Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, Torchwood, or Twilight.
A/N: This is a challenge from the lovely Gingey on the fantastic Warrior's Wish. The challenge was a three way crossover, it had to include shippings, it had to have the main characters and the main villans, and it had to have something with great importance related to the word 'Incandescent'.
I saw a flash of white light before my eyes, to quick to distinguish what it was. I frowned and glanced around my room, but it was too dark to make out anything. Beside me, the clock on my nightstand read 2:00. I groaned and laid my head back on my pillow. I hadn't gotten much sleep in the past week, and I was hallucinating as a result. Bloody perfect. No, bloody fantastic. Long live the memories of my Doctor. In three hours I would be up in the shower, getting ready for my job at Torchwood. How I ended up working for the place that condemned me to hell, I'd never know.
There was another white flash, and I closed my eyes. I tried my best to convince myself I wasn't losing my sanity (wasn't hallucinating a sign…?). There was heavy breathing by my ear, but no other sound in my room besides my racing heart. I slowly looked to my right to see the source of the chilling sound, but there was nothing there. A shiver ran down my spine as I turned back, eyes closed. Not only was I hallucinating, but I was imagining things too.
I shoved off my comforter and got up. A little too quickly, apparently, because I was notoriously dizzy. I stood still for a moment, my hand on my forehead. A couple of seconds passed, and I realized that it wasn't going to go away. I shook my head once, and made my way to the bathroom. A shower was all I needed to get me back to my senses.
The door creaked when I opened it. I flinched at the sudden brightness of the lights as I flipped the light switch. Without looking in the mirror (I knew I looked appalling, it was two in the morning after all), I turned on the shower. I quickly undressed out of my pajamas and into the cold shower. Cold showers always do the trick.
About half an hour later I turned off the water. I got out, suppressing a shiver in the suddenly freezing air. After 30 minutes under ice-cold water, you'd think you wouldn't have to deal with the after-shower air. But it was as cold as ever. I toweled myself dry, and glanced at my reflection as I walked out of the room. Something wasn't right. I backtracked my steps to the bathroom and gasped when I caught sight into the mirror.
My skin was ghostly pale, almost white. When I went to bed just four hours ago, I was as tan as ever. My eyes, usually honey-colored, were black. Black, was that a normal color for eyes? I shakily raised a hand to my cheek. Was this really me? I couldn't be the owner of this ivory reflection. I gasped as my skin touched; I was stone cold.
And then I woke up.
It was just a dream, I thought relieved. But the relief turnedto horror as quickly as it came. There was cold breathing on my neck, and hands gripping my wrist. Someone was pinning me down. Slowly I opened my eyes, fearful for what I might discover once they were fully opened. A man, with ashen skin just like from my dream, was on top of me, his head down by my neck. Terror and rage coursed through my veins.
He seemed to sense my awakening.
"Good morning, gorgeous," He whispered menacingly into my ear. His voice was velvet.
"Who the hell are you?" I silently cursed my voice for being so shaky when I desperately needed it to stay strong.
He didn't answer, but I felt his mouth on my neck. I shuddered in disgust and fury.
"Get offa me!" I yelled, hoping against hope that someone would hear and help me. How I regretted moving out of Pete and Jackie's mansion.
"Why would I do that?" He asked and scraped his teeth across my neck. I shuddered again. "Mmm, I haven't eaten in so long. And you smell so very delicious."
Suddenly, he had something cold and flat in his hands. In a lightning quick movement, his hand, with the object, was up by my neck and his head was backed away. I realized with sudden horrification that it was a knife.
Rose Tyler had been to the end of the world, stopped an invasion on Downing Street, almost got sucked into a black hole, and beaten the daleks and cybermen, and she was going to get killed in her flat by a psycho rapist. How typical.
"Mmm," He said again, breathing in deeply. Trembling, I looked up at his face. I was determined not to let him know how petrified I really was.
Oh god, it was bad enough getting raped, but why did he have to be so gorgeous? His face was ashen like the rest of his body, and his reddish-brown hair was swept aside in an effortless but beautiful way. His eyes were black and menacing, and full of hunger. He had deep, purple bags under his eyes, and his marble lips were curved upward into a twisted grin.
"Enjoying the view?" His voice was silky and seducing, the kind you hear about in romance novels. I whimpered softly, he heard and chuckled softly. "The great Rose Tyler, Defender of Earth, at my mercy. Imagine that. What, do you think, would that scum Doctor say?"
If I wasn't already pissed before, I was now. Rage coursed through my veins. How dare he talk about the Doctor so lowly? Everything I'd learned from high school to my time on the TARDIS to Torchwood about self-defense raced through my mind, but I couldn't remember any of it. It was there, but then again it wasn't, truth but no logic. I was the daughter of Jackie Tyler, though, and I raised my hand to give him the famous Tyler slap. But before I could so much as twitch my wrist, his hand, with the knife, was holding it down.
"Don't try to get away," He said calmly, but threatening, "Because you won't."
"Get the bloody hell out of here." I spat.
"Ooh, did I make the big Bad Wolf angry?" The man asked, amused, "You know what, I like you. You're fun to aggravate."
I flipped him off.
He chuckled again, "Like I said before, so much fun. I'm gonna let you live." In another lightning quick movement, his hand was at my neck again.
"I thought you were going to let me live,"
"Oh, don't worry, I will," I tried to move my hand again, but he shot my a deadly glare, "I will if you don't resist."
The knife penetrated my skin lightly, but it quickly came out again. I gasped at the pain. He breathed in,
"You know, I didn't have to use your neck. But it's so… traditional." He leaned into my neck, and I suddenly felt a new wound form. And it burned like hell. Tears clouded my eyes and I cried out in pain, and he watched me, entertained. I never was one for killing, but at that moment I wanted nothing more than to see him dead. And then, I realized, utterly horrified, that this man -thing- was sucking my blood.
And then everything went black.