A/N: So some updates :( It's plagiarism. And it's a bad news, good news, bad news, good news thing...
Bad news: Right as I was posting my last chapter for Angel I became aware of someone who plagiarized my Star Wars series, yes both stories were stolen. And this was done so blatantly that they didn't even bother to change the OC's name. Amira-Tal, Neeva, they all appeared on quotev on an anonymous account. I posted screenshots on my tumblr of it, requested help reporting it, and updated the last chapter to reflect the news. I reported the story and left a comment on both stories requesting they remove it. Instead they removed my comments. I posted comments again, and they disabled the comments. They were aware I knew of them stealing my work and continued to ignore it, not even being respectful enough to take it down.
Good news: Either the website or the plagiarizer did take the stories down sometime yesterday afternoon! Which was a weight off my chest.
Bad news: I was then made aware on tumblr of another plagiarism, this time of my Star Trek story Ad Victoriam. I went to wattpad to examine the possible plagiarism and found that roundabout 50 percent was original, but the rest was mine. Word for word, not counting movie dialogue, and that portions of my work had been removed (such as internal thoughts or descriptions) but the rest still posted by this user. I debated contacting them to request they remove it and edit it, but this has not worked well for me in the past and there are clear signs that they had my chapter, went through it, took parts out, and posted what was left as their own :( This is confirmed in inconsistencies between the two stories such as a moment where Kirk is grinning smugly when he has no context to be in the plagiarizing story but DOES in my work due to them removing a chunk of my chapter. This is also seen in punctuation choices (they opt for sometimes using periods in quotes "I like dogs." she said, when I never do and use only commas even though it's not entirely correct and their story goes from swapping to only commas during my segments and back). Even if 75 percent ended up being theirs, that would mean 25 percent was still MINE with no credit given. Original lines/dialogue/description were included which is also evidence of the plagiarism. Luckily it is just 1 chapter so far.
Good news: The story which I posted evidence of on my tumblr's plagiarizers page has been removed. I don't know if it was the site or the user who removed it, but it has been taken down now.
I originally posted this chapter with a request to help report the latest story, but I am removing that now and reposting this chapter as the piece has been taken down. But this still marks 25 times and 8 of my 19 OC series that have been plagiarized by now and that's just the ones I'm aware of at the moment :(
-Sigh- It just never ends does it? :(
~8~
Mummy on the Orient Express: Final Countdowns
Clara frowned as she worked on the lock to the strong room, pulling and tugging on the wires of the panel. Maisie may have been able to get the door open from one side, but now they were rather trapped and needed to get out from the other side. She didn't want to risk breaking this panel in case it just locked them in so much that not even the sonic could get them out. She knew, worst case, Angel could teleport in there for them or fly the TARDIS to land around them and then move them out…but she also didn't want to have to make the Time Lords do that.
She was SURE she could work out a way. She had the memories of a Time Lady, a Time Agent, and a genius junior entertainment officer in her head, somewhere, it must be in there how to rewire the panel. She just…had to be very careful.
"Do you know what you're doing?" Maisie asked her, watching her struggle.
"Nope," she could admit, it looked familiar but there wasn't a solid picture in her head of what to do just yet, "But I do need to be slightly more skilled than a high-heeled shoe."
Maisie chuckled at that, feeling a bit embarrassed now that they were trapped, but she soon fell quiet and contemplative, "Do you ever wish bad things on people?"
"Oh, yeah," Clara said absently, twisting two wires together, "All the time. Whoever designed this door, for a start."
Maisie nodded, thoughtful, "She wasn't really my mum. She just made me call her that. She was my gran. Do you know why I wanted to see her body?"
Clara stopped working, tense now as she turned to face the woman, sincerely hoping that it was for the reason she was thinking...though Maisie's voice and tone made her reconsider that, "Because you...loved her very much and were missing her?"
Maisie snorted lightly, "You obviously never met her. No, I just felt really guilty. Like I'd been picturing her dying for years. Like a daydream. Not really meaning it. At least, I don't think I did. But now, it just feels like I made this happen."
Clara nodded slowly, understanding. She had had a number of talks with Angel over their travels about her visions and how they worked and if she was ever worried that she created the future just by seeing it, or that she changed things for the worse by trying to stop what she saw. The woman had admitted that, when she was younger, she would dream sometimes, not as powerfully or frequently as now. Every so often, she'd dream something…and then see it happen and she would fret endlessly that she had somehow caused it to happen by dreaming it. That she wasn't seeing the future, she was seeing something she wanted to happen and then it did.
Her mother had been the only one to know of her dreams, to reassure her it was just a dream.
Angel knew now that it wasn't, but back then it had been what she'd needed to hear.
She knew the Time Lady also regretted, now that she had hindsight, that she had never said anything to anyone else about her abilities. Visionaries were trained, taught, they practiced what they could do and learned from others who knew what to do. Angel didn't have any of that now, she was working it out as she went. What could she see or hear? Why did she see it specifically when she did? Why didn't she see everything? How far into the future could she see?
There was no one to teach her except her own experiences and experiments.
On one hand, Angel was partly relieved she hadn't been taught. SO many Visionaries on Gallifrey tended to go nutty near the end, driven mad by what they saw. They were used by the High Council, forced to look where other Time Lords avoided looking. It was damaging to look on purpose, to strain their abilities to look that far ahead to try to find the certain future or examine the possible ones for the best course of action. On the other hand, it would have been less frightening to know what to expect or be taught tricks and tips to help her.
And there was no one around to teach her how to discern which futures HAD to happen, not as fixed points, but to avoid worse futures. Like with River Song. Angel had told her about the woman, what happened, how she came to be. Angel had seen Amy and Rory lose their child to Kovarian and tried to save the girl…in the end, it had just made everything so much worse. River's life had been harsher than it would have been, being human now and not part-Time Lord like the Silence had once hoped, River had nearly not been born, and Tailor had been taken from them instead.
Just because Angel had tried to help.
She knew Angel still felt enormous guilt for the hand she'd played in all of it, she had created a worse future by altering what she had seen.
