After another half hour of tedious travel through the damp and dark sewers, even the Doctor was getting impatient. Worse, he felt himself getting paranoid. Every click and tick had him on edge, his light would often fly across the tunnel towards wherever the sound seemed to come from. Of course, there was never anything there.
The stream ran with an incessant hissing noise and the Doctor felt as if some giant monster would rise from it at any moment. He focused on the mystery at hand and relegated these dark thoughts to the back of his mind. He could only imagine how Clara was feeling.
For her part, Clara was taking this adventure rather well. She was quiet most of the time and didn't complain. But in reality she had been feeling exactly what the Doctor had been for quite some time. The tunnel's shadows had begun to seem like dark portals that any form of monster could pop out of. She was unconsciously looking behind her, checking for some unknown stalker.
She could tell that the Doctor was afraid. He nearly jumped whenever her sneakers scuffed the floor. His body shook slightly; he was visibly on edge. The light from his sonic screwdriver was unsteady as his hand shook.
Clara wondered if the Doctor knew, or had at least come up with a theory about, what was down there. She was totally lost as to what it could be; maybe it was fear clouding her mind. The garlic reminded her of something, but she couldn't think of what.
She dared to ask the Doctor. "What do you think is down here?"
"Nothing good." Was his reply, but he didn't stop or offer to turn around.
Clara followed him, she couldn't have told anyone exactly why she did, but she followed the Doctor. Perhaps, because she knew that he would save the day and that by his side was the safest place to be.
They continued on silently for a few more minutes. Suddenly, the Doctor cried. "Did you see that?" The next thing Clara knew, the Doctor had run on ahead of her.
Panic engulfed her as she ran to try and catch up with him, but there was little light without the sonic screwdriver next to her. "Doctor! Doctor!" She yelled as she ran. Her foot caught a crack in the ground and she nearly tripped, but she caught herself.
Clara ran faster, attempting to outrun the darkness. Finally, she saw the green glow of the sonic up ahead. It occurred to her that the Doctor had stopped running. Why? What or who was ahead? There was a slight inkling in the back of Clara's mind that told her to turn back, to ignore he curiosity and to simply turn around and run away. But of course, Clara wasn't a companion, because she easily gave up and certainly not, because she would leave the Doctor. Clara hurried to his side.
Standing jauntily in front of them now was a young-ish man, he looked to be in his mid-thirties. He had a rat's nest of wavy honey colored hair that wove a long tangled mess down to his shoulders. His features were sharp and angular, they seemed chiseled out of stone, but that may have been, because his skin was as pale as marble. He wore a coat, entirely unbuttoned showing the pale skin of his abdomen. This coat was of Victorian style, yet his pants were obviously modern jeans.
"Hello." The Doctor said in, what Clara thought was, a reserved way.
The figure didn't answer. Clara bent over and whispered to the Doctor. "Doctor, what's going on? Who is that?"
The Doctor didn't answer, he kept a steady gaze that was matched by the odd gentleman. Clara followed his gaze and found the man's unnatural blood-red eyes. She gave an involuntary gasp. She hadn't noticed his eyes before, she'd been distracted by the oddness of his dress, but now she realized how threatening the man looked. His eyes were like daggers, his hands had become tense weapons ready to attack, and even his unreadable mouth seemed to be plotting their downfall.
"I'm the Doctor." The Doctor said, his face had become as unreadable as the strangers.
"We know who you are." The man's voice was raspy, like nails against a chalkboard. "We smelt you as soon as you entered our domain. Even the garlic couldn't obscure your scent, time lord."
"You know who I am," The Doctor answered genially. ", but I don't know who you are."
"Doctor!" Clara tugged at the Doctor's sleeve, trying to get his attention. "He said we."
The Doctor ignored her, but she could see that he was afraid. His breath was deeper and more ragged. He kept telling her how old he was, but she had never seen it in the youthful man before now. His hands gripped the sonic screwdriver tightly, like he was afraid to let go.
"We do not give our names to your kinds." Hissed the man.
An outline appeared in the darkness behind the man. Clara squinted, trying to make out what had appeared. Clara was growing more nervous and she couldn't understand why the Doctor wasn't listening to her. We… the word kept buzzing through her mind. Who was this man? He was dangerous she could tell, even the Doctor was scared. Why couldn't she put this together? It should be obvious shouldn't it. The clues seemed to be right in front of her, but she couldn't figure out who this man was.
Then she noticed two dots on the man's neck. They were covered in rusty looking scabs and looked like they'd been painful. Suddenly, she realized who this man was and why the Doctor was so nervous. "Vampires." She whispered.