If she didn't know better, Charlotte would think someone was drilling into her skull. At least, that's what the persistent headache felt like. As though someone had trapped her head in a vice, taken the construction tool, and activated it, the sharp metal twisting and turning as it burrowed into the deep inner reaches of her brain.
The air felt much cooler than she was used to, not to mention the faint constant hum in the background: a hum like that of a car engine. Where was she? Even with her eyes shut, Charlotte could tell that her current environment was nothing like her gym.
Her gym! That was it! The last thing she remembered was sitting back and closing her eyes in her office back at her gym. So how did she get here, wherever here was? Had someone broken into her office and kidnapped her? Was this a dream? And if it was the former, would her clients sever their business relationship due to her unplanned absence?
No, it was no use thinking like that. First things first, she had to find out what had happened to her.
It was at that point that Charlotte realised that aside from the persistent engine hum, she could hear two shrill voices coming from the space directly around her. In her current state, she couldn't make out what the voices were saying, but it sounded like they were bickering. At her degraded rate of consciousness, it was as though she was trying to listen to voices underwater, all words sounding distant and muffled. She put all of her focus into concentrating on forcing her brain to cooperate with her ears.
"...not like your skinny body needs much room, shorty."
Was that an Irish accent?
"You can talk, you're not exactly that tall yourself. Anyway, we'd all have a lot more space if we weren't all squashed in this cell with this blonde giant."
Okay, that voice was definitely American, possibly a Boston accent? They were in a cell? Hold on, blonde giant? Were these strangers talking about her?!
With far more effort than she ever thought would be necessary, Charlotte slowly opened her eyes.
"Ah, the princess is awake. How is your highness?"
There it was, that Irish accent again. Only now with her eyes open, blurred vision slowly beginning to clear, she could put a face to the voice. Staring right ahead at her was a woman with fiery orange hair, a chiselled jaw, her mouth pulled into a mischievous smirk.
Behind the woman however, Charlotte could clearly see a metal mesh-like structure surrounding them, though her still foggy vision prevented her from seeing much further beyond. Turning her head to look over her shoulder, the same mesh was behind her as well. She didn't need to turn to assume that they were enclosed in the same structure. Looking down at her wrists and ankles, she was relived to find that she was free of restraints. Even if she was locked in a cell, at least she wasn't chained or handcuffed.
"Y'know, if we're sticking with royalty, I prefer 'Queen'," Charlotte huffed, the words slightly mumbled, her mouth still waking up.
"Having gangly limbs doesn't make you a queen, sweetheart."
Turning to her left, Charlotte looked into the eyes of a comparatively diminutive woman with caramel coloured skin, who couldn't be much over five feet tall, give or take a few inches. By far the most striking thing about her, even when factoring the accusatory glare pointed in her direction, was the woman's vivid electric blue hair. Clearly these two mystery strangers were big fans of hair dye products.
"Well excuse me for my genetics," Charlotte retorted angrily, the blue-haired Bostonian beginning to grate on her nerves with her confrontational hostile attitude.
"Yeah, come on lass, it's not her fault you came up a little short," the Irishwoman guffawed loudly at the obvious pun.
"Again with the short jokes," the blue-haired woman rolled her eyes, uncrossing her arms to jab a finger in the fiery ginger's direction. "You can't have more than two inches on me!"
"Quite the small fuse on you, eh lass?".
Even in her groggy state, Charlotte couldn't help but have a hint of a grin tugging at the corners of her lips at the Irishwoman's audacity. If the blue-haired woman lost her temper and decided to lash out, there would be no way to escape out of the confined space they were all trapped in, as the perpetually irritated blue-haired woman alluded to earlier. Yet the redhead continued to taunt her. Either she lacked the intelligence to think about the consequences of her actions, or she just didn't care. Speaking of being trapped in a confined space, she should really look around and see where they are. At least she wasn't claustrophobic, or she'd have a real problem. While they weren't packed together so tightly that their limbs were forced to be in contact, they still didn't have much in the way of personal space.
"Calm down lass, don't take it so seriously. Unless you want to wake up Miss Side Ponytail over there," the ginger woman thumbed over to Charlotte's right.
"Or maybe 'Miss Side Ponytail' has been awake all this time listening to you two bicker like children?"
The fiery redhead and the irritable blue-haired woman exchanged dumbfounded looks, having seemingly forgotten about their fellow two cell occupants in their verbal sparring with each other. Especially the one whom the other three women had wrongly assumed had yet to regain consciousness the entire time.
They watched as the brunette opened her eyes sleepily, a subtle smirk on her face from her deception. She had a kindly face, and seemed to be the most calm of the four. Whereas the redheaded Irishwoman seemed to have a constant pout, and the blue-haired Bostonian bore a seemingly permanent scowl, this third woman wore a smiling, warm expression, her eyes twinkling with kindness. Was it a façade, naivety, or was this woman just genuinely the happiest person alive, Charlotte wondered.
"Well now that we're all awake, I think it's time for introductions," the Irishwoman suggested. Charlotte certainly saw sense in it. They were all locked up together, apparently, they may as well become familiar with each other if they wanted to work together to escape. "I'm Becky," the redhead continued, gesturing towards herself. "This lovely little brat to my right is Sasha," Becky wrapped her arm around the blue-haired woman's shoulder, to which Sasha immediately forcibly shrugged off and recoiled from.
"Hey, fuck you," Sasha responded, an irritable venom coating her words.
