Short Doctor Who drabble and first I've written for this fandom, have some pity as I'm trying to get back into the swing of things and I know this is a pretty rusty start.

When Rory and Amy, awakened by the Tardis' keening, stumble blearily into the control room the sight that greets them brings the couple up short. It's dark but for a single monitor in front of which the Doctor stands, his silhouette that of a tired man, all slumped shoulders and wrinkled clothing. In contrast, the shadow he casts upon them is humongous, cavorting manically across them and clawing at the wall behind.

"Doctor, is everything alright?" It's quiet, so very very quiet and Amy finds the lack of noise uncomfortable. Seconds stretch on and either the Doctor hadn't heard the question or he's simply decided to ignore it, she'd bet on the latter of course. Whatever is wrong must be in the video he's so focused on but when she approaches to see for herself, the Doctor holds a hand for her to stop. "Why can't I-"

"You can look for only three seconds. Count to three and then look away." His tone brooks no arguments and only piques Amy's curiosity further. "Promise me, Pond."

"Alright, alright. Three seconds." The atmosphere in the room is too unsettling to demand answers now and she desperately wants to look. A hand slides gently into hers and squeezes, Rory there to support her, as always. The fact that she appears to need support at all is perhaps most unnerving of all to her. "Well, come on, let's see what the big surprise is."

She looks.

1, 2, 3..

4…

"Amy, look away."

5…

"Amy!"

The room is dark, the screen suddenly black and Rory is leading her gently over to a chair. She wants to say she's fine, to protest the coddling, but her legs are shaking and a sheen of cold sweat has broken across her arms.

"She's a Weeping Empress. Not the exact translation but the closest I can come to in your language. There were many of them once, but the last report of one is long before even I'd been more." The Doctor talks to fill the room and a small sliver of normalcy is restored by the comforting reassurance that he is still very much the Doctor. "The recording is from the headset of a member of a group of grave robbers, tomb raiders, treasure hunters, whatever you want to call them. Only what they mistook for a grand mausoleum, decorated in angel glyphs, was a prison for an Empress. I don't they'd even heard of the Lonely Assassins."

She'd been tall, at least 9 foot, and her entire body had been the chalky green-blue of oxidized copper but for the black tear tracks pouring down her cheeks and chin. Five seconds had been long enough for the lights to flicker 3 times and for three men to die.

"It was different, though, it didn't send them back." Each time the lights in the large stone room had flickered on, another man of the party would suddenly choke and fall to pieces, literally. "Doctor, what is a Weeping Empress?"

"I don't know if they precede the Weeping Angels or if they were weapons built to serve. Regardless, this one had been caged by it's own kind." Without sparing a glance their way, the Doctor raises a hand to silence their forthcoming questions. "The beginning of the footage shows the group entering the vault only to find it empty but for the Empress and one other statue set facing one another. One of the Angels must have sacrificed themselves, volunteering to stay behind and keep watch on the Empress, rendering her immobile and unable to escape."

"So, it's free then. Is that what you're saying?" Before there's even a chance to answer, Rory asks the only question that really matters. "Are we going after it?"

The whirring of the Tardis as it begins to transport is their only answer.