DOCTOR WHO:
THE RAGE AGAINST THE LIGHT
WRITTEN BY ZARIUS
The conditions were bitter, but the outside blizzards could not match the bitter emotions researcher Martin Scargill was feeling within himself as he awaited further contact from his estranged wife.
It was the waiting that he hated. The waiting was unbearable, and Martin knew his wife would be all too keen to keep him waiting.
That been the case for the last five times he had tried contacting her all week before he set off the arctic tundra. five attempts, through letters and friends who served a mediator role, with the prospect of more days to come spent wasting time and energy that he was now eager to spend on something more substantial than trying to salvage what he could from where his relationship stood.
But what could be more substantial than moving forward with where your life had taken you?
Perhaps ending it thought Martin.
He got up and dashed outside of his tent, into the wind and snow, intending to remain there until he was reduced to a frigid icicle, preserved in time, and in turn sheltered from its passage, its trials, and tribulations.
He looked to the heavens for sign of the world's end, but no clear image came to his view.
So many things were being denied to him, it seemed so unfair. Not even an omen would grant him an audience.
He knew he should have coped with her mental state better, should have treated her depression with compassion and concern, but he was too preoccupied with work and the pressures of delivering on his findings in the treacherous arctic tundra. He had no time.
He was worried about what she might do to herself if he couldn't reach her with all too late assurances things would be well, that he would be a better man for her, a better husband, and a father their child could admire, he had so much potential to live up to.
But communication was key, and there was none to be had.
The world seemed to be falling apart at the seams in worse ways than the world that mattered to him. A twin planet of Earth had been spotted high in the heavens, there had been talks of an invasion force touching down and of silver giants seizing an arctic base, that this tenth planet from whence they came was siphoning off the energies of Earth to replenish itself.
All these reports coming in to his tent via the radio and associates passing through, so many telling him there was little they could do, all they could do was tell their friends to keep their wits about them, and to let their loved ones know how much they care.
All Martin cared about at this stage was himself.
He heard a noise in the distance, a wheezing, groaning sound. He made his way over to a nearby mound of snow and peered over it.
Miraculously, he was able to make out a clear shape, a large box coated in blue. Stepping out of its doors was what appeared to be a man who looked more desperate than Martin. Unshielded from the treacherous conditions through his lack of protective clothing, he wearily dropped to his knees.
Martin thought of intervening, to take him back to his tent, but something was beginning to happen to the individual as he knelt down. His hand was radiant, a pulsating glow shimmering from it. His face, steelish and angry, began to radiate also. He could be heard to curse briefly under his breath, letting out a faint and frustrated ''no''
More of his body began to ignite in energy, the glow was blinding, Martin liked it to the light of God. Somehow, he sensed this was all he needed to see, he sensed new life came from this light, new hope.
The man's anger began to steadily rise, almost as if he were against the light. He let out another violent and defiant yell of ''no'' that seemed to snap Martin out of his funk.
Martin had no desire to step into the world of the strange, he knew from what he had seen that if someone were this determined to defy the light of God, then he would be better than that, he would be the lifeline to his wife and child, he would try his hardest to make peace with them.
He would prove stronger than the man who raged against the light.