"Maybe after we escape, love," Becky teased flirtatiously, wiggling her eyebrows in Sasha's direction, causing the irritable woman to scoff in disgust.
"You'd legit be insanely lucky to even get a smile out of me, so if you think-" Sasha began, her voice raising with each word as she launched into what was sure to be an aggressive retort, her face contorted in anger. Fortunately for the eardrums of the cell's other occupants, she was interrupted before she could really get going.
"I'm Bayley," the fourth woman piped up, purposefully inserting herself as a buffer to stop Becky and Sasha from bickering further. Despite her kind face, it was clear that Bayley had had enough, and shrewdly interrupted at the most opportune moment. The calculated decision paid off, for Becky and Sasha immediately shut up at the interruption.
Moments of silence stretched by. Charlotte looked up, only to see the other three staring at her. Momentarily perplexed by this, realisation suddenly dawned on her. They were waiting for her to introduce herself.
"Does her royal highness have a name?" Becky piped up, the mischievous glint still shining in her eyes, as though her life depended on it. "Wanna make sure I'm addressing a queen by her proper title, y'know?"
"Charlotte. Why do you keep addressing me like that?" she responded, bemusement evident in her tone with irritation beginning to creep across her features.
"Oh I don't know, perhaps it's got something to do with the way you're sat, as though perched atop a throne, waiting for us to bow down?" came the redhead's response, eyebrows narrowed in a challenging smirk.
"Now that the leprechaun mentions it, you do look like you think you're better than us," Sasha butted in.
"Hey!" the so-called "leprechaun" exclaimed.
Becoming self-conscious all of a sudden, Charlotte began to see what the others were getting at. While they were all sat with a slight slouch, slumped against the cell, Charlotte's back was perfectly straight against the metal without even a hint of curvature. Hardly her fault that she knew how to take meticulous care of her body. Otherwise what kind of personal trainer would she be?
"Well excuse me for having good posture!" Charlotte spat back. She had no idea why the other two were being so rude and forming unfair assumptions about her, but it was beginning to piss her off.
"Okay okay," Bayley intervened. The other three immediately silenced at the sound of her voice. She wasn't physically intimidating by any means, quite the opposite. But there was something about her tone that captivated them, demanding their attention as though it was of grave importance. "If you three want to tear each other apart, can it at least wait until we bust out of here?"
"Where even is 'here'?" Charlotte inquired.
"We're locked in here with you," Sasha reminded her. The blue-haired woman's eyes were narrowed in an irritated frown, as though Charlotte had asked the stupidest question imaginable. "Why would you expect us to know?"
Charlotte sighed in exasperation while bringing the palms of her hands to cover her face in irritation, the ends of her fingers pressing against her temple. Of all the people to be locked in a cell with, why did it have to be these women? One couldn't go a single sentence without lashing out, and the other cracked jokes as if her life depended on it, failing to grasp the gravity of the situation. The only reasonable one was Bayley, who had barely spoken by this point, waiting for Becky and Sasha to grow tired of bickering. But at least when Bayley did speak, she actually said something of value, unlike the two immature hair dye enthusiasts.
Realising that none of her fellow prisoners knew any better than she did, Charlotte resolved to work that out for herself. Retracting her hands from her face, she turned around to peer between the metal mesh.
Although she could see beyond the structure confining them, the area beyond was dimly lit. She could just barely make out the dark grey walls, though she wondered if they only looked that colour because of the darkness filling the room like a dark cloud on a stormy day. Whoever their captors were, they clearly didn't think much to giving them clear vision of the cell's exterior. Focusing her eyes by peering around each side of the cage, she surmised that the structure took up the middle of the room, with dirty iron walls in the distance on each side of the room.
If she didn't know any better, she'd think they were being held in a dungeon. However, there was a constant faint vibration as though they were on a plane. And if she listened carefully, there was the faint hum of engines coming from afar. So were they in the air? What kind of plane was this?
She spotted the outline of a door in the wall opposite the cell door. The outline wasn't rectangular like a regular interior door but curved at the top. It clearly wasn't wooden either; instead it was a sheet of light grey metal, with a zig-zag pattern in the middle, as though cut into the door.
Charlotte's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rattling metal behind her. Turning to inspect the source of the noise, the blonde was met with the sight of the Irishwoman repeatedly barge her shoulder into the cage wall.
"Becky, you're not going to break through," Charlotte sighed.
"Maybe you couldn't. But you don't have my boulder shoulders," Becky responded while flipping her orange hair out of her line of vision, shrugging said shoulders to accentuate them.
"Whoever captured us managed to do it discreetly," Bayley countered, "you really think they'd risk all that by putting us in a flimsy cell we could break out of that easily?"
"Well observed," boomed a disembodied voice in an English accent, sounding as though it emanated from an overhead speaker. The sound of sliding metal was heard, and the women turned towards the door in time to see the both sides of the zig-zag pattern retract, revealing three men wearing suits. The men walked to the edge of the cell in formation, one in front of the other two, the other two flanking him while bringing up the rear.
"We wouldn't risk losing our new pilots," the man seemingly in charge spoke, the same voice that had come through the speaker moments ago, a deep but dulcet tone. His expression was one of menace, his eyes narrowed, mouth curled wickedly. The way he looked at them reminded Sasha of someone looking at caged animals in a zoo, taking malicious satisfaction in their imprisonment.
"Pilots?" Sasha scoffed. "I don't know about these three, but I certainly don't know how to fly a plane."