She shook her head and moved over to Maisie's side, putting an arm around her shoulder, the woman growing more distraught the longer the silence lasted, "Hey, listen. You didn't do anything wrong. Difficult people, they can make you feel...all sorts of things," she nearly huffed out a laugh as she thought about the times she wanted to punch the Doctor in the face, he was THE most difficult person in the world…unless you were Angel or Tailor, then he was a big old softy wrapped around their fingers, "But you didn't do it. You didn't kill her. She just...died."
"Are you sure about that?" Maisie asked quietly, like she wanted to believe it but couldn't.
Clara nodded, before her gaze drifted around the room to a large sarcophagus-like object, like a cross between that and an iron maiden, standing at the end of the room. She moved to stand, going back to the panel, she was getting the creeps being around that thing and wanted to get out.
She'd give herself five more minutes of trying before getting the Time Lords involved.
~8~
Angel and the Doctor followed after Captain Quell as he strode through the corridors of the train, not about to let the man just walk off after what they'd seen, what Angel had felt. It hadn't been a vision, it hadn't been a sensation of something about to happen, she'd felt what Stumpy was feeling as he felt it, his fear, his terror, his panic, the chill of the freezer, the grip of the Foretold's hand on her head…
She had felt his rising tension when no one believed what he was seeing for they couldn't see the mummy.
His emotions had been so heightened, so powerful, she'd felt it all the way in the lounge car.
"I think we need to talk," the Doctor confronted the man, none too pleased with what his Mate had endured.
He could have ignored it, had it been just Mrs. Pitt, the woman so old she truly COULD have just had an episode and died. He might have even been able to convince himself that that Stumpy fellow had died of a heart attack too, with enormous effort. But he would NOT ignore what his Mate had felt while it happened, and he knew she would not ignore that a human had felt such turbulent emotions before dying.
And he knew his daughter would be furious with him if he ushered them away without trying to save the humans should the mummy attack again.
He'd be furious with himself as well.
"This matter does not concern the passengers," Quell began.
The Doctor reached out a hand to grab the man's arm, turning him so sharply that the man stumbled into the wall, "I'm not a passenger," he told the man, his expression grim and dangerous, "I'm your worst nightmare."
Angel reached out a hand on his arm, knowing his Mating instinct was on the verge of acting up now that there was a true and present danger to his Mate and child in the vicinity. But she was not in danger right that very moment, nor was their daughter, he needed to be calm or the humans would panic…and she had seen what humans on a capsule could do to each other when hysteria was high. This may not be Midnight, but the situation was too similar. A creature they couldn't see causing panic and fear.
The Doctor took a single calming breath at her action, and yanked the psychic paper out of his pocket to nearly shove in the man's face.
"A mystery shopper," Quell's eyes widened, "Oh, great…"
The Doctor blinked at that, momentarily startled out of his mounting rage at how utterly ridiculous it was that he should say he was the man's worst nightmare only for that to turn out to be a mystery shopper.
"Really?" he pulled the paper back, looking at it and then at Angel.
"I can't see it, my love," she reminded him, a bit disappointed. She never had been able to see the paper with her own eyes. Through his, yes, but not her own.
"Yes, well, genius," he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to her hair.
"Psychic," she countered firmly of the belief that that was the only reason she couldn't see it, psychic canceled out psychic.
"Thief," he pointed to himself, before seeming to remember that Quell was still RIGHT there and he had a ridiculous nightmare, "That's your worst nightmare?" he had to ask the man, of all the pudding brained things to be afraid of. He huffed to himself and shook his head, "Ok, I'm a mystery shopper. I could do with an extra pillow and I'm very disappointed with your breakfast bar."
"And the random deaths that have occurred," Angel added, knowing he could get on a tangent about all the things he didn't like about something quite easily.
"Yes," the Doctor snapped his fingers, putting the paper away, "And all of the dying."
Quell looked around at the doors to the sleeping compartments and sighed, "This is not a conversation to be had here," he told them, "Come with me."
~8~
There were quite a number of framed certificates on the wall of Quell's office, the Doctor noted, as he and Angel stood in the room, the man pouring himself a drink.
"This is not exactly within your job description…" Quell began, though he knew he would probably have to talk to the man more about the deaths so he would know, as a mystery shopper, that this was NOT typical for a journey on the Orient Express.
"Come on, Captain," the Doctor turned to face him, "Where would we all be if we all followed our job descriptions? Hmm? Though," he paused, considering it, "Angel's very good at hers," he offered the woman a smile.
Angel rolled her eyes good-naturedly, "As are you, my love. Being a Doctor suits you."
He grinned at that, knowing that she was also thinking of their daughter too, sure she would live up to her title as well in time. He glanced over at Quell, "It's a good question, isn't it?" he asked the man, "In your case, you'd be doing something instead of climbing inside a bottle."
Quell gave him a firm look, "I have followed the procedure for accidental death to the letter," he informed them, sitting behind his desk.
"Yes," the Doctor snorted, "I'm sure you have. And I'm sure you do just enough of your job to avoid complaints."
Quell glared at him, "You don't know anything about me."
The Doctor nodded, "Maybe," before he glanced at Angel, "Angel?"
Angel looked at the man, empathetic, "You were wounded in battle," she told the man, "Before being honorably discharged," she tilted her head, her expression growing more sad, "You've fought for so long, you're just...so tired," Quell looked away, but she continued, "You wanted peace. So you took this job, because you thought it would be simple, until you could retire."
"Well, I'm sorry," the Doctor crossed his arms as he eyed the man, "As of today, that dream is over."
"That was quite rude, my love," Angel murmured to him, he was quite harsh as well.
The Doctor just shrugged, sometimes you had to be hard and rude to get people to fight back.
"There is no evidence of any attack or other parties..." Quell began to defend himself.
"Yes, let's just sit around and wait for the evidence while the bodies pile up," the Doctor rolled his eyes, "Or, here's a crazy thought...we could do something to stop it," he watched the man closely, but Quell just gave him a blank look that had him shaking his head, "Why are we even talking to you?" he huffed, before turning to walk out of the room.
Angel could only offer the man an apologetic look before going after the Doctor. She knew exactly why he had been talking to Quell instead of looking elsewhere for clues…because if he spoke to that man, he wouldn't have to bother Clara or wake Tailor. He really had been hoping the man would help them sort this out before breakfast…some humans were just…tired.
