As the doctor and Martha were invited in, under suspicion, Martha sat on a chair in the waiting room while the doctor paced up and down, up and down.
"Will you stop that?" asked Martha, annoyed.
"Oh…sorry" replied the doctor, also sitting down. Soon after, the heavy doors were opened, and a woman and a maid entered.
"Hello, and who might you two be?" asked the stern looking woman with tied back black hair and a plain dress, "travelers?" she queried, looking at the Doctor and Martha's strange clothes.
"Ah…yes, you could say that, I'm the doctor, this is Martha Jones" replied the doctor, "Do you mind if we could-"The Doctor was interrupted by a maid, rushing down the banister, "It's you-know who, ma'am. Urgent attendance. He's crying like a banshee!" Her face was pale, yet flushed at the same time. The Doctor was intrigued, who are they talking about?
The woman, Mrs. Medlock, answered, "Yes, very well, Martha, You two-"she motioned to The Doctor and Martha, "- You're a doctor, aren't you?" she asked The Doctor.
"Well, yes, of sorts!" and with that he was literally pulled up the banister, and through the great, old house. Distinctively, a loud wailing noise crept down the corridor. When The Doctor and Martha got to the scene of the noise, a frail looking child lay under the covers of a double-poster bed. He was the source. The young boy didn't look sick, but simply frustrated.
A child as young as he, perhaps as young as ten, should not have been out of the sunshine for so long.
"Well, doctor…"
"Smith", replied the doctor hastily, "Doctor John Smith" He paced around the screeching child and looked at him, got out his glasses and surveyed him again. The doctor sighed, and looked at Martha the maid and Mrs. Medlock, "He's perfectly fine!" exclaimed the doctor, looking at the boy, "What's your name?"
"Colin" replied the boy, stopping the screaming, "Colin Craven, sir, and I'm not fine!" Colin started to whine and scream for the umpteenth time.
"All you need, Colin, is some LIGHT!" exclaimed the doctor, gleefully, he jumped up and drew the heavy curtains next to the bed, to his shock and horror, the windows were boarded up.
WHAT?" exclaimed the doctor, turning to Mrs. Medlock, "you boarded up his windows?" he stood, glaring at her from behind his glasses, which glinted in the small amount of light still visible from through the boards, "why? I don't think a small boy such as Colin could climb out the window!"
"Certainly not. He is a cripple. He never stops his consistent wailing!" exclaimed Mrs. Medlock.
"She's right, sir. I'm crippled. I have a lump on my back, see?" he turned around and the doctor could see a small bruise in the upper of his back. The doctor saw it, and raised his eyebrows, "I've never seen anything like it" muttered the doctor, "That, Mrs. Medlock, is no bruise" The doctor took off his glasses and placed them in one of his large pockets, "That type of mark could not have been made by anyone on this earth"
"Doctor Smith, stop your incessant talk" cried Mrs. Medlock, "You are a doctor of Philosophy, or Astrology, I see…" she looked at him, and the doctor just looked at Colin's back.
"Mrs. Medlock, that was made by something else…. Something you, possibly maybe even me, have never seen before"