Chapter 1

As the Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS, things immediately went drummy.

"Amy, where exactly are we? This does not look like your aunts coffee shop."

Amy replied, "I haven't a clue, but this incessant drumming is not helping my hangover."

"Oh, of course we're in Africa (holding up his finger to the hot dusty air), the Southern end I would say."

At that point the loud, booming beat of a drum which permeated the air was compounded by a sharp rapping which seemed to be originating from someone hitting the TARDIS with a hard object.

The doctor walked around to the back of the TARDIS, with Amy and Rory following close behind. They came upon a scene which was quite different to that which they had come across before even for their improbable travels. The rapping noise came from a squat old man, easily described as wizened, continuously tapping on the TARDIS' windows. The man stopped tapping and turned around. He wore a sullen expression, but this was nothing compared to his clothing. Next to him stood a young man who wore a black suit and sunglasses, strapped to his back was a long curved sword.

"And who are you?" the Doctor directed at both the young and the old man.

The wildly dressed senior answered, "If you do not know who I am then you are new in these parts. The evil is not yet upon you. In that case I tell you to run, run back to wherever you came from before you become enslaved in everlasting misery and hell. Oh, and by the way this is my bodyguard Iriwanda.

Amy and Rory were inclined to laugh at the ridiculousness of the context that this statement was stated in, considering that the group was standing in the middle of a busy and rowdy market place. The pair held back on their laughter, probably because of the penetratingly serious expression that the Doctor maintained throughout this whole moment.

"I am sure that it may be better for our health to leave now but I can see no reason other than your command for why we should obey. Besides I'm the Doctor, and you can trust me to ignore any sort of retreat."
"Why are you so adamant that we should not stay here anyway? ", asked Rory.

"You should not question the words of one so wise as the Sangoma!", interjected the bodyguard.

"Perhaps what my good friend Rory meant was….. Exactly what he said, seriously, why must we leave? What is it that's so evil in this village of yours?" added the Doctor.

The old man with the gnarled stick remained still and quiet for a good moment – much to the irritation of the Doctor who bounced and fidgeted until the Sagoma eventually spoke:

"Do you know what my title, the Sangoma, means? It means that I am the healer and the guardian of this village. I am the Witch Doctor. The evil I speak of arises from a matter which is very much personal to me but affects every occupant of this village. There has been a succession."

"A succession of what? A village leader? A troupe of monkeys? What? What!" Asked the Doctor impatiently.

The Sangoma answered without pause and in a loud clear voice, "There has been a succession of the village Witch Doctor. An evil spirit has taken my sacred post, and no one here seems to remember that I once was the ancient healer or anything about me. It is as if this new Witch Doctor has stolen my life."

The stunned silence which ensued after this statement was broken by an angry horde of villagers which had just succeeded in pushing the TARDIS onto its back – nearly squashing the strange party, of the Doctor, his companions and the Sangoma with his bodyguard.

The Doctor was definitely shocked to see his beautiful blue box lying with its doors facing the sky, but this shock was certainly increased when the TARDIS doors swung inwards to reveal an ordinary police telephone box.