"Hello Mr. Perkins," Angel spoke as they stepped out of the room to see the man standing there, just outside the office, with his arms filled with rolls of paper.
"Passenger manifest, plan of the train, and a list of stops for the past six months," he stated, handing the papers off, as requested.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Perkins," Angel smiled at him, helping to take some of the documents.
"Quick work, Perkins," the Doctor complimented, before giving him a side-eyed look, "Maybe too quick."
"Yes, sir, I'm obviously the mummy," Perkins deadpanned, "Or perhaps I was already looking into this."
Angel smiled, "It's the second one," she told the Doctor, knowing how suspicious he could be.
The Doctor let out a small huff of mock-disappointment, couldn't it be easy, just this once? Where the enemy was clear cut and obvious? He shook his head, nodding his head to the side in a gesture to follow him, before they walked off.
~8~
Clara had given up working on the panel, and was giving herself another five minutes to come up with something before she reached out to the Time Lords. It was one of the brief moments where she felt…inadequate. Often she didn't know what was going on or what alien was after them or why they were running (HOW had the Doctor insulted some species this time?), but there was always something going on to distract her of that. She could do as instructed, because the Doctor knew how to defeat the enemy, and not feel bad for not working it out herself.
But in times like these, where there WAS time, to sit and think…and still not have a plan or way out, was when she felt disappointed in herself. She saw so much and learned so much from the Time Lords, she had memories of geniuses in her head…but couldn't undo a lock?
She let out a little huff at the thought, wishing Angel was there, she would at least make her feel less stupid, the Doctor would undoubtedly make some offhand comment that would make her want to slap him and not realize he'd done it.
"Those people you were with," Maisie began, if just for something to talk about, "What are they like? The Doctor and his wife? They have a daughter too, yes?"
Clara smiled at the thought of them, "They're great," she looked at Maisie, "He's my brother," she added…because that might be the last time she'd be able to say it to someone who wasn't 'in the family' already.
"You don't look alike," Maisie commented.
"Not all siblings do," Clara shrugged, before offering, "Adopted," if it would help the woman believe it.
"And you…live with them?"
"No," she shook her head, "I've got my own place, my own life," she didn't know if she could add her own 'family' just yet, she didn't know where she stood with Danny yet, "We just…we travel together, a lot. He's an…explorer, always wanting to see more and learn more. Angel keeps him out of too much trouble and Tailor keeps him from doing things that are too dangerous. They invite me with them," she sighed, "We've had a good run."
"You're…not travelling with them anymore?" Maisie frowned. Clara had sounded heartbroken about it…so why stop?
"No," Clara swallowed hard, "This is a...a goodbye to the good times. Our last."
Maisie gave her an odd look, before exaggeratedly looking around the room they were trapped in, "Were the good times all like this?"
Clara chuckled heartily at that, "Now that you mention it..." she trailed off, growing a little more solemn, "That's why we're stopping," she admitted, needing to talk to someone that wasn't a Time Lord about the truth behind her decision, "My...suitor," she supplied, guessing Maisie might not know what a boyfriend was, she seemed old-fashioned like that, "He…he's not happy about it, about how the good times end up being like this."
"He told you to stop traveling," Maisie guessed.
"In a way," Clara sighed, "It's not like I really WANT to stop, but…I have a real chance at something with him and…and I love him, a lot, I want to have a life with him. And…and if I have to give this up to have it, shouldn't I?"
Maisie was quiet, looking at Clara thoughtfully, "Would they want you to give him up?"
"What?"
"Your brother, his family," Maisie clarified, "Would they want you to give up your suitor for them?"
"No," Clara said simply, they'd already proven it. When she asked to leave, they would let her, because she said it would make her happy. They just wanted her happy, whether travelling with them or living on Earth.
"Then it doesn't seem fair," Maisie said simply, "Shouldn't you pick what will make YOU happiest?"
Clara was silent at that.
She'd been looking at it from Danny's point of view, so guilty for how she'd kept the travels from him, didn't share all the wonders she'd seen. He'd been so hurt and so angry at the lies. When he'd said he couldn't handle all this, she'd thought…then maybe it was right that she give it up. Because she'd had it and kept it from him and maybe it was only fair that she give it up so she could keep HIM. Danny would probably be very happy if she gave up the travelling even if it made her happy.
She hadn't even really thought about how the Time Lords wouldn't be happy if she gave up Danny, because they knew he also made her happy.
~8~
The Doctor, Angel, Moorhouse, and Perkins gathered around a security camera in the engineer's room, watching footage of the dining car, where Mrs. Pitt had passed on, the Doctor with a stopwatch in his hand, timing it based on when Angel had indicated he should start. Mrs. Pitt had seen the mummy before she'd spoken about it, and he wanted to make sure he got the exact second she saw it.
"No!" Mrs. Pitt was crying out, "No! Get it out! Argh!"
Angel looked away as the woman slumped down, her life snuffed out by the Foretold. She hated death.
"66 seconds," the Doctor announced as he stopped the watch, "It fits the myth," he glanced at the others, "Did you see the lights flicker?"
Moorhouse nodded, though Perkins was the one to answer, "Yeah, the lights went in the kitchen as well just before the chef saw it."
"In all of the accounts, conventional weapons have no effect on the Foretold," Moorhouse stated, "It's immortal, unstoppable...unkillable."
Perkins didn't seem amused, turning to the Doctor, "Can we get a new expert?"
The Doctor just chuckled, "We've faced immortal, unstoppable, unkillable enemies in the past. And do you know what happened to them?" he asked the men, before nodding at Angel, "She did."
Angel shook her head at him, ignoring the wide-eyed, albeit skeptical, looks Moorhouse and Perkins turned on her, "I'm fairly certain, YOU have stopped more enemies than I did, my love."
He grinned a tad darkly at that, a warmth filling him, soothing the Mating instinct at the knowledge that he HAD. HE had stopped worse enemies than this in the past, HE had kept his Mate and daughter safe then and he would again now. He just had to work out how.