"Oh, you poor, primitive human," he replied condescendingly, looking at her as though he was talking down to a child. "We have no need for any useless knowledge in your miniscule brain."
"Then how'd ya expect us to fly this plane, ya moron?" Becky retorted angrily, the Irish lilt in her voice becoming more evident the more impassioned she got. Her question was punctuated by rattling the cage aggressively.
"How fascinating!" The tone dripped with venom, both words pronounced. "Even while caged and utterly defeated you still try to fight back." He turned to his companions; glee etched onto his features. "The true mark of a primitive race."
"Get in here and I'll show you how primitive I can be!" the fiery Irishwoman challenged angrily.
"This one will need to be sedated," the male leader turned to the man on his right. The man nodded in acknowledgement, reaching into his inside pocket. Producing a syringe, he advanced towards the cell door, as though he was a hunter stalking his cornered prey. He crept closer and closer. The way Becky continued to struggle against the wall to escape her confinement, he wouldn't even need to open the door to plunge the needle into her skin.
"Stop!" Bayley bellowed. Her tone betrayed the fact that she was clearly frightened. Not for herself, but for what they had planned for an unconscious Becky. Though she had only just met the women, and hadn't necessarily gotten along yet, the possible scenarios for what they had planned was not something she wished for the redhead to experience. "You brought us here for a reason. You say you need us to pilot this plane, but none of us know how. But even if we did, that knowledge would be irrelevant to you?" she questioned, working the situation out in her head as she spoke. Her diplomacy skills were on full display, with her tone being far more civil than Sasha and Becky's had been. "Just tell us what you want us to do."
"Ah, a sensible human," the leader smiled, relieved to have found one of their prisoners more compliant than the rest.
"Stop talking like that, you fricken' little weirdo!" Becky interjected, pushing her face up against the cell mesh while rattling the structure, like a caged and enraged animal desperately trying to claw at their antagonist. Clearly the threat of sedation hadn't quietened her resolve.
Bayley turned to Becky and hissed "Dude, shut up for a minute!" She couldn't blame Becky for being so riled up of course. It was only natural for certain personalities to fight their way as hard as they could out of an unpleasant situation. Hell, Bayley wanted nothing more than to escape too. But it would be easier to do so if she could understand what these men wanted with them. These continued outbursts were getting them nowhere. Becky for her part listened, calming down a fraction. Though Bayley suspected that was more her being taken aback by Bayley daring to demand her silence.
A sly smile crossed the face of the man in charge. "A wise decision."
"Don't try to pacify me with false praise," Bayley retorted. Her facial features remained peaceful, but her words had a bitter undertone, and her eyes burned with intensity.
The other three prisoners had to pick their jaws up off the floor, each instantly gaining a measure of respect for the stoic Latina. Here they were, prisoners locked up god knows where, confronted by three exceedingly creepy and unfriendly men, and she had the courage to stand up to them. While Becky had appeared to be doing just that, deep down she knew it was more a defence mechanism, putting up a front to disguise her fear. Yet if Bayley was scared, she was doing an exceptional job of hiding it. She was standing up to them, refusing to back down. Diplomatic, yes. But her voice never quivered, sounding as firm as could be. Everything pointed towards a fierce intelligence burning within the brunette. If the others had to guess, Bayley appeared to be playing the obedient prisoner without hope, right up until an opportunity to escape presented itself.
For a tinniest fraction of a second, an animalistic snarl flickered the features of their captors at Bayley's defiant retort. The scowls quickly flitted back to a neutral expression, the transformation happening in the blink of an eye.
"Now that we understand each other, would it be too much to ask for your name?" Bayley continued.
"I am Brother Bezar," the male leader answered, a look of superiority etched across his features at imparting the knowledge.
For the second time in as many seconds, the other three women were gobsmacked by Bayley's ability to remain so calm and collected in the face of despair. Not only that, but she'd managed to coax some information out of their captors without so much as raising her voice. Of course simply knowing the leader's name wouldn't help them too much, but it signified a small victory by allowing the balance of power to shift infinitesimally.
"You will come with us," Bezar said in a silky-smooth voice, smiling. But this wasn't a kind smile. It was a sinister smile, an undertone of knowing how helpless their prisoners truly were, with hidden elation at the fact that they didn't know exactly how much trouble they were in yet.
He motioned to one of his subordinates, who retrieved a keycard from his pocket and flashed it against the cell door's control. A high-pitch beep sounded, and the dull sound of the metal lock shifting to unlock itself could be heard.
The four women remained stood in place expectedly, waiting for their oppressors to make their next move.
"But I feel I must warn you," Bezar continued, his tone oozing with menace, "it would be foolish to attempt to escape. Especially once you see our true form."
A cloud of smoke billowed from each of the mens' mouths. It swirled around them and enveloped their bodies, shrouding them like a cloak, keeping them hidden from view.
The smoke began to clear, and what the collective womens' eyes bore witness to truly terrified them. Where once humans had stood, there was no trace of the humanoid forms they had once occupied. In their place stood three towering bat-like creatures, leathery skin a shade of light brown. Each of the creatures had two wings protruding from their back. All three unfurled said wings almost simultaneously, in near-perfect sync with each other. Charlotte estimated that each wing had to be four feet long at least.
