Still in despair at the aftermath of his failed rescue, the Doctor put all of his determination into standing up and storming towards the nearest window. Slashing his screwdriver like a sword through the air, he took away the curtain of false weather from the glass and looked outwards and upwards. The storm, while still heavily attacking the sky, had calmed down.
It was morning again, according to the hotel. 'Good morning, Doctor,' the Reaper had said to him, and now he knew what he had meant.
''He's reset the hotel,'' the Doctor snarled.
''What for?'' asked Amy.
''He saw what I did to the satellites,'' said the Doctor, still staring curiously out of the window, ''he wants to slow me down.''
''He knows you're trying to send him to the wrong dimension?'' questioned Amy.
The Doctor simply turned, smiled and shuffled away. He broke into a quick jog, gallanting between the ghostly guests. Amy took his lead but stopped halfway down the corridor as the Doctor made it all the way to a window on the other side. He did the same thing: beheld the sights with inquisitive scrutiny.
''What are you getting so happy about?'' shouted Amy. The Doctor started to run back to the first window but was forced to come to a skidding halt by the intimidating glare of his companion, stood with her arms fiercely crossed in the middle of the hallway. All it took was a raise of her eyebrows to and the Doctor smiled weakly before speaking up.
''I can't activate the dimension change while the hotel is still halfway through the program,'' he said excitedly, ''I need to wait until the storm is at its peak. Not sure why. Inter-dimensional travel: if it makes sense it won't work properly. Rule of the universe number thirty-two. Never understood that one but it's easily my favourite.''
''Well I still don't understand why that's something to smile about,'' Amy stated.
''It's not,'' affirmed the Doctor, ''but adding a safeguard is. He only thinks he has time to fix it, but I can just take his toys from him.''
With a skip in his step he launched himself through the hallway, back across to the first window of which he'd removed the mirage. Sliding it open, he stuck his head out and looked up to the muddled, half-stormy half-clear sky.
''I can just reach the satellites from here!'' he exclaimed, half of his face apparently soaking wet. He punched the air, screwdriver drawn at the ready, and sent the whirring noise echoing upwards, transmitting to the satellites above.
''Got to love the attention to detail, Amy!'' he cried back into the hall. ''The ship's alive and the hotel with it, but the centrepiece is all machine. They built the dimensional stuff right into the middle, from the bottom of the elevator shaft all the way up to the dishes on the roof. They put a trap in their building at the cost of making it too much like a building; working satellites and all!''
The Doctor reeled himself back into the hall and motioned for Amy to come and see.
''I can transmit something all the way through the hotel,'' he finished, as Amy joined him in getting some fresh air. They looked up into the broken sky and watched on in astonishment as fragments of the storm windows fell away like shattered glass. They crumbled away piece by piece, vanishing into the clouds below and leaving a perfect atmosphere in their wake. It was enough to make the pair forget about all the death they were running away from, just for a moment.
''What's happening to it?'' quizzed Amy. Recoiling back through the window, she twirled around to see the same thing occurring to the hallway. The Doctor followed suit, mesmerized by the show he had activated, of which a clear view was given as the guests popped away one by one.
''I'm disintegrating the placebo drive so my rigged dimensional transporters will work,'' he bragged.
''Doesn't that mean we have to get out of here pretty quick than?'' said Amy, more stating a fact than asking a question.
''Probably, yeah,'' the Doctor agreed, but both of them continued to watch their world literally crumble around them.
''How quick?''
''Depends on how I took down the placebo drive. Either it continues on like this for a while, giving us about an hour before the liquid metal stuff melts back down and reforms the ship it came from…''
''Or…?''
The Doctor turned timidly back to face the window and anxiously looked up. In the distance, through one of the storm windows, a large black shape was growing larger as it came closer. Amy saw the Doctor peeking out of the window and fearfully did the same. Her eyes widened as she realised what was happening.
''Or… that,'' said the Doctor simply.
''Fairly quickly then?'' said Amy in a sarcastic calming voice.
''Not quite as quickly as running away from a herd of gazelle,'' began the Doctor, looking lethargically up towards the ceiling as Amy continued to gaze up at the sky, ''but definitely faster than a pack of raxillion.''
Amy's face went from passive worry to active panic.
''Doctor,'' she said, ''please tell me you're just using an expression that has no relevance whatsoever to the current situation.''
''I'm just using an expression that has no relevance whatsoever to the current situation,'' the Doctor replied nonchalantly.
''Now tell me how bad it really is,'' muttered Amelia.
''On a scale of one to bad,'' the Doctor started, ''pretty bad. The bad is wearing a dress.''
''Ooh, that does sound pretty,'' said Amy with a newfound confidence, whirling around to face the ceiling that was now crawling with vicious hellhounds, ''but those tails really don't go with that fur.''
They edged sneakily across the hallway, scuffling their feet across the gradually disappearing carpet. The raxillion eyed them savagely, but did not make a move beyond following their pace along the ceiling. Some of them up ahead of the Doctor and Amy clawed their way down the walls, preparing to round them off.
''Plan?'' requested Amy.
''Your turn,'' rebutted the Doctor.
''Hide until it goes away?''
''That's my plan.''
''Okay, I'll run and you distract them?''
''Alright, fine, I'll think of a plan.''
The Doctor pressed his hands together, held them over his head and rubbed them like he was warming them over a fire. There was a spark in his mind and it was lighting up. The raxillion snarled and started growing restless. The Doctor held his hands still for a moment or two, before bringing them crashing down to his sides.
The raxillion lunged.