Author's Note: I own nothing from Doctor Who :(. But, I own everything else :D! Do to popular vote, I have submitted the next story! Everyone, you got your sequel.

Hobbius looked around his house. It resembled a pig pen. He sighed, and then began picking up. At least it would be a bit clean, before he went to the town square. When Hobbius was done, he snagged his coat from the front door and walked out. The door slammed behind him as he entered the bustling street. There was the stench of garlic, and the sound of street vendors, as they haggled with potential buyers.

A beggar, filthy and old, went up to several bystanders, pleading for food and money. Hobbius sighed again. Poverty was such a common thing, since the new taxes were declared by the Order. He continued walking, ignoring the vendors trying to persuade him to buy. When he reached the town square, he went to the back of a line in front of the daily announcements. He hoped he was not posted on the Deathlist.

When the fellow in front of him breathed out in relief and stepped aside, Hobbius walked up and put on his reading glasses with trembling fingers. He peered at the long list of names and almost wept with relief, until he reached the last name on the list...Hobbius Harrting. His face went paper white. He knew of course, that he would receive a quicker death if he did not resist of attempt to flee.

He gulped, and strode off to the Citadel. This was atop a hill, on the outskirts of the city. The District Leader, the only member of the Order in this region, preformed all the executions there. Some called it "The Fortress of Death". Whatever it might be called, it was a place of terror and evil.

It took him about thirty minutes to reach the Citadel, but finally he was there. He walked in and went to the desk inside. The air was electricity and tension, and there was the stench of death.

"Name?" droned the spectacled, gray-haired, man sitting behind the large desk.

"Hobbius Harrting." Hobbius replied quickly, licking his lips in anxiety.

The man looked up from the papers he had been filling out. He then pointed with a pen at a door and said, "You will wait over in there."

Hobbius nodded, and walked into a room. Ironically, it looked like a hospital waiting room. There were disheveled people of all sorts. All to be executed, for some crime that they probably didn't commit. Soon, a short, bald man with a crooked nose came in. He held a clipboard in one hand.

"Hobbius Harrting." he sneered.

Hobbius got up and quickly walked over. The bald man turned and strutted down a hallway, with Hobbius in tow. Finally, they came to a steel door, which happened to be open.

"Enter!" hissed a glacier-cold, evil-sounding voice from the room.

Baldy, as Hobbius had designated him, pushed Hobbius forcefully into the room. The room was dimly lit, and it smelled of disinfectant. There were….red stains on the walls. Hobbius shuddered. The District Leader sat in the middle of the room, his jagged blade glistening.

"Step forward! You have been charged with conspiring against the Order! Your sentence is execution!" the District Leader sneered.

Hobbius began to sweat, then slowly shuffled forward. Unsatisfied by his speed, his executioner lashed out with his wires, and grabbed Hobbius by the neck. The wires tightened and pulled Hobbius to his doom. Hobbius' head was pulled through the neck brace, and it closed around his neck. The District Leader raised his blade high.

As he waited in those agonizing seconds, Hobbius remembered something. The members of the Order looked like something from long ago. He couldn't remember what, though. All he knew was that it had caused a reign of terror throughout the time period of its existence. Suddenly, he remembered. Wasn't it called a guill-. He never finished his thought, as the blade sliced down and extinguished Hobbius' life. The District Leader made a noise of utter satisfaction, and staff came in and cleaned the mess.

In a warehouse located at the other side of the city, something amazing was happening. Those who walked by it stopped and listened. There was a puzzling groaning noise, followed by thumps, coming from inside. Had anyone looked in the warehouse, they would have seen a most curious sight. They would have gazed in awe as a blue police box appeared out of thin air.

Evil cliff-hanger! MWAHAHAHAAA! If you haven't figured out what the members of the Order are, leave. Just leave. To those of you who have, I...watched to much on the French Revolution. :P