Epilogue – The Doctor Lies
Rule one: once again, it had come into play.
Not out of choice, of course: no, if the Doctor had had his way then he would have told Amy and Rory what he had found at the monastery as soon as he could. Of course, that had slipped his mind: understandable if it's slowly turning to stone. However, even after that ordeal had finished the Time Lord neglected to tell his companions about the readings he had picked up while scanning the rift.
A groaning filled the monastery hall. Low, guttural, wheezing. It wasn't clear where it was coming from at first – sure enough though, the Blue Box that accompanied the noise faded into existence. The doors creaked open, and the Doctor disembarked his ship. Black boots crunched on the ruined monastery floor, emerald green trenchcoat flapping around his ankles. He stepped over the dusty pile of rocks that had once been the Cult's tyrannical leader – wincing as a stony eyeball shattered beneath his foot.
Creeeeeakk.
Almost at once the Sonic Screwdriver was in hand and he twirled, scanning area immediately surrounding him. Silence.
Creeeeeakk.
The Sonic's tip sprang forward and the Time Lord brought the device to eye-level. He stared at the numbers and insignias blinking on the dial: not noticing the shadow falling across his back.
WHUMP!
The Doctor hurtled across the room, landing awkwardly on his back. The Sonic flew from his grasp and landed metres away. The figure dashed sideways, snatching the Screwdriver up as he ran.
Groaning, the Doctor forced himself to his feet, readjusted his Stetson, and staggered forward in pursuit.
The figure seemed to tire quickly, and instead whirled round to face the Doctor. It thrust its free hand forward and lightning crackled towards him.
"Oh."
Once again, the Doctor was off his feet. As the ground rushed up to meet his face, the figure regarded the Sonic Screwdriver. Then, like a child disinterested in a Christmas present, it tossed it aside.
The Doctor squinted, trying to make out just who his assailant was. It was fairly tall, but shapeless: practically impossible to describe. It shimmered a bloody crimson, and dissipated. "Well," the Time Lord mumbled, brushing himself off. "I must say, I wasn't expecting that."
"Oh, I wasn't expecting that at all."
The Sonic Screwdriver beeped and buzzed from its socket on the TARDIS Console, as data was transferred to the monitor the Doctor was currently staring into. "But... No, it's got to be a faulty reading." He tapped the monitor repeatedly and the image blurred, but returned to clarity once again once the Doctor withdrew his hand.
"That's very, extremely, superbly bad." Doffing his Stetson, an impish grin sprung onto the Doctor's face. "Brilliant."
