Unto the Universe

Chapter Eight: The Hound of the Crack: House on the Moor

By Lumendea

…..

When the hound vanished, Rose had been braced for horrified gasps and refusals to believe what had happened. It had been the reaction of Charles Dickens and the Brothers Grimm after all, but Conan Doyle's eyes were wide with something closer to delight than fear. And instead of seeming alarmed and disbelieving, he looked excited.

"Did you see that, Robinson?" Conan Doyle laughed. "Goodness Bobbles, these three must be lucky. I've been hoping to catch a glimpse of something out here for over a week, and now it finally appears."

"It was a bit frightening, sir," Robinson answered. His voice was shaking a little as he stopped the carriage and rushed to calm the horse. It was tugging at the harness and looked moments from bolting. "I didn't see which way it went."

"Because it didn't leave on foot!" Conan Doyle was standing in the carriage now and jumped down back onto the moor before any of them could stop him. "Vanished, just like a ghost. There's a story here, no doubt about that."

"He's taking this well," Jack said to the Doctor as the writer kept looking around with eager eyes. "Not the reaction I was expecting."

"He's curious about spiritualism and the supernatural," the Doctor admitted. "Not so much at this time in his life, but later on in life, he was very serious about it."

"What?" Jack looked at the man in confusion. "Doesn't he write about a logical detective?"

"Yes, one of the odd humorous things of this time. The spiritualism movement will be major, especially after the coming war," the Doctor explained in a low voice. "Conan Doyle was very much into it, while his friend and famous magician Harry Houdini will renounce it over and over. The man who makes his living with magic tricks rejects such things, and the man who is famous for his observant and rational detective embraces it."

"As interesting as that is," Rose said urgently. "How is a neverwere here, Doctor?" Peering out into the moor, Rose tightened her coat around herself. The chill in the air was becoming worse, or it was just her imagination. "Could it really be the source of all the ghostly hound stories?"

"Probably not all, but that was a neverwere," the Doctor said. "And I'm not sure what to think about the fact that one is here." Shaking his head, the Doctor leaned out of the carriage. "But we best stick close to Conan Doyle."

The man in question was walking to the rocks where the hound had appeared. Robinson was urging caution and staying with the horse. The Doctor jumped out of the carriage, giving Robinson a small wave, and headed after Conan Doyle. Rose and Jack shared a look, and Jack sighed.

"Neverwere are what messed with my memory, right?"

"Yes."

"Great, just great." Jack forced a smile and climbed out of the carriage, offering a hand to Rose. "Dear, sister."

Rose took the offered hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "We won't let anything happen to you, Jack," Rose promised.

"Oh, Rose," Jack gave her a soft smile. "I know you'll try, but even you can't stop everything."

Jack looked like he wanted to argue, but there were other concerns. The Doctor was up at the stone with Conan Doyle. What he was looking for, Rose did not know. The wave of cold was the only warning Rose had before a snarl ripped through the quiet of the moor. Everyone froze in place and slowly turned their heads to look to the right. The hound had returned, its black fur glittering in the low light of the cloudy twilight. Rose glanced at Conan Doyle and Robinson, ready to summon her sword if the neverwere got too close.

"We need to leave," the Doctor said.

The horse was becoming restless, tugging at the harshness and whining fearfully. Robinson seemed to agree with the assessment and called Conan Doyle.

"Arthur!" Robinson shouted. "I know you're interested, but the horse is spooking!"

Thankfully, his friend seemed to get through to Conan Doyle because a moment later, the man was hurrying for the carriage alongside the Doctor.

"There was something there," Conan Doyle said. Excitement still filled his voice. "We all saw the hound, but there was nothing there to help it vanish like that!" He gestured at the approached hound. "And then it appeared in a new place!"

The carriage lurched forward, the horse taking off at a rapid pace. Gripping the side of the carriage, Rose peered back at the dog. Its ears were perked, and it was snarling. Then, it was after them, running after the carriage on long legs. The horse screamed, the sound making all the hairs on Rose's neck stand on end.

"There!" Jack shouted. "That house there, try to get to it!"

Rose looked forward. There was indeed a large manor house looming over the moor. Robinson didn't argue, and the horse was quick to turn off the main road. The village was nestled below, but the house was much closer, and Rose couldn't argue with not leading the neverwere into town. The hound howled behind them, the sound sending a shudder through Rose's body. The large house loomed above them, two stories tall and built of dark stone. Ivy had overtaken much of the walls, and a tall fence surrounded the property. The gate was open, and beyond it, Rose could see light spilling out of the front door.