~8~
Angel smiled lightly as she placed a blanket over Perkins and Moorhouse, the two men having fallen asleep where they were sitting. They were either bored of the Doctor peering over all the papers in surprising silence, or truly just tired. It WAS still quite late, or early, depending how one looked at it, and they had been awake for some time now. They deserved to rest when they could. She looked up when she felt eyes on her to see the Doctor watching her, his own smile soft and fond.
"An angel," he murmured, "I always say it."
"It's not angelic to have basic human decency," she countered easily, moving back over to his side, winding her arm through one of his and looking down at the papers scattered around.
He let out a long sigh, sliding a hand down his face, "It can't be helped," he muttered, looking to her apologetically, as though it was his fault what was going to come next.
Angel shook her head, knowing what he was worried about. The more he learned about the Foretold, the grimmer it became, the more complicated, and the more dangerous. As much as he had hoped to keep this quiet from Clara and Tailor, it was becoming too much of a threat to keep them in the dark any longer. They needed to know what was happening, even if it ruined Clara's last trip.
She moved over to the wall, holding up the phone that was attached to it to the Doctor. He moved to her side, sonicing it to connect to Clara's mobile. The train compartments, the sleeping ones, didn't have phones in them. They would have to go wake up Tailor themselves, but Clara had her mobile. The poor daughter had been trying to talk them into giving her a mobile, citing she was old enough and that it would be helpful if they were ever separated on an adventure. Which, in hindsight, had been the WRONG thing to say to the Doctor who had promptly refused to listen because, in his mind, there was no future where he would ever allow himself to be separated from his daughter while there was a danger without him knowing exactly where she was at any given time.
"Doctor!" Clara's voice gasped in his ear, echoing in Angel's mind.
"Time for breakfast," he cheered, trying to open with some good news before moving to the bad, that was how humans did it right? He shrugged, "Knowing this train, it'll taste amazing."
"Doctor, please, I'm in trouble…"
"Can't even get that right. Bad food on trains is traditional."
"Doctor, please, just..."
"Listen, there's been another mummy murder. So our last hurrah just became a bit more interesting."
"I'm trapped!" Clara cut in with a huff.
"What?" the Doctor gaped.
Angel merely let out a light laugh, leaning in to move the phone from his grip by his ear, to held up slightly more so she could speak into it, "ARE you?" she asked.
~8~
In the storeroom compartment, Clara frowned at her mobile, before hurrying to her feet to try the door once more.
She hadn't even gotten her hand anywhere near the control panel when it slid open to reveal Tailor on the other side, holding the heeled shoe in one hand and a regular old screwdriver in the other.
Tailor blinked, almost startled to see them, "Um…has someone lost a shoe?"
Clara just jumped through the doorway, Maisie hurrying out after her, to hug Tailor tightly to her, "What are you doing here?!" she exclaimed.
Tailor shrugged, "I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep, went to explore the train."
Clara laughed, "You wandered off?"
Tailor gave her a wink, "Don't tell dad."
"Too late," the Doctor's voice spoke behind them as he and Angel appeared in the baggage car in a flash of gold, the man not looking pleased…so much so that Tailor winced and moved to hide behind her aunt, "That is not going to save you, sweetheart."
Tailor sighed, before stepping to Clara's side, "I had a bad feeling so I followed it," she told him, "I saw the shoe in the panel and tried to fix it. Must have tripped the door because it opened and Aunt Clara was there with Miss Maisie."
Angel, contrary to the Doctor, smiled at her daughter and moved to hug her from the side, "Very well done, beautiful."
Tailor beamed at that, pleased.
The Doctor let out a resigned huff, knowing he couldn't rightly chastise his daughter for doing something the girl's mother had been doing at the beginning as well. He wanted to encourage her sensations and abilities, not make her block them out, "Next time, Tailor," he began, and the girl knew it was serious by how he used her title, "You wait till one of us is with you before you wander. Understood?"
"But I couldn't wait," Tailor pointed out, "I felt like something had happened to Aunt Clara."
"Then you contact us to come to you."
"How?" Tailor argued lightly, crossing her arms, "You and mum wandered off first. If I can't wander to find Aunt Clara, how could I wander to find you?"
The Doctor opened his mouth like he was going to argue…when it fell flat because she did have quite a good point.
"Now if I had a mobile…" Tailor began.
"Oh, look," the Doctor cut in with a clearing of his throat, moving past her to the storeroom, eyeing the large sarcophagus beyond, "What's this?"
Tailor rolled her eyes, knowing it was his way of avoiding the topic, giving her mother a look when Angel could only chuckle beside her.
"Something wrong, my love?" Angel called, when he began to smack the sonic on his open palm.
"The stupid sonic screwdriver's not working," he grumbled.
Clara frowned, "What do you mean it's not working? Why?"
"I don't know. Some sort of suppression field, I would guess. And it has to be a guess because, as I say, the stupid sonic screwdriver's not working," he moved to flick it to a different setting, trying that instead.
"Aunt Clara," Tailor began, looking at the woman, "What were you doing in the storeroom in the first place?"
"Same as you," Clara sighed, "I was looking for them," she nodded her head between Angel and the Doctor.
The Doctor flicked the sonic again, growing more frustrated with the lack of functionality…when there was a sudden beeping, hiss noise coming from the sarcophagus, apparently one of the settings managing to unlock it as it slowly began to creak open.
"How did you do that?" Maisie asked, her eyes wide.
Before any of them could answer, the lights above them began to flicker.
"Angel?" the Doctor called to her, his gaze on the sarcophagus.
She nodded, knowing he wanted her to keep track of the next 66 seconds, trusting her sense of time more than his stopwatch.
Clara and Tailor took cautious steps towards the storeroom once more, following the Doctor as he approached the sarcophagus. Angel glanced at the door behind her as Maisie made her way after them too, though the woman kept closer to the wall and door than the middle of the room like the others.
A soft red light began to shine out of the sarcophagus, the doors widening…to reveal something wrapped in plastic bubble wrap within.
"What?" the Doctor and Tailor said as one.
Clara eyed the contents skeptically, "It's…full of bubble wrap?"
"I thought that didn't exist back then," Maisie remarked.
The Doctor frowned deeply, glancing up at the lights, "But the lights…"
"All of you, hide," Angel called out, "Captain Quell is coming."