Their piercing red eyes bore into the soul of each woman, unnerving them to their core. The creatures' long faces extended down to their mouths. Even while closed, a multitude of jagged teeth were visible. But perhaps the most alarming physical feature about these demonic-looking creatures were the pointy yellow claws at the end of their fingers, like a deadly version of a human fingernail.
Sasha, Becky and Charlotte could do nothing but stand there, mouths gaped wide open in a silent scream, frozen to the spot with terror. Even Bayley allowed her fear to overtake her. The creatures opened their mouths and released a terrifying inhuman shriek, saliva dripping from their open mouths. The smoke returned, coming up through their throats, hiding their bodies from sight once more. When it parted, the three were once again in human form, allowing the women to relax ever so slightly. While they would never forget the nightmarish image they had just bore witness to, they were no longer crippled with fear now that it was no longer in front of them.
"Now, do we all understand each other?" Bezar asked threateningly, a twisted smirk etched devilishly across his face. He knew they were absolutely helpless against their deadly true form; their razor-sharp claws and teeth would rip them apart in an instant. The question wasn't asked because the alien cared one way or the other. It was asked simply to taunt them.
The four women for their part, didn't open their mouths to answer verbally. Nor did they nod in affirmation. They didn't want to give this creature the satisfaction of knowing just how scared they truly were, though their scent was probably rife with fear. Instead they just stood impassively, trying not to let the full extent of their emotions show through their expression or body language. Understandably however, the intent was met with only mixed results.
"Good," the creature retorted in lieu of a verbalised response, deciding that their silence was enough of an acknowledgement. "You will come with us. There's no use in trying to escape, as we just demonstrated."
One of Bezar's subordinates reached out and pulled the cell door open before stepping aside to allow the prisoners to exit the cage. The width of the door only allowed them to do so in single file. Once they were all out the three disguised aliens moved to put themselves in formation. Bezar and one of his guards stood at the top of the rear, with each woman ordered to remain in single file behind. The other guard took up the rear, constantly watching the prisoners in case they tried anything. Likewise, Bezar and the guard at the front were there to prevent the exact same thing. With their backs to them, the women would have stood a much better chance of taking out their oppressors if there was just one at the front. Hence why there were two.
The group of seven began to walk out of the metal door the aliens had entered through. As the women moved down the corridor, they took note of the dark, dingy feel to it. The lights were exceedingly dim, barely allowing them to see at all. Metal pipes ran along the walls, presumably carrying power along the length of the craft. Although they'd previously presumed the vehicle they were inside to be an airplane, now with the disturbing reveal of the true nature of their captors, they weren't so sure anymore.
That late revision was proven before their very eyes as the doors to the room at the end of the corridor slid open as they approached. Inside stood a dirty, large, metallic rectangular console, standing four feet or so off the floor, with a wide variety of buttons and levers dotted across its surface. Dotted all around in a semi-circle behind the console stood numerous panels, all with large handprints embedded. Only they weren't human handprints, no. These handprints bore an uncanny resemblance to the hands of the creatures before them, in that brief moment of terror in which they revealed their alien forms.
But the interfaces wasn't what grabbed their attention the most. At the end of the room beyond the console, was a gigantic glass window. On the other side of the window? A seemingly unending black void, with stars twinkling all around, though a sphere could be seen in the distance, blue and green just barely visible. At this point, it was blindingly obvious that they weren't being held on a plane. They were in space.
"Holy…shit," Sasha gasped, striding forward towards the window. Evidently she had momentarily forgotten her current status as prisoner, her gaze lost in the wonder on display before her.
"Shorty…" Becky hissed quietly in warning, noticing their captors advance in pursuit of the wayward prisoner.
Just as she as she approached closer, Sasha yelped in surprise as she suddenly felt herself forcefully yanked back. Her captor wheeled her back around, coming face-to-face with Brother Bezar.
"You will not do anything unless we tell you to do so," the nefarious alien snarled before clearing the scowl off his face before turning to regard all four of the women. "And what you will do now, is get into those chairs."
Bezar motioned towards the end of the control deck where the large window showcasing the outside space stood. What the women had failed to notice were four metal chairs placed around the window. Two on the left side of the window, two of the right side of the room. They weren't ordinary chairs, they looked more like dental chairs. What really set them apart were wires running up the chair, all connecting to a helmet perched a foot above the chair, looking like it was ready to be raised. The helmet itself was a design with just the basic skeleton of the top of a human head, with various holes running throughout, not unlike a bicycle helmet. Clearly the purpose was merely to just fit around a human head, not to cover it entirely.
"Nah, those chairs look a bit shite," Becky retorted with a tiny grin tugging on her lips, defiance clear as day. "I think I'll stay standing, but cheers for the offer."
Bezar growled at the disobedient prisoner, looking ready to explode in fury.
"Remind us, why should we do anything you say?" Charlotte spoke up, finally finding her voice in the shocking events the four abducted women had been put through. The question was not spoken out of spite or coated in sarcasm, but was a genuine question. Though they had already been intimidated minutes before, she still wanted confirmation before judging whether to mount an escape attempt.
Bezar immediately calmed and smirked at her, the evil glint in his eye indicating just how much he was relishing reminding the poor women of their brutal capabilities.
"Either you sit in those chairs of your own free will, or we will place you there by force. The choice is yours." If the smirk on Bezar's face was threatening before, now it was borderline sadistic. It was as though he was begging the women to try to make things difficult for themselves.
"But you need us alive," Bayley piped up, her tone as diplomatic as ever, despite the anger coursing inside of her at their present predicament.
