I own no part of the Doctor Whoniverse, but I stayed there once in an Airbnb rental. The house was a mess, and the neighborhood was full of hipsters, but the food was four out of five stars so it wasn't a total loss.
Karena hurried down the street, putting as much distance as she could, as quickly as she could, between herself and that horrible telephone. She regretted ever building the darn thing.
The Doctor kept pace with her easily, and his thoughts were on her phone as well, and the strange call that he had answered. For a moment, when the man on the other end had asked for Carmen Ortiz, the Doctor had had an eerie feeling of familiarity, as if he had heard the voice before. Or, not the voice, but the tone of the words themselves. But that was impossible. The voice had asked for Carmen. Carmen or Karena? Who was she? The Doctor himself didn't know what to call the woman beside him. She spoke as if she'd known him for years, but he'd known her for less than a day.
He asked the obvious question. "Who was that on the phone? A friend of yours?"
"Hm? Yes, an old friend, off and on." She glanced at him. "You didn't recognize the voice?"
He kept a straight face and said evenly, "No. Why? Was it someone I know?"
After a moment, she shook her head. "No, it's no one you've ever met before," she said honestly. Then again, with the Doctor, you never could tell… "Hurry up. It's not an official curfew, but after the work riots, the guardia have been increasing their patrols, and we don't want to be stopped looking like this!"
"Like this? Like what?" he hurried after her.
Karena laughed. The Doctor may not care what it looked like, but she knew exactly what would be thought of them by any face peering out the window of any one of the houses they passed by on the street. She was a middle-aged woman wearing a fine but disheveled dress with a much younger man trailing after her. Had the Doctor always had that look about him, like an eager, curious puppy seeing the world for the first time? Oh yes, the Guardia would have a lot of questions for the pair of them if they were seen out this late at night.
The Doctor gave up that line of questioning and tried another. "Where did you find a field-interface stabilizer?" he asked. "You might be resourceful enough to sneak an elephant-sized space pod through the middle of the city without raising eyebrows, but you certainly couldn't have built one of those in your basement."
"No, I built it in the library," she said. "I got the specs from the Tardis years ago, and I built that thing myself. It took a couple years, but I only had spare parts to work from." She saw his incredulous look and smiled. "You're not the only clever doc around here, you know."
"Apparently." He thought about that for half a block and then asked another obvious question, "Why?"
"Why what?" There was next to no traffic on these back alleyway roads that she was taking him through, but she still looked both ways before crossing the street.
"Why did you build a field-interface stabilizer? Why did you attach it to that telephone? Of all the things you could have done with that technology, why did you do that? Who were you trying to call?"
She stopped walking, and looked up at the night sky. He looked up, too, but the lingering smoke of ten thousand automobile exhaust pipes and at least as many factory chimneys obscured what little they might have seen of the distant stars and stained the silver half-moon a sickly brown color.
"I've been here, on Earth, for thirteen years, Doctor. Do you have any idea how long I spent making my way across the galaxies, just trying to get here?"
"No, I don't." He really didn't.
"I wanted to get home," she said, "but I never thought any farther than that: getting here, stepping out onto familiar ground, looking up at that ordinary yellow sun in the sky…" She shook her head. "Maybe it was stupid of me to think that I'd be able to pick up where my life left off, that night in Gateway, but at least I thought I'd return closer to my own era. I'd've been glad to arrive years after I'd left, even, at some point where I could lead a normal life again."
"But you ended up here, a hundred years before you were born," he said. He could understand her disappointment.
"They don't have television here!" Karena cried, forgetting her own warning not to draw attention to themselves. "No computers worthy of the name, no phones. Not even those boxy old cell phones that my parents used to complain about, the ones that dropped your calls and had tiny screens that you could barely read. I'm bored here, Doctor. I'm sick of this place." She looked away and hung her head.
"You were trying to call me," he realized. "You thought that I'd give you a ride somewhere else."
"Anywhere else! Anywhere that's heard of space travel outside of a fiction novel!" She smiled at him timidly. "I thought we could travel together again," she said quietly, "forget what had happened between us, forget the old arguments. We could just be friends again." She sighed. "But we were never friends, were we? Not really. I always thought there was something strange when you looked at me, like you were seeing someone else. You said once that you'd met me before, and I thought you meant at Gateway. But you didn't. You meant here, now. You were picturing me, old and bitter." She laughed sadly and started walking again. "Water under the bridge," she muttered. "Matter through a black hole."
