate a stone statue.
"Jesus Christ!" He groaned, clutching a hand to his heart as he stared at the statue, was he honestly just scared off a stupid statue? The statue itself was human in shape, only for some reason its hands were covering its face.
"Piece of garbage." He muttered, rubbing his eyes in a bid to rid them of 'sleep sand'. He must be more tired than he-did that thing just move!
The statue's hands had dipped slightly, revealing its blank stone-eyed gaze, while it seemed to have, unless his eyes were deceiving him, it had moved forward slightly.
He backed off, blinking in surprise, which caused the statue to move again-only its hands were now outstretched while its face had morphed into a terrifying snarl of razor-sharp looking teeth. It was at this point that Philip made a fatal mistake.
He turned his back on the statue.
In his terror-clouded mind, he had turned to run in the opposite direction, only to feel hard, cold hands grasp his neck. With a sickeningly loud SNAP, he collapsed to the ground, dead long before he made contact. His torch fell as he fell, the head smashing upon connection with the cold, wooden floor. As the light of the torch died, one thing shone brightly through the gloom.
The eyes of an angel.
*Opening title*
Starring:
Daniel Radcliffe as The Doctor
Emma Watson as Hermione Granger
Mad-Man with a Box - The Christmas Special:
The Eve of Angels
AN: Well, there you have it. The opening to my first Doctor Who Christmas Special. While I did say SOL would get an update, my muse preferred to bombarded me with ideas for a Christmas 'sequel' to Mad-Man with a Box. While a little short, I hope you guys enjoyed it and make sure to R&R and also keep an eye out for the next update. This is AuraStormMaster, signing off.