The sadistic smile was turned to regard the brunette, softening slightly, having since deducted that Bayley was more reasonable than the other three, and therefore easier to bend to their will rather than intimidated. "You are correct, we do need you alive. However, that doesn't mean to say that we necessarily need you unharmed. As long as you still breathe and your brain is still active, that's all we need." The unspoken insinuation of physical harm seemed to incite the man further. His eyes didn't just have a hint of menace, they were almost glowing with glee at the very idea.
Seeing no other option, three of the four women sighed in exasperation, trying their best not to shake with panic. As brave as they might be, they were smart enough to know that they wouldn't stand a chance against those horrifically sharp claws the human forms hid. So against their will, they knew they had no choice but to comply, lest they risk being torn apart almost to the point of death. And so it was with great reluctance that they walked over to the chairs and rested their bodies on, in the halfway point between sitting and laying down that the style of chair provided.
Of course, there was one of the prisoners that made no attempt to move. And glancing back, there was really no surprise who it was.
"Becky!" Bayley hissed at the motionless woman, still remaining on the exact same spot she had been since entering the room.
"But-" the ginger Irishwoman started, before being cut off.
"Please, just trust me," Bayley pleaded, her eyes sparkling with urgency. They may have been complete strangers until an hour ago, but they were all imprisoned together. If the foul aliens felt they had enough excuse, she knew they would have no qualms inflicting torture upon the redhead, as they had only just strongly implied. And right now, Becky was on the cusp of giving them that excuse. She couldn't bear to allow that to happen.
Becky huffed, and Bayley felt relief wash over her as the problematic woman finally strode over to the remaining vacant chair. She wasn't doing it gracefully though, an artificial swagger in her step. She'd studied the woman long enough now to know it was all a front. Deep down, the woman was just as terrified as the rest of them.
As the last woman settled into her chair, Bezar walked over to the centre console and pulled down a lever. The helmets above each chair lowered, settling and securing on each woman's skull. The metal was cold to the touch, the cool contact on the skin causing each woman to involuntarily gasp.
Brother Bezar turned to his companions. "Our time has come, my brothers. Today we shall journey onward."
Shifting back towards the console, Bezar flicked a switch, causing hidden metal restraints to shoot upwards out of the sides of the chairs and fasten around each woman's wrists before snapping down in place.
"What the fook?!" Becky yelped in surprise. While the other three women didn't voice a verbal outburst, they struggled against the restrains nonetheless – to no avail.
"Now, this is going to hurt," Bezar flashed a wicked grin at the four women, knowing full well the effect of what he was about to would have on their brains.
"No no, please," Charlotte begged, suddenly overcome with fear at the unknown.
"You don't have to do this!" Bayley tried to reason, though even she knew it was futile.
"Get this off of me right now!" Sasha yelled in panic, rattling the restraints in a desperate attempt to shift them, but they wouldn't budge.
"I'M GOIN' A SLAP THE HEADS OFFA ALL'A YOU DOPES!" Becky bellowed, her Irish lilt coming out stronger than ever before in her white-hot fury. She forcefully thrashed as much as the restraints would allow her to, but it made no difference.
Each of the four women continued to individually protest, the sadistic creatures watching in amusement, Bezar's finger hovering above the switch he planned to activate. The voices overlapped as each woman's respective panic rose even higher. But then something unexpected happened to break every person in the room into stunned silence.
A high pitched, warbly, pulsating sound sounded throughout the room, growing louder and more frantic. Loose objects scattered about the room began to fly around as an intense wind blew around the control room. But that made no sense, they were aboard a spaceship. The sound was then joined by an artificial wheezing, groaning, almost grating noise. Charlotte, Becky, Sasha and Bayley darted their eyes around the room, trying to locate the source of the mysterious sounds. And then they saw it.
In one of the far corners of the room, a tall blue box materialised into view before their eyes, despite the space being empty just a second before. The wall behind it was still visible, the strange object semi-transparent at best. The box then faded out of view before it could turn from transparent to opaque. The groaning noise grew louder and more pronounced as the box returned before fading out, and then fading in again.
This pattern continued for several seconds, the materialisation and prompt dematerialisation occurring in synchronisation with the mechanical thrumming rising and falling, rising and falling, over and over again. The wind picked up ferocity as the groaning sound continued to climb. Each time the object returned, it became ever so slightly less transparent and more opaque. Even in this transparent form, a lantern could be seen at the top of the object, shining with brilliant white light as the box materialised, the light fading as it dematerialised, before returning in full force for the next materialisation. As the women watched, each lost somewhere in between bewilderment and amazement at the fantastical sight, the object materialised for the final time before stopping. A single thumping noise, almost like a single bang against a bass drum sounded to signify this. The object was now a fully opaque, solid object.
Now that the blue box had fully materialised into the room, the onlookers could get a much closer look at it. It was rectangular, a similar basic shape and size to a telephone booth. Only it was taller, perhaps around ten feet or so. Most baffling of all, it looked as though it was made of wood, painted a striking shade of dark blue. A door handle could be seen on the right-hand side, indicating that they were currently looking at the doors to open the bizarre object.
Square panels were indented running up almost the entire length of the box, four panels on the left-hand side, four on the right-hand side. Most of these indented panels were without defining characteristics, but not all. Halfway up on one side, a panel was painted white, with lettering inscribed, though they were currently too far away to read it. Above the white panel on both sides of the front doors, were sectioned panes of glass, two rows of three. Glancing above the windows, a black strip ran across the entire length of the front of the object, with words inscribed. Unlike the smaller lettering further down, these were large enough to read: "POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX".