Tailor reacted quickly, knowing they shouldn't be caught there, being passengers (for Maisie) and stowaways (for the rest of them). If the Captain saw them loitering about and going through a secure room like the storeroom, they could be in serious trouble, locked away and unable to help stop whatever it was that was happening. She may not know what was going on, but she knew it was something serious if her parents didn't want to get caught. She reached out and took Clara's arm, tugging her back and to the side of the wall so anyone in the baggage car wouldn't see them, Maisie moving to hide on the other side of the door wall.
The Doctor had just dashed past them, jumping to Angel's side right as Quell walked through the door with two other guards at his side.
Angel glanced at the Doctor, '41 seconds,' she warned him in his mind.
He looked at her sharply, knowing what she meant even beyond the countdown. He had thought the Foretold would come out of the coffin when the lights went off. When the creature hadn't, he'd been confused because the lights had been a sign of its arrival but it wasn't there to defend itself, so maybe it had just been lights flickering. By Angel telling him the time, she was telling him she was sensing something WAS happening with the creature, just not yet and not in that room.
"Doctor," Quell glared at the man, gesturing for one of the guards to aim his gun at them, "Move away from the door. I spoke to head office. There is no mystery shopper. You and your family are not even on the passenger list!"
The Doctor rolled his eyes as the first guard and Quell himself stepped forward to handcuff their arms behind their backs. As though Angel wouldn't be able to get them out with the snap of a finger. But for now…he went along with it. He couldn't keep fighting against Quell at every turn while trying to stop this creature, he needed the man on his side, helping them, or this would take forever.
"I'm going to have to mark you down for this," he told the man as he was shoved on by him.
"You are not a mystery shopper," the man huffed, gesturing for the first guard to escort Angel along with them, "For all I know, you're the one behind the killings."
"He's a Doctor," Angel remarked as they were led out of the car, "He'd be the first one trying to stop them, don't you think?"
"Oh, come on, Captain," the Doctor huffed, "How many people have to die before you stop looking the other way?"
Tailor held onto Clara's arm, tugging her back when the girl moved to peek around the corner of the door to see if the guards had left, shaking her head to wait a moment longer. She held up 4 fingers, ticking them down every second until they heard the door shut firmly. Clara turned then, looking around, and sighing, "They're gone."
Tailor moved over to the baggage door, pushing on the panel, before turning to them, "But they've locked us in."
Clara nodded, "Makes sense," she remarked, rubbing her head, "They can't exactly lock the storeroom right now."
Maisie glanced over at the broken panel and winced, "Sorry."
Tailor offered her a smile, "It's alright," she told the woman.
"How is it alright? We're trapped!"
"No, we're not," Tailor insisted lightly, "We're just…inconveniently circumstanced."
Clara could only shake her head at the girl, "You are truly your father's daughter."
Tailor beamed and gave a mock bow for it.
~8~
'17 seconds,' Angel warned, tensing beside the Doctor.
It was then that they heard someone fire their gun in the lounge car ahead, and ran for it after Quell. They dashed in to see one of the guards had his gun out, was shooting at something across the room, those patrons mingling about the car having dove for cover to avoid any errant bullets.
"Get back!" the man was shouting, "Stay back!"
'12,' Angel called as the man fell to the floor, stumbling back, but still firing at something only he could see. She bit her lip and looked around. She could sense the man's fear and panic, she could even sense something else in the room, but she couldn't see it. In the worst way it comforted her just slightly, that there was something that couldn't be seen, but she could still sense it somewhat. It made her feel better about the Doctor's fear of an enemy coming about one day that no one could see or that she couldn't sense. She COULD sense even this one.
But it was odd, in a way, she could only sense it when it appeared, when the 66 seconds began but not before or after.
'9,' she swallowed hard, Quell running towards the man.
"What do you think you're doing, man?" Quell demanded.
But the guard was too terrified, screaming out, "Stop!" begging the Foretold that he could see from reaching for his head.
"Get up now!" Quell stormed over, "That's an order!"
Angel had to look away, burying her face in the Doctor's shoulder as she felt the man's fear spike, feeling something touching either side of her own head, moments before the sensation vanished and the guard slumped to the ground.
'0,' this time it was the Doctor who knew the time, his face grim and serious, turning his face to press a kiss to the top of Angel's hair, hoping it would comfort her as their hands were still bound. With Quell as angry and suspicious as he was now, them magically freeing themselves would not help them.
He watched as the train's doctor ran forward to check the guard, but they all knew there would be no pulse to be found. The poor man turned to glance at Quell, shaking his head in confirmation. Quell removed his hat in honor for the fallen man, Moorhouse, who had run in with Perkins, the two having heard the gunshots when they'd come looking for the two Time Lords, reached out to pick up the man's fallen gun, handing it to Quell.
"It turns out it's three," Quell muttered, answering the Doctor's question as he passed the gun to another guard. He glanced at the Time Lord, "The amount of people that had to die before I stopped looking the other way," he gestured for the guard still holding Angel's arm to remove their handcuffs.
"Thank you," the Doctor offered the man, a single politeness, before he turned to pull Angel into his arms.
It wasn't just the fear and panic she felt from these men, she felt them dying as well.
'I think I'm going to be sick if this doesn't stop soon,' she warned in his mind, a hand coming to rest on her stomach as it clenched and churned with upset. He could only press another kiss to her hair in a silent promise to try and stop it faster.
"Same as the others?" Perkins spoke, approaching them slowly, though he eyed Angel a little oddly. He'd woken in the engineering room, hearing the man on the phone with someone, only to start awake when they suddenly disappeared in a flash of golden light. He'd immediately smacked Moorhouse's arm till he jerked awake, half-dragging the man out of the room to find where they'd got to when they heard the bullets sounding.
Angel sniffled lightly, nodding as she pulled away from the Doctor in time to see two guards gently carrying the body out of the room. She looked around at the handful of people gathered in the car, having all just come down for breakfast and gotten shot at instead.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the Doctor called out to them, "Could we have a moment of your time, please? There's a monster on this train that can only be seen by those about to die."
Angel closed her eyes and shook her head, he probably could have phrased it better…but even she could understand the need for the bluntness. These people needed to know they were in danger, and what to expect, they needed to know someone was working to help them but they would all need to work together to do so.
