Here is chapter 12! Thanks for reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting!
Please enjoy! And, here is what happened last time...:
I put my hair up in a ponytail and run down the stairs. I grab my backpack, meeting Clara outside the TARDIS doors.
"See yah, Doc!" I yell.
"No more before school trips," Clara mumbles to me.
"Fine," I laugh. I look behind me to see the blue box fading in, then out, the sound making music to my ears.
Chapter 12
"I know that, Clara!" I growl at her, walking towards the TARDIS.
"But, it's dangerous," she argues.
"Of course it is!" I spin around to her, now walking backwards. "That's why I do it." I wink at her and push the doors open. "Doctor!" I call his name with a smile.
No one answers.
"Doctor?" I ask, cautiously.
"Boo!" he shoots his head from under the walkway, his face poking through the railing. I jump at the sudden outburst and clutch as my heart.
"Gosh, you scared me," I breathe heavily.
Clara follows in after me, "What happened?"
"The Doctor is being immature again," I groan.
The Doctor mimics my face by curling his lip and crossing his eyes. I glare at him and he huffs at me. "Now!" He claps his hands together and runs up the stairs to the console. "Ghosts! Do you like ghosts?" He points me.
"I guess."
His shoulders fall in disappointment. "What about you, Clara?"
"Yeah," she smiles. "I love a good ghost story."
"Good," he rubs his hands together. "Good, good," he repeats. He skips around the console and presses buttons, then pulls the lever.
The TARDIS lands with its normal jolts, and we run out. Rain is poring down on my face, and Clara opens an umbrella.
"Of course," I laugh. "Normal ghost story setting. Creepy old house," I gesture to the large mansion just in front of us, "and rain with thunder and lightning."
"Got a point, there," Clara agrees with me, holding the umbrella over me and herself.
The Doctor scurries under with us and we walk up the staircase at the same speed, careful not to step in puddles or walk out of the protection. The Doctor approaches the door and knocks on the door with loud pounds. When no one answers, he tries again.
We hear the handle and the door creaking, so the Doctor hides behind the second door. The door suddenly opens, and he pops out, shouting "Boo!" like he did to me.
The people behind the door jump, their breathes sharp.
"Hello!" he greets them, laughing. Lightning flashes from behind us. "I'm looking for a ghost."
The man by the door takes a breath. "And you are?"
Clara steps out from behind the Doctor with the umbrella in her hands, "Ghostbusters."
I nudge her arm with a smile. The lightning cracks and the thunder booms above us and I clench my teeth and fists at the noise.
"I'm the Doctor," the Doctor introduces himself, showing his physic paper to the man.
"Doctor what?" the man asks.
"If you like," he has a disappointed look on his face.
"Aw," I pout. "He didn't ask it properly."
"Yes, that's Melanie," he gestures to me with the hand holding his paper. "And Clara." The Doctor pushes passed the man and runs down the hallway.
I smile to the man and pat his back as I walk by, "Don't worry." I whisper, "You get used to it."
"Ah, but you are very different," the Doctor says with excitement. He runs to the room at the end of the hallway, gesturing to the many screens on the tables.
The man and the woman behind him walk behind us to watch the Doctor with stern looks.
"Ha!" the Doctor points to the man. "You are Major Alec Palmer, member of the Baker Street Irregulars, the Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare, specialize in espionage, sabotage," he begins to whisper, "and reconnaissance behind enemy lines." He pulls away from Professor Palmer's ear and waves his hands in the air. "You're a talented watercolorist, professor of phycology and..." he pauses, "ghost hunter." He finishes with a smile and eyes bright with excitement.
He takes Pr. Palmer's hand and shakes his roughly, "Total pleasure," his smile is from ear to ear. "Massive."
"Actually, you're wrong," the woman says to the Doctor. "Pr. Palmer spent most of the war as a POW."
I watch their conversation, mainly impressed by the Doctor's knowledge.