"Hurry!" A voice shouted. Rose turned to see a man rushing down the drive of the house and towards the gate, waving them in. "Hurry!"

Another howl came from the hound as they got closer. Robinson was desperately trying to slow the horse with no luck. They burst through the open gate, and Rose turned to see the man slamming the gate shut in front of the hound. He jumped back at the beast lunged at them. Somehow, the neverwere stopped beyond the gate, and the man stumbled back.

The horse slowed. It didn't come to a complete stop, but it was enough for Rose. She jumped out of the carriage, her feet sliding on the loose stones of the drive, and turned to face the gate. Rose was sharply aware of the wind howling across the moor that stung her cheeks as it picked up. A hint of rain was beginning to seep into the air, warning of a storm. The neverwere was looking at them but made no move to come through the gate or search for an opening elsewhere. It snarled.

The horse made a startled sound, and Rose flinched at the fear in its neigh. It took off running down the drive, still pulling the carriage which bumped along the road dangerously, threatening to flip over. But the hound was beyond the gate. It seemed unable to pass though Rose did not trust that. It was a neverwere; what power did a gate have to stop it? Glowing eyes found their faces, and it snarled.

Robinson recovered his wits and headed for the horse when the beast finally began to calm. Their rescuer joined Robinson in grabbing the horse and unhitching it from the carriage. It made a scared sound, threatening to rear up on its back legs. Rose drew back, staying close to the Doctor. She had memories of lives where she was pretty good with horses, but they weren't enough to make her comfortable with the scared behavior.

Rose didn't move from her place watching the hound. The neverwere stared at her through the bars of the gate while Robinson and the stranger wrestled the horse into a stable. The Doctor was right beside her, studying the hound and no doubt seeing something that Rose couldn't. A dull headache began throbbing at her temples.

"Into the house," the man said. "Hurry! Before it tries anything!"

They stumbled into the house where a woman was waiting nervously. She was about the same age as Rose's mum, with greying brown hair tied up in a bun and wearing clean, well-kept clothing. Judging from the lack of uniform, Rose suspected that she was the lady of the house. Glancing back at the door, Rose could see the gate where the hound was still waiting before their rescuer firmly shut the door.

"Is anyone hurt?" the woman asked. She looked at the man. "Was it the hound again?"

"Yes, it was chasing them," the man said. Then he swallowed and straightened up. He was tall with dark hair, beginning to grey at the temples and, similar to Conan Doyle and Robinson, had a neatly trimmed mustache. "I am Charles Darson," their rescuer greeted. He took the hand of the pale woman beside him. "And this is my wife, Emily. Welcome to Darson Hall."

"Thank you for the timely aid," Conan Doyle said politely. But even the attack by the hound hadn't dulled the excitement boiling under the man's skin. "Madam, you asked if it was the hound again. So you have seen it before tonight?"

The uneasy silence that followed the question was answer enough. Charles and Emily looked at each other nervously, and Rose cast her gaze around the entry of the house. It was old-fashioned to her with wooden panel walls and sturdy wood furniture. Paintings hung on the wall with a couple of black and white photographs on display on a nearby table. A grandfather clock, complete with a swinging pendulum, chimed softly.

"Well, the hound seemed willing to stay beyond the gate," the Doctor said. "But if you know anything about it, then we might be able to help."

"I'm not sure how anyone can help," Charles said. He didn't sound angry or even doubtful. Instead, the man sounded tired. "That hound has been haunting the moors for centuries, according to the stories. Occasionally, I think I see multiples, but it is normally just the one."

"It never comes into the house," the woman added. She still seemed shaken but was smoothing down her dress. "You are safe here."

"It doesn't usually attack people," the man added. "That has me a bit worried, but you're welcome to stay the night. They tend to appear around dusk and vanish during the day."

"Are you certain that it is dangerous?" Conan Doyle asked. "I mean, yes, a hound that appears and vanishes is alarming, to be sure, but if it doesn't attack or even pass the threshold of your property, then how much danger does it pose?"

"Hard to say," Charles said. "But no one in these parts risks being out when they know the hound is prowling."

Rose looked at the Doctor, who was listening with a frown. That sounded like odd behavior for a neverwere. Every time Rose had seen them, they were almost feral creatures, ready to attack anyone who crossed their paths.

"Amazing," Conan Doyle breathed. "I was learning about the local stories, but I never imagined that it could be real."

"It's dangerous is what it is," the Doctor said. "Does it ever go near homes? Near the village?"

"Not that I know of," Charles replied. He seemed surprised by the Doctor's serious tone. "The hound is seen on the moor. People stay away from it. Honestly, I was shocked when I looked out the window and saw it chasing your carriage."