"If you do see it," he continued, "You will have exactly 66 seconds left in which to live. But that isn't even the strangest thing. Do you know what is?" he snapped a finger and pointed at Angel.
"You," Angel told them, "All of you are experts in something, something that could help identify what this phenomena is."
He nodded, "Experts in alien biology, mythology, physics. If I was putting together a team to analyze this thing, I'd pick you. And I think somebody has. Someone of immense power and influence has orchestrated this whole trip," he looked around as though he could spot just who that might be.
Angel caught the way he glanced at her, as though she would point them out when he couldn't, and he had no doubt she could. She shook her head, silently telling him whoever it was was not currently ON the train.
"Someone who, I have no doubt, is listening to us right now," he added, glancing at the security cameras, the speakers near the top of the train walls, "So, are you going to step out from behind the curtain and give us our orders?"
"The engines," Perkins realized with a start, "They've stopped."
They all looked up as the lights flickered, the 1920s decorations all disappearing, taking its place was a modern styled laboratory of sorts.
"And the facade drops away because what use are a bunch of scientists without a lab?" the Doctor sighed, when he noticed a handful of passengers disappearing.
"Teleporter?" Perkins guessed.
"No," Angel answered instead. She had a sense of everyone in the room…except from those who vanished.
"Hard light holograms," the Doctor agreed, "They were never really here. Fake passengers to make up the numbers."
"That was my best guard," Quell muttered, still partly in shock that he'd lost a man just because some barmy individual wanted answers about something.
Angel looked up as a ting sounded above them.
"Good morning, everyone," the trains computer system spoke, "Around the room, you will find a variety of scientific equipment. Your goal is to ascertain the Foretold's true nature, probe for weaknesses with a view to capture, after which we will reverse engineer its abilities. Isn't this exciting?"
The Doctor frowned as the others began to examine the equipment, catching something else in the words spoke, "You said 'capture,' implying that you can't control this thing. And yet somehow you got it on board. How?"
"There is an artifact, an ancient scroll. I have highlighted it for your convenience," the lights changed so a spotlight was now shining on a scroll in a display case fixed into the wall at the end of the room, "For reasons currently unknown, the Foretold appears in the vicinity of this artifact."
"And kills at regular intervals."
"Then just maybe we should throw this thing out in the airlock," Quell suggested, striding towards it.
"No, don't!" Angel gasped, tugging him back before he could reach for the scroll.
The Doctor held up a hand, reaching out to pick up a pen from one of the tables, flicking it at the case, which buzzed with electricity, a force field of some sort sending it flying back at them with a sizzle.
"Looks like they've thought of that," Perkins remarked.
"What if we say no?" Moorhouse demanded, "Down tools. Refuse to work."
"That is your choice, of course," the computer spoke, "But it would be very upsetting were you all to die at the hands of the Foretold."
"So, hurry up before it kills you," Perkins finished the sentiment.
Angel shook her head, "Even if they try to work on this, how can they when they can't see what they're studying?"
"We don't even know what the species is," the Doctor agreed, only for the lights to flicker above them. He grew serious and grim once more, knowing what it meant, "Perkins," he called, tossing the man the stopwatch, not wanting to have to make Angel keep track of the time for something like this. He'd still been partly hoping it wasn't the Foretold last time, now he knew it was he wouldn't make her count down to someone's death, "Start the clock."
They were all quiet a moment, before Angel spun around to look at Moorhouse, feeling a spike of terrible fear shoot out of him.
"Approximately 1.8 meters tall," the man began to detail, maintaining as calm a head as he could, wanting to help the others before it was too late to do anything. Right now, with the creature across the room, he could do at least that, "Actually, seeing it in the flesh isn't nearly as rewarding as I thought it might be."
Angel's eyes filled with tears at the thought of the man, who had studied myths because he loved them, being killed by one, especially with him trying so desperately to help them.
"What can you see?" the Doctor and Perkins began to follow Moorhouse as he backed away from the Foretold, "Details."
Angel glanced between where he was and where he was looking, feeling him trying to tramp down his utter terror as long as possible.
"Yes," the man swallowed, "Yes, of course. Of course. Well, it just looks like...a man in bandages. I…"
"What kind of bandages? Old? New?"
"Old."
"Whole? Ragged?"
"Ragged. Falling off in places. I don't know what you want me to tell you."
"Listen!" the Doctor tried to keep him focused, "You can see it. We can't. Tell us what you can see. Even the smallest detail might help save the next one."
"The next one?" Moorhouse stuttered, "You mean...you can't save me?"
Angel's hearts broke at that, knowing there was 37 seconds left, and the man was trying so hard…but he was so afraid.
"Well, that is implied, isn't it?" the Doctor spoke, feeling like he was wasting precious time, "Yes, this is probably the end for you. But make it count! Details, please!"
"Erm...flesh...some of it is visible..." Moorhouse struggled.
"30 seconds," Perkins counted down.
"Leathery. Ancient looking. Peat bog preserved."
"Keep talking!" the Doctor urged, "Don't waste this chance!"
He needed to know, he needed to know everything possible about the creature, if he could, if he could just work it out, be faster than the creature, put it together sooner…he could stop this…
"I want to bargain for my life," Moorhouse said instead.
Angel closed her eyes tightly at that, at the utter breaking in his voice.
"What?" the Doctor blinked.
"Some of the myths say if you find the right word, make the right offer, it lets you go…"
Angel swallowed hard, opening her eyes and shaking her head. There were 18 seconds left, and the man was so, so afraid…she couldn't bear it.
"This is not a myth," the Doctor told him, 'This is real. Forget your superstitions. Tell us what you can see!"
"This is my life!" the man snapped, "My death! I'm going to fight for it how I want! I give you..." he looked at the mummy.
"10 seconds," Perkins murmured.
Angel took a breath and began to make her way to Moorhouse's side, not sure if it would work, what she was planning, but hoping beyond hope that it would.
"…my soul," the man offered the Foretold, "I confess all sins. I give you all my worldly goods. Only, please, please, please…" he gasped suddenly, the Foretold reaching out to touch his head as he struggled back, his fear overwhelming…
When...a warmth began to seep into him, a calm, a comfort, a…reassurance. He looked to the side, despite the Foretold gripping his head, to see Angel had taken his hand, was holding it tightly, as though she wanted him to know he wasn't alone.