What on earth did those letters mean? It was written in English, so had this come from Earth? How could the police possibly have advanced technology such as this? The very idea that the police went into space was a preposterous notion. Yet here the letters were. Was there a space police now?
The unanswered questions and fantastical sight continued to keep the four women's heads spinning. And even more questions came to mind as they hear the sound of wood squeaking. One of the doors to the box was pulled open from the inside, and a man stepped forth from within.
"Ah, hello there!" The man spoke to the room with a clear English accent. Each word was spoken clearly with precision, no hint of a defining regional accent. As he spoke, he strode farther into the room as though he owned it, a grin across his face. But unlike their alien captors, his grin oozed calm rather than anything malicious. The stranger radiated an air of being entirely in control of the situation he had just stumbled into. But how could he? Was this all an act to lure the women into a false sense of security to prevent their struggles?
His dark brown hair was styled in a quiff, combed to the side at the front, flopping down towards the top of one eye. "Oh look, you've holding some humans captive!" he spoke to the disguised alien creatures, in an enthusiastic tone that implied glee, pointing over to the four women still bonded to the metal chairs. The man's grin slowly turned to a subtle frown. "Nothing says brave like kidnapping four innocent women."
The women just continued staring at the man in bewilderment. Here he was, a seemingly ordinary man, and he had the gall to make sarcastic comments to the terrifying monsters hidden in human form. As far as Charlotte was concerned, there were three possibilities. Either he was completely ignorant of their true nature, a fool, or a madman.
But if the man's attitude was striking enough, it was nothing compared to his attire. Dressed in a tweed jacket, braces could be seen underneath his jacket atop a white shirt. But completing the look was a burgundy bowtie. If this man was from present day Earth, then clearly his fashion ideals were not.
"You'd know all about that, Doctor," Bezar retorted with a confident smirk, as though he was taking glee from having this man storm in and interrupt whatever he had planned. His eyes told a different story. While the smirk still tugged at his lips, his eyes burned with what looked like hatred, and a malicious desire to inflict torment. "You butchered my brothers and flew for the stars!" he spat, his voice raising, his smirk finally curling into a scowl.
"Your brothers?" the man identified as Doctor asked, eyebrows arched slightly in confusion.
"Brother Lassar," Bezar growled, a slight fury coating his tone.
"Brother Lassar? Rings a bell…" the man trailed off, as though deep in thought.
"Excuse us, is this a private conversation, or can any of us jump in?" Becky interrupted the pair, her previous anger turned to a mixture of amusement and annoyance. She switched her focus to stare at the ridiculous stranger. "And who the hell are you?"
"Rebecca Lynch!" the man answered back, wheeling round to regard her with a grin, as though in recognition.
"Rebecca?" Sasha scoffed in mockery at Becky's expense, continuing their earlier back and forth. Confined to the chair, Becky could do little more than glare in retaliation.
"You were brilliant in that one film where you flipped over the motorbike handles!" the man praised with great enthusiasm, speaking animatedly as though he were a child on a sugar rush, before suddenly stopping with a frown. "Or have you not done that one yet?" He waited for a second before flapping his hands up. "Doesn't matter! I'm the Doctor."
The Doctor looked as if he was about to say more before closing his mouth and opening it again in a silent 'o' shape, as though comprehension had just dawned on him.
"Brother Lassar? Of course, you're Krillitanes!" the Doctor gasped in realisation, a smile across his face at having solved the puzzle in his own memory. The smile quickly dropped as another thought occurred to him. "This is a bit awkward now, isn't it?"
"Nothing awkward here, Doctor," Bezar answered, a devilish smile, looking as though it was intended as a taunt. "I'll avenge the loss of my brothers and we'll carry out our plan."
"Ah yes, your brothers who fed on the staff and pupils at Deffry Vale." The Doctor voice's voice did not raise in volume, but grew more bitter at the reference to past events as though in judgement. "Tell me, what's this plan of yours?"
"Why should we just give you the answers? You're such a pompous individual, Doctor. Show me how clever you are, and work it out."
The Doctor raised his head, his hazel-green eyes glistening as though the challenge woke something up in him. He stood in thought for a second before wheeling to point at the four women, or rather the chairs they sat in, snapping his fingers in their direction. "Those look like your standard spatial warp programmers to me. Telepathic devices, allowing one's will to set a course across space."
Sasha, Bayley, Charlotte and Becky all remained silent as they watched this strange man known only as the Doctor speak excitedly, seemingly enjoying explaining the situation. He gestured wildly as he talked, seemingly unable to stay still.
"But why? Why abduct humans? This ship looks in perfectly working order. You could just program a course yourselves ordinarily without the need for those programmers. Why do you need them?"
Bezar's face fell at the barrage of questions. Everything he'd known about the Doctor from Brother Lassar's reports were all true. He'd underestimated the Doctor, and it was only a matter of time until he worked out the answers.
"We…had no other choice." For the first time, Bezar's voice didn't sound as though he was fully in control of the situation.
"But you-" the Doctor started, but then closed his mouth again. His eyes widened as realisation washed over him. "Ho ho, I get it," he laughed, clapping his hands together, "this is rich! The controls don't respond to you, do they? Isomorphic, they should respond only to you, but they don't. You've changed your body structure so much since this ship was built, it no longer recognises you as Krillitanes."