"Actually, that's a lie told by a very brave man involved in many secret operations," the Doctor corrects her. He leans into Pr. Palmer's face again, "The type of man who keeps a Victoria Cross in a box in the attack, eh?"
I cross my arms and listen intently.
"But you know that," the Doctor continues talking again, but directing the conversation towards the woman, "because you're Emma Grayling." He walks towards her and grabs her shoulders, kissing the air by her cheeks.
I silently giggle to myself at Emma's face, who seems surprised.
"The Professor's companion."
"Assistant," she corrects, looking awkwardly at the ground.
The Doctor turns back to Pr. Palmer, "Its 1974. You're the assistant and 'non-objective equipment'," he makes quotation marks in the air. "Meaning psychic," he says to us.
"Getting that," Clara answers, touching the tech on the tables. "Bless you, though."
I give my thumbs up to him, and he pats Pr. Palmer on the shoulder.
"Relax, Emma," the Professor says to his assistant. "He is military intelligence. So," he starts the conversation up again. "What is all this in aid of?"
The Doctor is standing by me, and Clara is sitting with her feet dangling from the table. The Doctor smiles at them, "Health & Safety. Yeah, the Ministry got wind of what's going on down here... Sent me to check that everything's in order."
"They don't have the right," Pr. Palmer interjects. "And she is too young," he points to me.
"I'm working a special case with the Doctor," I lie. "I'm one of the best." I cross my arms and lean up against the tables, smirking at the man.
"And don't worry, governor, I'll be out of here in five minutes," the Doctor says, turning back to the equipment. "Oh! Oh look!" he snaps his fingers at the screens. "Oh, lovely, the ACR99821." The Doctor joins Clara by the table. He sits down and starts to toggle with the switches. "Oh, bliss. Nice action on the toggle switches. You know, I do love a toggle switch."
He stops playing with the switches and adjusts his position in the chair. "Actually, I like the word 'toggle'. Nice noun, excellent verb," he chuckles.
Clara reaches to play with the machines at the Doctor had done, but he slaps the top of her hand. "Oi, don't mess with the settings."
He stands up and pulls out his sonic, scanning the two people and reading the results.
"What's that?" Pr. Palmer asks.
"Gadget. Health & Safety. Classified, I'm afraid," he walks towards the entrance to another hallway.
Pr. Palmer looks at me, and I shrug with a sarcastic smile. "You know," the Doctor continues, "while the back room boffins work out a few kinks." He scans the dark hallway, and reads the sonic again.
"What's it telling you?" Emma asks.
"It's telling me that you haven't been exposed to any life threatening transmundane emanations."
I walk over to Clara, who is now in the center of the room next to Emma and the Professor. I watch the Doctor as he spins around, "So," he claps, "where's the ghost? Huh?" He walks over to the table and grabs a candle holder, holding it up to his face. "Show me the ghost..." he says in a voice like a whisper.
At that sentence, there is a loud thud, almost like knocking above us. I flinch at the quick sound, but the Doctor just chuckles. "It's ghost time!"
"Do you think there is really a ghost?" I whisper to Clara. We are following the Doctor with his lit candles down the dark hallways. He is in a deep, and aggressive conversation with the Professor.
"I don't know," she whispers back, laughing. "But it's interesting."
"This is my house, Doctor," I hear Pr. Palmer shouts angrily. "And it belongs to me!"
Clara pauses behind the Professor, "This is actually your house?"
"It is," he simply answers.
Clara chuckles, then goes back to her point, "Sorry. You went to the bank and said, 'You know that gigantic old haunted house on the moors? The one where dossers are too scared to doss in, the one the birds are too scared to fly over?'" Her tone is surprised, and has a hint of humor to it. "And you said, 'I would like to buy it, please, with my money.'"
"Yes, I did, actually," he stutters, staring at the Doctor, who is close to his face.
"That's incredibly brave," Clara finishes. There is a door creak behind me, and Clara and I both turn to look at it.