In his final moments, he felt the fear flutter away, felt the pain recede from his mind, as he just…felt like he was falling asleep though he knew it was far more final a sleep than any.
Angel lurched forward, feeling the man slump, the Foretold having taken his life, but she caught him before he could fall, the Doctor lunging to help her move to rest the man on the floor.
"0," Perkins whispered, grim.
The Doctor, however, wasn't looking at the man, but at Angel, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open. He hadn't felt it till the very end, hadn't realized what she was going to do till she'd already taken Moorhouse's hand. She couldn't stop it, not even Angel could do it yet, but…she hadn't wanted the man to die in fear or in pain, so she'd done what she could to make it as painless as possible…like falling asleep instead of being cut off in agony. She had managed to take her empathic psychic abilities and transmit a feeling to someone else instead of just feeling what everyone else felt. He always felt comforted when she was near, she had a way of calming him, reassuring him, just her presence worked wonders on others...he'd never seen it so concentrated towards one person before.
'You are truly an angel, Nella,' he whispered in her mind.
But she could only look back at him in tears, 'Not if I couldn't stop this.'
'I couldn't either,' he reminded her, 'And I'm a Doctor, it's my job.'
He only barely managed to keep the briefest flittering of a thought from reaching her mind, casting it out of his own before it could even be formulated. In that moment, for the smallest fraction of a second, he had connected her with an Angel of Death, come to take others to the next life, to comfort them in their passing.
But no, that was NOT his Angel, not his Mate, she was such a woman of light and life, the Life Bringer her, and he would not torment her with such a thought either, knowing it would break her hearts to be associated with something she herself hated to witness, death.
"We apologize for any distress you may have just experienced," the computerized voice cut through the room, "Grief counselling is available on request. On the bright side, I'm sure you've all collected a lot of data. Well done, everyone!"
Perkins looked up at the speakers where the voice was coming from, before noticing the cameras beside it, "It's recording every death."
"Of course it is," the Doctor spoke, his voice hoarse, "That's why we're here...to study our own demise," he took a breath, reaching out a hand to help Angel to her feet but not letting go of it once they stood, "So, let's get to work. Come on. Chop, chop!"
The humans moved to grab a lab coat from a pile, putting it on and doing just that, getting to work.
~8~
The humans were hard at work, everyone checking all the information they had, scouring all the documents that had been provided for them, when Angel moved to a table and pick up the phone resting on it just as soon as it rang.
"Hello Clara," she spoke into it.
"What's wrong?" was Clara's immediate question.
Angel felt a small smile crack on her face, also hearing Tailor in the background asking what happened, what was wrong, "The Foretold has been active."
It was all she needed to say for them to understand what had happened, that another person had died.
"I'm sorry."
Angel nodded to herself, handing the phone to the Doctor to speak to them before sitting down and closing her eyes, trying to get some sort of sense about what might happen next, some sort of vision. She felt rather stressed though, an odd thing for her given her faith in the Doctor and her belief in her visions, but there was just something inside her that was more alarmed about this adventure than others. It always made it difficult to focus when she was worried.
The Doctor pressed the phone to his ear, his eyes on Angel as she tried to relax enough to see something, reaching out to take her hand in comfort as he spoke to them, "Has anything happened with you?"
"Besides being trapped in the baggage car?" Clara huffed, "No."
"We went through some stuff here, dad," Tailor called, her voice just slightly distant as she wasn't the one speaking into the phone, "There were a bunch of papers in the sarcophagus."
"Were there?"
"First things first," Clara spoke, "The sarcophagus is actually a secure stasis unit."
"Yes. It's where they want us to put the Foretold if we capture it."
"That would have been good to know," she grumbled, "Save us some time and a lecture from Tailor about how stasis units work."
The Doctor chuckled at that, smiling a little more when she saw how Angel cracked a smile at the mention of their daughter doing so, "Anything else?"
"Please terminate your call and return to work," the computer system called out.
Clara ignored it though, "We have some paperwork. Passenger manifests from other ships. Maisie recognized a couple of the names."
"Dad," Tailor spoke, her voice hesitant, "The other ships…they're missing now. Whatever's happening…this isn't the first time it has."
"Please terminate your call and return to work," the computer repeated.
"There's also some progress reports," Tailor added, "Tell him about the reports."
"Yeah," Clara did just that, "'The Gloriana' spent three days getting picked off by the Foretold. All died. Performance marked as 'poor.'"
The Doctor frowned, looking over at Angel when he felt her grip his hand tighter, a frown on her face as it scrunched up..
~8~
It was a difficult thing to do, for the chefs in the kitchen car, to go about their business as though one of their fellow staff hadn't keeled over only hours ago. But they had work to do and they needed to paid.
"Warning..." the computer system suddenly rang out, "Decompression imminent. Please vacate the area."
~8~
"'The Valiant Heart,'" Clara was saying, "42 crew, four died. Performance...'promising.'"
Angel gasped, her eyes snapping open with a shout of, "No!" before she disappeared in a flash of gold.
The Doctor had lunged forward with an "Angel!" on his lips, but missed her, the woman vanishing before his eyes, leaving him in the lounge alone…
~8~
The chefs began to scream and cry out as the kitchen car began to shake, struggling for footing, alarms beginning to beep in a signal that there was something terribly wrong with the air pressure…
There was a noise of explosion behind them, sending them to their knees, before a golden light flared around the room…
~8~
"Please terminate your call and return to work," the computer spoke again, drawing the attention of Quell and a handful of other passengers towards the Doctor. Though their gazes quickly drifted past him and to the windows where they could see kitchen utensils starting to float past…
"I think you should do as it says," Quell called to the Doctor, who was still frozen in place where he'd reached for Angel.
He didn't even hesitate to end the call with Clara, not caring how rude it was, his hearts racing at the sight of the utensils and kitchen equipment joining it…his hearts seizing at the fear of seeing more than just that, at seeing the kitchen staff about to float by…
The humans jumped back when a flare of golden light flashed in the middle of the room and suddenly there were a handful more people scattered about, on their knees, looking as though they had ducked for cover, Angel standing in the middle of them.