The Doctor then turned to regard the four women. "That's the problems with Krillitanes, you see. They wage war on other lifeforms, cherry-picking and absorbing the best bits from the people they destroy."
"Is that really something we needed to know?" Sasha asked, frustration evident in her voice.
"Not really, I just wanted to involve you in the conversation," the Doctor grinned reassuringly. The gesture actually worked to calm all four women down somewhat. Though they were still afraid and confused, the man with his dark brown hair flopping about emanated warmth, and they felt a strange pull to trust him. After all, what did they really have to lose?
"But there's one thing I don't understand though. Why these four women particularly? What's so special about them?" the Doctor resumed his questioning to the Krillitane leader.
"They want to escape," Bezar answered. The Doctor furrowed his brow as he continued to listen. "The parameters were adjusted to select four humans from Earth who wanted to travel, who wished to achieve far more than their mundane lives could offer. We want to escape this wretched sector of space, and we will use their minds to do so."
"While frying their brains in the process!" the Doctor's outrage and disgust was palpable in his tone, though one look at his face revealed that he was trying to keep his anger contained.
"WHAT?!" all four women shouted out simultaneously, all taken aback by this startling new reveal. Not only was there a tone of overwhelming fear, but distinct anger mixed in. Only natural of course, nobody would be happy to discover that they were in very grave danger.
"Enough talk, our odyssey begins," Bezar said, growing tired of the prolonged disruption to his plans. His finger hovered around the switch, the glint in his eyes betraying his eagerness to pull it down and sacrifice the innocent women for his nefarious purposes.
"WAIT!" the Doctor shouted to take Bezar's attention away from what he planned to do. "You don't have to do this. I can take you anywhere you want." One of the Doctor's palms was raised flat in the air around his chest in Bezar's direction, while the other hand pointed towards the restrained women. He was not pleading with his words, but with his body language too, urging the aliens to stop. "Just let these humans go."
"And put myself in the debt of a Time Lord? I think not!" Bezar snarled.
'Time Lord'? Becky's mind worked into overdrive. The way Bezar emphasised those two words, spitting them out as though they were toxic, it must be important. But what did they mean? Was it a name or a title?
The Doctor's eyelids dropped, closing in frustration at the rejection of his generous offer. Why did they always have to be like this? His eyes slowly opened again a second later, boring a hole into the back of Bezar's head, who had since turned back towards the command console, making the mistake of turning his back on the Doctor. "Well then, you brought this on yourself." Quick as lightening, before Bezar had time to his attention back to the Doctor, the mysterious bowtie wearing man reached inside his tweed jacket inside pocket and flung a small object at the feet of the Krillitanes.
A high-pitched electronic squeal emanated, and there was a stunning flash of electric blue light, almost blinding the eyes of the room's occupants. When their vision returned to normal, the women looked over and saw the three aliens rooted to the spot. Only they were no longer in human disguise, they were back to their towering bat-like alien form. They scratched at the air with their sharp claws, howling in anger, and tiny yellow sparks dropped to the ground from where they clawed into the air. It was as though they were surrounded by a forcefield preventing them from breaking free from their current standing.
Charlotte's attention was snapped back as she noticed the Doctor beside her, retrieving a cylindrical handheld device from his top pocket. He pointed the strange apparatus at the metal restraints trapping her wrists in place. Though she couldn't get a good look at it, she did see a green light emit from the device. A whirring high-pitched electronic noise emitted from the gadget, and the metal restraints parted, sliding back into the chair, allowing her free movement once again.
Without a word, the Doctor quickly dashed off to do the same for the other three women. Charlotte swung her legs over the chair and made an effort to stand, but something prevented her from doing so, tugging her back down to the chair, pulling at her hair.
She hastened a quick glance over her shoulder, and the cool touch of metal on the top of her head enlightened her as to what was stopping her from leaving. The helmet was still attached to her head. The Doctor had freed her from the restraints, but not the helmet keeping her plugged in.
Looking around her, the other women had similar experiences. Unfortunately for them, the Doctor had failed to notice, dashing off back towards the blue box he'd arrived in. "Come on, let's get out of-AGH!" the Doctor exclaimed in shock as he felt something stop him in his tracks and pull him back several inches. Something pointed forcefully grabbed hold of his jacket, a sharp claw scratching up against his back, threatening to carve into his flesh. In his rush to escape, he hadn't noticed Bezar break free of the forcefield.
"I think not, Doctor!" Now that he was now in bat form, his voice sounded amplified, an animalistic growl adding to the malevolent tone. "For centuries you've guarded humanity. I can't think of a fitting end for you than to stand and watch as these humans burn before your eyes, helpless to save them, moments before being torn apart!"
The tearing of fabric was audible as the Doctor's body was yanked around to face the trapped women. His glistening eyes were filled with a multitude of emotions. Fear, regret, anger, remorse, sadness, all were reflected in the dark brown-green pools. Bezar spoke the truth; the Doctor was truly helpless to do anything to stop it.
It was in that moment that Bayley made a decision. They'd sat back and listened intently to the bizarre conversation for the past several minutes, taking in every detail. It was like they were flies on the wall, no attention paid to their presence, just listening in to a back and forth that made little sense to them. Most importantly of all, the Doctor had explained how the helmets they were plugged into worked, and Bezar had made no move to debunk it. A bitter smirk grew across her features. The Krillitanes wanted to go on a journey? She'd ensure it would be one they'd never forget.
