Chapter 1

It was another Wednesday afternoon, walking home through the rain. Twenty four, twenty five, twenty six. I started to pull out my house keys. Twenty seven, twenty eight, twenty "Stop! Hold still. Don't move. Whatever you do, don't move."

I screamed at the alarming sound I hadn't expected and swung my backpack towards it with all my might. I heard the resounding clunk of papers on head. "Ow! I told you not to move. That was the direct opposite of not moving!" The voice was male and irritated.

"What the hell do you want from me?" I demanded from the man, whom I presumed was in front of me.

"I want to keep you safe, a task which you are making far more difficult than it needs to be."

"Okaay." I said, quickly thinking this was a wind up; an unkind, mean spirited wind up in the pouring rain on a Wednesday afternoon after a three hour lecture on Milton. Was it one of the rugby club idiots? I knew Jeff hung out with some of them, or maybe it was some awful hazing ceremony. Waylay and obfuscate a disabled student, trying to get home for a cup of tea, instead of standing in the pouring rain without an umbrella.

I heard a weird high pitched electrical sound, a sort of whir, and felt the man invade my personal space as he pointed the high-pitched gadget at my face. I slapped his hand away.

"My screwdriver!" His…..screwdriver… thing had clattered to the pavement.

"Who are you anyway! I mean I know it's all a nasty joke, but you haven't even given me a name to play along with."

He invaded my personal space again. This time his seemingly large head close to my face. Although I couldn't see him, I sensed that he was scrutinizing me.

"Who wants to play a joke on you?" My heart crept up into my throat. I didn't know this man, but he seemed to care about me. That voice; it wasn't the voice of someone cruel. I didn't know this mystery man but I could just tell that he was genuine concerned for me.

"I..I don't know," I stammered, uncomfortable with his closeness. I aimed for where his chest would be and gave him a hard shove to get away.

"Will you stop hitting me!" He exclaimed.

"Who are you? Give me a name!"

"The Doctor."

"What doctor?"

"The Doctor. It's a title."

"Bit of a ponsy title, isn't it?"

"No," he said, sounding wounded. "It's cool. It's mysterious."

"Well, you're certainly that."

"I haven't asked your name." He said, suddenly sounding young and giddy, like a small boy about to go on an adventure.

"May," I said. I stuck out my hand to shake, somewhere in the air in front of me. I wasn't sure if he'd moved or not.

"May," he said, sounding more like the little boy, full of excitement. " It's a pleasure to meet you, May." He shook my hand. He had large, rough hands, like he was a child hiding inside a grown up's body.

"Shall we go inside?" He asked.

I nodded, and held out my keys. "I lost count when you interrupted me. It's number 18b, with a red door. You'll have to help me."

Suddenly he held my arm very tenderly and looped it through his own, like an old fashioned gentlemen. The material of his jacket was rough, like tweed.

"Come along, May. Let's get you some tea."

We were sat at the kitchen table, sipping at tea. Well, I was sipping. He was slurping with the most horrifying sound of a wet hoover.

"May," he said, and left it hanging for a moment. "What would you say if I told I wasn't from here."

"I'd definitely believe you." He sounded Southern, very Queen's own. He couldn't possibly be a Brummy.

"Not from Earth either."

I thought about it for a second. His behaviour had been very peculiar, so had his mannerisms and I thought about his high pitched electrical screw driver.

"I'd probably believe that too."

"And what if I said there was a whole giant universe beyond Earth full of different races and powers and technologies and empires?"

I thought about Brian Cox, for a second and Bill Bryson. The universe is so vast it is overwhelmingly likely that we are not alone, and if The Doctor was from a different planet then why couldn't there be even more other planets?

"I suppose I could believe that as well."

"Good girl," he said, and slurped his tea.

"Because one of those different races from a different planet," he continued, " is after you."

I frowned. My heart leapt up again, this time in fear.

"What do you mean? What race?"

"They're called The Weeping Angels, and May, I'm so so sorry. So very sorry to do this, but they're surrounding your house right now. We need to leave before they can get you again."

"Again?!" I exclaimed, truly afraid and confused this time.

The Doctor grabbed my hand and pulled me towards my front door. He yanked it open and stopped.

"Now you can't see them because you're blind, so I'll have to see them for you." He switched on the whining screwdriver again. "They're not at full strength yet but you'll still have to be quick. Do you know how many steps it is down your front path?"

"Nine." I said. "Good girl." He squeezed my hand. "Turn right at the end of the path, then take twelve paces. You'll reach a box." He took my free hand and folded a key in my palm. "Open it with this, and wait for me inside. You're going to have to be very brave with me, May, but I know you can do it. Go now. Nine paces, right, then take twelve. I'll meet you in the box."

I didn't have time to question him. I ran. Nine, right, then twelve paces. I almost smashed straight into it. I fumbled for the key and went inside.