The Doctor flew to her side, pulling her into his arms as the flare of the Vortex dimmed and receded back inside her.
"Impressive," the computer's voice spoke, "But if you are disobedient again, I will decompress another area containing less valuable passengers and I do not think you can save everyone on this train, Miss."
Angel glared up at the speakers, "LESS valuable passengers?" she shook her head, "There is no such thing. EVERY life has the same value!"
That seemed to spark something in the Doctor's mind as he pulled away from her, "How does it choose?"
Perkins frowned, "Well, I'm assuming qualifications..."
"No," he shook his head, wincing at the thought of anyone trying to figure out who might be 'less valuable' than another, Angel was right, every life was worth the same, that wasn't what he was talking about though. He meant the exact individual life that would come next, "Not the computer, the Foretold. How does it choose who to kill? We've assumed it's random. What if it's not?" he looked at the other humans, "I want full histories on all the victims. Medical, social, personal."
"Well done," the computer spoke.
But the Doctor shot it a glare of his own, "Don't," he snapped, "You endangered my Mate with your little games. You don't want to know what I've done for less harms against her in the past."
Angel just wound her arms around his waist in a tight hug. She hadn't been able to save the victims of the Foretold, but at least she had been able to save the victims of the train's computer. And she knew, if it even tried to decompress another car, she would do it again, until there was only their car left if need be.
The others would be safe from the computer with her there, now they just had to keep everyone safe from the Foretold.
And if there was one person she trusted to be able to do it, it was the Doctor.
A/N: Lol, Tailor's getting a little bit of attitude about being left behind :) She's such a teenager, wanting a mobile. I remember those days. I had to use the payphone in our town's library (which was thankfully just across the street from our high school) to call my parents to pick me up after activities and clubs. It wasn't till I was...gosh, 16 that I got this bulky cell phone with a pull out antenna and limited minutes so I could only use it to call home for a ride. And the only reason I got one was because I was in a few different clubs that met on different days and not scheduled weekly things like when you're younger and can plan it out. That was...2004? 2005? something like that...and now I feel super old that it's been 15 years since I got my first phone. Thank goodness they're smaller now :)
Whether Tailor eventually gets her mobile is yet to be seen ;)
But poor Angel, this trip is putting her through the wringer on an emotional roller coaster :( To be someone who hates death and has, for the most part, been able to save others from untimely ones...and now be confronted with nothing but deaths she can't stop? :'( I cannot see the Doctor being happy about it, I see him just getting angrier and angrier the more she suffers :(
And Clara! She's just more and more conflicted about her choice. Maisie did have a good point, it's not fair to give up travelling because someone else wants you to when the people you travel with would never make you do the same. Sort of maybe puts a little perspective on who Clara should be keeping in her life, or maybe she'll ignore Maisie, we'll have to see }:)
On a lighter note, as I'm not posting a chapter tomorrow, I just wanted to take a moment to say Happy Mother's Day! To all you readers who might be mothers yourselves and to all of your own mothers out there, I wish everyone a very happy and safe day :)
Some notes on reviews...
I'll definitely have a better idea of if I go on to Jodie's run once I get through Billie's, I'm sort of in catch up mode so all my spare time is going to editing and prepping stories with not much time to watch :( But I'm hoping things will be better by summer at least and I can take some time to watch :)
I'm actually so sad I've fallen behind on my spin-offs, especially An Ancient Observer, we probably would have caught up to Danny by now and seen the TARDIS's thoughts :( I can say she's a little conflicted. She's not happy he was shouty, but she also can see ahead and what becomes of him too so it's hard to be angry at him knowing what she knows. We will definitely get a couple glimpses into her thoughts through Angel and Tailor in the future though ;)
You caught it! :D I was wondering if anyone would get the Monty Python reference :D Lol, one time in high school for my Latin class, for our finals, the teacher told us to take a myth, any myth, and retell it with a spin, like modernize it or set it in a different time, etc. So I rewrote the Jason and the Golden Fleece but as Monty Python's Holy Grail where instead of the Grail it's the Fleece. My teacher, I later found out, LOVES Monty Python and I got an extra credit point for that ;) Not that it really mattered though, for that class if you got an A through the year you didn't have to take the final. ...I was the only one who had an A average the entire year (highest average in the class actually) and still wanted to take the test. I'm a Latin nerd lol :)
I'm doing ok with the lockdown. I'm normally very introverted so not being expected to go out and interact with people is a relief to me. I'm not comfortable around strangers...unless they were readers because I don't consider any of my readers to be strangers lol...so I'm happier being home. The only downside is that my job requires me to go into our office twice a week. I usually go in Tuesdays and Fridays, but there was a conflict this week and I ended up there the last two days :/ I know I'm very lucky to still have a job so I'm not complaining, I just get super anxious because I either have to take 2 trains to get there or drive and walk 20 minutes so neither really helps me feel safe with everything going on :/ Still, I'm thankful to have a job during this crisis. I worry more for my parents and siblings as they are more frontline workers (my job is 'essential' in the sense that the company is essential, but I've recently been authorized to work from home for the moment). My mom especially works in a hospital and so I basically freak out every single day for her :( She's doing her best to be safe though so I keep my fingers crossed she'll stay safe. I hope you are doing well and your family is safe too! And thank you for leaving a message about the plagiarism, it means a lot to me to know my readers have my back :')
That is very good news :D I'm not sure if the plagiarizer or the site took it down, but it's a relief that they were removed. I will admit I struggled a bit with not letting it put me off my writing. Dealing with plagiarism was not something I missed when I wasn't able to post :/ And the Star Wars one especially hurt because of how that plagiarizer responded, by deleting comments, the disabling comments, instead of just being respectful and taking down the stories :( I don't demand apologies from people or for them to broadcast what they've done, just quietly remove their story before the reports and (hopefully) site do it for them :( And then to feel that relief of it being gone and then have another plagiarism come up :( I really didn't want to even look at my computer but I don't want to fall behind and I love my stories and characters and readers and you all deserve for the stories to continue, especially in times like these, anything I can do to make someone's day even a tiny bit brighter I'll do. So I put on my brave face and edited the chapter and posted it :)