"Listen Major," the Doctor says in a low voice to the Professor. I look back at Emma, who is staring at us with disgusted eyes, and I awkwardly smile at her. "We just need to know what's going on here."
"For the Ministry?" Palmer tries to pry.
"You know I can't answer that."
There is a short pause, then Palmer gives in. "Very well. Follow me."
The Doctor's face is only visible in the small amount of candle light, but I can see just a faint glint of excitement in his eye.
Lightning flashes as Palmer leads us down the hallway and into a large room. He slowly lights the candles that are placed on all the tables. There is a large cork board with pictures and notes pinned to it. He walks up to it and fixes some of the photos and grabs some notes off the table. He pins some by the pictures, then turns to us as we enter the room.
Clara and Emma sit down next to a table filled with drinks and alcohols. The Doctor walks to the corner of the room and takes a "selfie" with the camera, holding his hand out in the air with an awkward smile. Clara is talking with Emma as he walks into their vision and grabs a jar of milk.
I watch Palmer put more pictures and notes onto the cork board. "So," I put my finger to my chin, "how long has this ghost been around?"
Palmer looks at me with intense eyes. He spins the cork board to face the Doctor and the two women sitting on the chairs. "Do you, uh, care to have a look?"
The Doctor places the milk jug back onto the table and walks towards the board. Clara and Emma stand up, following him.
"Caliburn House is over 400 years old, but she has been around much longer," Palmer looks at the board.
The Doctor is examining the pictures. I look up and down, reading the messy notes.
"The Caliburn Gast," Palmer gestures to a picture that shows a white figure, holding up its see-through hand to the camera with old pictures hanging on the walls behind her. "She is mentioned in ancient Saxon poetry and parish folk tales. The Wraith of the Lady. The Maiden in the Dark," he pauses. "The Witch of the Well."
All the pictures haunt my vision, and when I close my eyes, I can still see the white figure of the ghost, her mouth wide open in a silent scream. I gulp down a lump in my throat as I scan over the chilling photos.
"Is she real?" Clara asks, coming from behind the Doctor. "Like, actually real?"
"Oh, she's real," Palmer answers without hesitation. "In the 17th century, a local clergyman saw her. He wrote that, 'Her presence was accompanied by a dreadful knocking, as if the Devil himself demanded entry'."
There is silence for a moment as we all stare at the board in complete awe. Palmer continues to explain the records, "During the war, American airmen stationed here. Left offerings of tin Spam. The tins were found in 1965 bricked up in the servants' pantry, along with a number of handwritten notes, appeals to the Gast." Palmer itches his chin. He reaches his hand to one of the notes. He reads it out loud, "'For the love of God, stop screaming'."
I examine the pictures with pure fright.
"She never changes," Clara speaks up again. The Doctor realizes her point and moves to the table. "The angle's different, the framing, but she's always in exactly the same position. Why is that?"
The Doctor grabs the candle holder and brings it closer to the board, squinting his eyes at all the evidence pinned to the cork.
"We don't know," Palmer answers. "She's an objective phenomenon. But objective recording equipment can't detect her."
"Without the presence of a powerful psychic," the Doctor pieces together the rest of the puzzle.
"Absolutely," Palmer says, taking off his glasses. "Very well done."
I can't take my eyes off the pictures. In some, her mouth is open so wide its as if she has no jaw, and her chin is just dropping to the floor. Her hand is held up to the camera, and her eyes are dark and fearful.
"She knows I'm here," Emma gasps. "I can feel her... calling out to me."
"What's she saying?" Clara asks.
Emma breathes sharply, "Help me."
And there it is! Chapter 12! I hope you enjoyed it, and the next chapter to come!
Here is what will happen soon... STAY TUNED! ;D
"Aw! It's a fox!"
"How do sharks make babies?"
"Do not hear the Whisper men, whatever you may do..."
"You didn't even say goodbye!"
"Eh, not me. Me!"