A sharp thud echoed around the room as the lever was thrown, and the ship immediately lurched forward. Becky, Bayley, Sasha and Charlotte all had to grip desperately onto the chairs, as the ship vibrated with movement. The stars shifted in the glass window, confirming that they were now travelling throughout space with great speed. But they had no time to revel in that.
A throbbing pain began to build inside each woman's head. The pain accelerated with every passing second. The sensation was as though someone was digging inside their brain, scooping out every bit of information contained inside, until they found exactly what they were looking for.
They couldn't help but repeatedly cry out and grit their teeth, groaning in pain. The more seconds that passed, the more pain inside their brain, and therefore the more they screamed in agony.
Bayley tried her best to block out the pain, remaining as calm as humanly possible, urging her mind to focus on one specific image. She desperately hoped the others had the intelligence and wherewithal to do the same. She focused on the most dangerous place she could think of at such short notice.
As the spaceship zipped past stars at frightening speed, one globe zoomed dead ahead, seemingly expanding in size as the vessel drew closer. It appeared to churn with a deadly but dazzling fire of red, orange, and yellow. A maelstrom of boiling heat.
A high-pitched electronic warble sounded throughout the room, sounding like an alarm.
"What?!" Bezar spat, his eyes glowing with fury, lips curled in a furious glare.
The temperature of the room suddenly began to steadily climb, and a dark red light flooded the room, the alarm warble sounding more desperate and frantic the longer it sounded.
Relieved from the razor-sharp grip as Bezar released his hold on the Doctor, he shot a proud grin over to the women. Although their pain was not abating, their actions spurred them.
As the temperature rose higher and higher, beginning to reach uncomfortable levels, sticky sweat beginning to coat skin, the room began to shake, as though the ship itself was desperately trying to break free from its perilous course destination, but to no avail.
"And that's why you never let me explain!" the Doctor gleefully taunted the sinister alien, grinning madly with relief. "I told you: you brought it on yourself."
A loud crackle sounded as sparks began to fly from the console, the heat evidently wreaking havoc on the ship. Bezar flinched momentarily, but continued desperately scratching away at various controls, hysterically trying to do anything to change course.
"You told them that you were going to use their thoughts to take you across space, but you didn't count on them turning that against you, did you?" the Doctor bellowed above the increasing noise. The blaring alarm, the terrified shrieks of the Krillitane guards, and rattle of the spaceship, all made it necessary to speak in raised voices to be heard.
"And now, you are being flung right into the heart of the Sun!" the Doctor pointed at the view outside the windows, the Sun now enormous to the point of being all they could see. He turned back to Bezar. "Not the ideal holiday destination, I know. I hope you packed sunscreen."
The Doctor's verbal reprimanding was interrupted by a panicked and pained voice. "Enough talk, get us out of here!" Sasha screeched, clearly the pain and fear was becoming too much to bear, a sentiment shared by her three fellow prisoners.
"Sorry!" the Doctor raised his hands as he skidded towards the chairs, stopping to catch himself on a nearby control panel as his feet became unsteadied by a quake rocking the ship. The Doctor then began to set to work using his handheld cylindrical gadget to free the helmets' grasps on their heads.
Dust and rubble began to fall from the ceiling, chunks of metal raining down. Fortunately the ceiling hadn't begun disintegrating at the section of the room which housed the four chairs, but it was only a matter of time. There was a palpable sense of urgency as the Doctor scrambled to free the four women. Two particularly large chunks collapsed right on top of the two Krillitane guards, crushing them beneath the weight, surprised screeches being heard momentarily before being subsequently silenced. The only captor remaining was now Brother Bezar.
Turning in realisation at his brothers' fate, Bezar turned back to the women and the Doctor with unbridled fury, his red eyes burning with rage, mouth opening to emit a piercing shriek, sharp long teeth on full display. He flapped his wings, propelling him into the air, flying with increasing speed towards them. So far Charlotte and Bayley were free, the Doctor still working to free Becky while Sasha remained trapped.
Thinking fast, Charlotte spotted a chunk of metal debris near her feet. While guaranteed to be heavy, it looked light enough for her to be capable of picking it up, while sure to stop anyone in their tracks if thrown at them. The sound of wings flapping drew closer, the malevolent alien flying towards her with intent to harm. Groaning as she struggled to pick up the debris, she drew every reserve of physical strength she had, launching the chunk of metal right at the advancing Krillitane. The chunk hit Bezar square in the face. Blood trickled from the gash between his eyes, as his prone body fell to the floor with an audible thump.
By the time Charlotte had taken care of the impending danger, the Doctor had managed to unlock the helmets grasp on Sasha, each of the women now freed from their shackles before it had the chance to burn their minds. "RIGHT, NOW, INTO THAT BLUE BOX!" the Doctor shouted above the chaotic noise surrounding the ship's continued descent into the Sun. The temperature had now reached unbearable levels, leaving them all feeling light-headed. Though they were sure the helmets had some level of responsibility for that, the rising temperature did not help.
Rubble continued to rain down from the ceiling as they reached the large blue object the Doctor had arrived in. Pushing the doors open, the Doctor dashed inside, waiting for the four women to do the same before closing them.
When the women stumbled their way inside, they were left dumbfounded in shock by the breathtaking sight they saw before their very eyes. If they thought their experience was crazy before, now it was downright insane.