Radio B Breakfast

"Hello and you're listening to Radio B Breakfast!" Mark Abinash yelled, flicking the switch that played the jingle 'Radio B Breakfast' in a sing-song voice, "And now, all the way from the eighties, it's the Buggles with that classic hit!"
He pressed play and 'Video Killed the Radio Star' started to play, meaning that Mark could take a well-earned break. He took out a Kitkat bar and a bottle of Pepsi and relaxed for a bit, occasionally sipping his Pepsi every now and then.
He had been the host of Radio B Breakfast for eight years now and had been so successful thanks to the fact that he had learnt everything about being a radio show presenter from Alan Partridge.
Unfortunately though, the song soon ended and the focus was now back on him.

Kelly Stevenson, the producer of Radio B, was stood facing Mark from outside the recording booth, pleased at how successful the show was going. She'd popped out for a muffin and a flat white, as she'd been very peckish.
"And now let's see what messages you've been sending in." Mark announced, glancing at his computer and smiling, "Ellen from Appleton has said that she wants me to play 'Staying Alive' by the Bee Gees. You know what Ellen? I'll do exactly that!"
He pressed play and the familiar tones of 'Staying Alive' began to play. He then took his headphones off and noticed Kelly.
"How am I doing Kelly? What are the figures?" Mark asked, nibbling on his Kitkat.
"Well, good as usual. Not so good in southwest London though, perhaps could be a little bit more grime."
Mark raised his brown eyebrows.
"More grime? What's that supposed to mean? Should I swear?"
"No, Mark. It's what young people call rap music now."
"I see."

Mark had decided to take Kelly's advice and that had gone very well. The audience figures had shot up and Mark had ended his show on a high. But he had decided to watch the new presenter, Justin Walker, do his show. He just felt that Justin had a particular feel: something that made you want to stay near him.
"Hello, Radio B listeners, and welcome to the Justin Walker lunchtime show!" Justin cheered, accidentally playing the jingle for Mark's show and looking awkwardly at Kelly.
"Seems like he knows what he's doing." Mark sarcastically commented, before noticing that Justin had left an old pocket watch outside the recording booth. He felt drawn to it, as if a force of some sort was calling out to him. But he resisted it, for a while at least.
"Sorry about that listeners," Justin said, "I'll try not to make those sorts of errors in the future. For now though, it's time for a bit of Justin Timberlake!"
He pressed play and a song by Timberland began to play. Justin sighed and looked at Kelly.
"Please let the figures be good." he pleaded, only to receive a shaking head from Kelly.

The next day, Mark was back, presenting his breakfast show, only to notice that Justin was watching him from outside the recording booth.
"Now then, I believe we have a caller on the line." Mark announced, "Jess from Nottingham is with us today. How are things going Jess?"
"They're going well, Mark. Can I tell you a story?" Jess asked, her muffled voice coming through the speakers.
"Certainly."
But Mark couldn't hear Jess's story. All he could hear was a voice. It felt powerful and commanding, drawing him to the pocket watch he had stolen from Justin.
"I am the night and you will let me in." the voice whispered again and again, and only Mark could hear it.
"Mark? Mark?" Jess repeated, interrupting his thoughts.
"Sorry, just zoned out a bit. What was the story again?"

The incident yesterday didn't end well. Mark had been given a warning because of him not listening to a tragic story involving a cat and a can of baked beans, yet the voice from the pocket watch still called to him. It was as if it wanted him for something: it needed a host.
Justin was doing his show now and, remarkably, the audience figures were better than Mark's show. Justin had somehow managed to steal all of Mark's skills. The cheeky little pest.
"Let me in. Let me into your mind. My old body forgot about me. But you're obsessed with me, Mark. You're addicted to me." the voice said once again, "Let me in and all of your troubles will be solved."
Mark looked at Justin, then at Kelly and then at his right pocket. He reached into it and took out the pocket watch.
"Mark, what are you doing?" Kelly wondered, "Are you alright?"
"I'm setting myself free." Mark said with a smile, before opening the pocket watch: orange energy flooded into his eyes, transforming his mind into the mind of a Time Lord. He felt all his memories change yet his human memories remained. Another heart suddenly came into place where there had been only one before.
"Justin, call an ambulance!" Kelly yelled, looking at Mark in fear, as he grinned at her.
"Now this feels different. I don't think any Time Lord has been able to enter a pocket watch from one body and leave into another. But, then again, I'm not like any Time Lord." Mark said, advancing towards Kelly. She edged back, towards the recording booth door, curling her hands into fists.
"Mark, can you hear me? Something's gone wrong with you but don't worry, an ambulance is on its way."
"I'm not Mark. Not any more."
"Then who the hell are you?"
"I am the Count. And I am so very hungry."

The ambulance team entered the studio ten minutes later to find two corpses and a note, written in black ink. The note had three words on it which frightened everyone who read it from then onwards.
THEY TASTED GOOD.

THE END