" What do you mean by angels? All I see are statues." Clara whispered as the crept through the tunnels underneath the Vatican. " That's the point Clara. They look like statues, they act like statues, even smell like statues, but the minute you look away then your either a corpse or lost in the annals of time."
" Neither which sound very pleasant." A sharp nod from the Doctor told her that he agreed. The tunnels were lit only by the Doctor's torch and screwdriver, which every now and again beeped or hummed depending and with these noises the Doctor led them through the musty catacombs.
" Almost there." He whispered, its giddy intone made Clara chuckle. " Almost where?" Suddenly the Doctor's torch flickered and Clara stared at it. It flickered once more before going completely out stranding her and the Doctor in the darkness.
" Doctor, I'm scared." Clara murmured and she suddenly felt someone grab her hand. Wrapping her fingers around it, Clara felt the coarse texture of stone and for a brief moment entertained the idea that the Doctor had turned to stone. Holding the flashlight in her other hand, Clara made an effort to turn it on, but discovering she couldn't, smacked it against her arm hard. With a blinding flash, it illuminated the darkness and Clara screamed.
I walked the London skyline with ease while below me lit by the technological wonders of lights, also referred to as streetlamps, were the humans. It was late December, a few days before Christmas from what I could tell of the decorations, which got increasingly gaudier as the day of Christmas grew closer and there were so many people out enjoying the cold and wet that it startled me.
I personally hated Christmas. Every Christmas I was in London, some horrible alien invasion occurred, many times almost blowing my cover and I just wanted one year of peace. Crouching among the gargoyles, I gazed at the faces below me, trying to pick out which ones were unaccompanied and which ones were easy prey. I suddenly saw her. She was dressed in an overcoat the barely covered her fish net clad legs. Perfect. No one was going to miss a whore in London and I unconsciously licked my lips. I hadn't eaten in days and hunger was prevailing my system making it hard to do anything. Standing, I quickly began to walk parallel to her. From across the street I could hear cat calls and hoots from drunken young men and for some strange reason, other women. Listening closely, I learned that she was a newbie to the prostitution business and from somewhere in Romania who came to London looking for work only to find this job.
" You guys are making my day." I thought to myself when suddenly my prey turned into an alley. Running to the edge, I peered over the gutter to find her smoking a joint. High too; this hunt couldn't get any better. Crouching, I jumped my feet landed softy on the dirty pavement.
" Excuse me. " I called out, my deep voice carrying in the alley. She looked up and with a smile began walking towards me. " What are you in for dear cause I can do it all." Reaching out for her, I saw she stopped suddenly. " Whoa I don't do women sorry." But I was already in reach. " You don't have to" I murmured and grabbed onto her wrist. I watched as her eyes went wide with shock and they began to grow filmy with age. Her skin became wrinkled and her face a wizened pile of flesh. Her hair grew immensely long and changed from brown to gray, then to white. The girl's teeth sounded like glass as they hit the ground, each one falling out by itself. Slowly, her body withered away, skin peeling back from bones, and the bones turning into dust. When it was over, I wasn't hungry anymore; in fact I was quite happily full. Drawing the time someone had from them and converting it into energy was extremely fun to watch and I enjoyed the feeling of their life spans flowing into me. Suddenly a scream resounded through the night. Damn, someone had seen what had happened. She stood at the end of the alley gazing at the heap of leftover skin and bones that had yet to turn to dust with tears in her eyes.
" You bitch. What do you do to Stacy?" She ran towards me with a knife in her hand. I smiled and she stopped dead. " This." I whispered and leapt. I was upon her, my heavy weight pinning her down and with the look of terror and fascination on her face as she gazed into my black eyes. " Sweet dreams." And with that I lunged forward, my elongated canines puncturing the soft flesh of her neck. Blood exploded into my mouth as if it was merely a grape and with a jerk of my head ripped her neck apart. I began drinking her blood with earnest, the iron concoction filling my stomach with warmth, but after a few minutes I stopped. I couldn't be caught again with two bodies and taking the scarf the woman called Stacy had, wiped my mouth off and then the girl's neck. Blood still flowed form the wound, but I didn't care. She was dead I could tell and standing walked out unto the streets of London, leaving the two girls to be found by the next couple who dared to stay in that alley in White Chapel.
How about a new beginning for Clara shall we? R&R