The Doctor and Rose exchanged a glance. Rose had a bad feeling that them coming here had triggered something. If it was a neverwere then maybe the appearance of a TARDIS had thrown off whatever delicate balance on the moor was keeping this thing from destroying everyone.

"And it doesn't come past the gate?" the Doctor asked again. He moved to the window and looked out. "It's still there. Just waiting."

Emily shuddered and rubbed her arms. "We don't know why. This house has been in the family for generations. There are a few old stories about consecrated iron being used to make the gate and the fence."

"Yes," her husband agreed. "My grandfather told me the story when I was a lad, and my mother told my wife. When the house was built, iron was blessed by a priest to keep the house safe. If the dog is a fairy, then that would explain it."

The Doctor looked ready to say something only for Conan Doyle to lean forward with sharp and curious eyes. "Really? What an excellent tale? Are there any other stories like that pertaining to the hound? Why did your ancestors feel the need to construct such defenses?"

"Well, there's always been something off about the moor," Charles said uneasily. "Now, I don't believe that I got your name, sir."

"Ah, my apologies!" Conan Doyle nodded deeply and proceeded to introduce himself quickly. "This chap you might already know, Bertram Fletcher Robinson." Then he nodded to Rose, Jack, and the Doctor. "And we met these three out on the moor an hour or so ago. This is Doctor… uh, I don't believe I got your last name, sir."

"Tyler," the Doctor answered before Rose could offer Smith. She stared at him with wide eyes and noted that the Doctor's ears reddened a shade. Jack barely suppressed a snicker. "This is my wife Rose and her brother Jack."

"Welcome to our home," Emily said softly. "If you'll excuse me, I'll make sure that supper is served soon." She quickly excused herself, casting a fearful look back at the door.

Conan Doyle immediately started asking Charles more about the history of the house and the area. Their poor host looked overwhelmed but determined. Rose wondered if this had happened before. How often had they opened their home to someone the hound got too close to, or were they the first?

The Doctor touched Rose's arm and guided her and Jack over to the window. They could look out into the darkening evening, but Rose could no longer see the neverwere. That was unwelcome. Rose found that she would have preferred to keep her eyes on the creature.

"Do you think iron could have anything to do with the hound not coming closer?" Jack asked softly.

"No," the Doctor answered. "Neverweres aren't repulsed by such things. It could be as simple as the house is just a bit too far for it to go. Neverweres are dangerous creatures, but they can't maintain any kind of manifestation too far from a temporal event."

"So, you think there is something out in the moor," Jack said with a hint of doubt. "There's nothing out there."

"For all, we know there might have been a town on the moor," the Doctor reminded him. Rose shivered at the idea. "There might have been many people who vanished after being attacked by the neverwere who aren't even remembered anymore."

"Do you think the TARDIS is safe out there?" Jack asked. "I mean, she's a time machine."

"The TARDIS has defenses against neverweres," the Doctor answered. His voice rang with a note of finality that warned Rose and Jack not to ask. "The issue now is why is this thing here, and how do we stop it?"

"Could it be something natural?" Jack asked. "A freak accident that caught only one creature that fades in and out?"

"Possible," the Doctor admitted. "Neverweres are beings erased from existence. They used to be very rare before… well, before the Time War. Given its form, I'd say that it was, in fact, a real hunting hound once upon a time." The Doctor sighed and looked out the window. "Which means that something, at some point, happened in this area to create a neverwere out of a hound."

"This doesn't seem like a place where things happen," Jack said drily. "I can see why this would be the setting of a ghost story."

"Yes," the Doctor agreed. He looked up at the photos on the walls and frowned softly.

"What is it?" Rose asked.

"There are historians who have proposed locations that Baskerville Hall could have been based on, but I've never heard of this house," the Doctor said. "Darson Hall has never been mentioned on the list of possible inspirations, and Charles and Emily are unknown to me." The Doctor looked out the window and into the night once again. "Something is off here, and I can't put my finger on it."

"At least we have shelter for the night without awkward questions," Jack offered. "We'll keep an eye and ear out for this neverwere, and first thing in the morning, get back to the TARDIS so we can track down this temporal event."

"Glad to hear you have a plan," the Doctor teased. Rose was pleased to note the slight smirk on his face.

"What can I say? I don't like neverweres," Jack replied.

"Neither do I," Rose said. She forced a smile. "But it's one neverwere, and I have my sword. We can handle this."

The Doctor nodded, but Rose could tell he wasn't convinced. He was looking at the photos and paintings on the wall again, and Rose wondered what they might be missing.