The Doctor walked with her silently. He wished he knew what had happened between them. What old arguments was she talking about? When had they travelled together? "I could make a few calls," he offered. "I'm sure I could find someone nearby who could give you a lift over to the next star system. I'd give you a ride myself, I would, but with the other you already in the Tardis… You understand, it's impossible."
"Can we just forget it," she said. "That phone never worked right. I must've tried it a dozen times and it never rang through. Just my luck that it would work tonight." She shrugged her shoulders and put on a smile. "Anyway, I've got a plan B, don't I? And I'm doing alright for myself here. You didn't come here to rescue me, so we should get this over with, get you on your way and get me back to the States."
He looked at her, but she was staring straight ahead. They walked the rest of the way in silence, and the Doctor was grateful for that. He had more than enough to think about already. Even though the streets around them were empty, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. They reached the shop and Karena let them in.
The front room was dark with only a bare gleam from the streetlamps outside to make it through the grimy, paper-covered windows. The Doctor reached for the light switch on the wall next to him.
"Don't touch that!" Karena said, catching hold of his arm. "The valve is rusted solid and the seals are all cracked." She pointed to the gas lamp on the wall overhead. Its glass dome had an inch of dust and cobwebs layered over it.
"The property was neglected after the Professor's father died. It's never been wired for electricity. Wait here a moment." She struck a match and lit a small, kerosene lamp on a shelf near the door. By its dim light, she made her way across the room to the counter at the back wall. The Doctor thought it was strange that she walked around the empty space in the center of the floor, but maybe the floorboards were weak in that place.
Karena ducked down into the shadows behind the corner and a moment later, a bright, electrical light flared. The Doctor blinked and squinted at her as she stood up holding a small, battery-powered lantern with an adjustable leather strap. He recognized the style of lamp; it was the sort usually favored by low-level ships' maintenance engineers. The strap could be fastened onto an arm or around the waist as the engineer crawled through cramped coolant pipes or down cable shafts, making small repairs.
"This way," Karena led him through a door to the back of the shop. As the Doctor passed, he looked around the front room. The building had clearly been abandoned for many years. Without thinking, he walked over the place on the floor that she had avoided, but there was no give under the floorboards. It felt safe enough to him.
"They used to build carriages in this place," she told him as they walked down a short, narrow hall that opened into a much more spacious room in back. Her lamp was too small to light up all the corners, but he calculated from the echo of their footsteps that the room took up the whole of the back of the buiding, with the ceiling actually being the roof two stories up. "The automobile drove them out of business, and the Mr Navarres, senior, bought the property. Navarres, junior, kept the title and died still convinced that the real estate market in this neighborhood would recover."
"It's a fitting place to hide an outdated space pod, anyway," the Doctor said. He took the lamp from her and approached the pod for a better look. The casing was covered in dust just like everything else in the building, and it loomed up like a ghost ship cresting the invisible waves in a space museum.
The pod was about the size of a large carriage, oblong and pock-marked from its long journey. What landing gear it might once have had was gone; Karena had propped it up on two huge blocks of wood, probably the same base that would have held up the body of a carriage fifty years ago. Two double-barreled thrusters stuck out the back like aerodynamic canons, their skirts scorched and flaking with bubbled paint – Even a small pod like this should have been able to withstand a heat of several thousand degrees, but the casing of the left thruster had cracked under the strain. A long, black fissure wide enough for the Doctor to put his hand inside, had opened up from the edge of the skirt all the way through to the engine block.
The weight of the engine at the back meant that the pod sat with its tapered nose in the air. The Doctor raised the lantern as high as he could. The cockpit had sustained a fair amount of damage as well. A huge dent on the underside showed where the first impact of landing had been, and the glass dome over the pilot's seat was cracked, which meant that the airtight seal had been compromised. Even if the life support and climate controls were still functional – which the Doctor doubted, having seen the crack in the engine block – they would be useless outside the protection of Earth's atmosphere.
"Well?" Karena asked. "What do you think?"
"I think it belongs in a scrap yard," he said, "or a museum. Where did you dig up such a relic?"
She didn't say anything.
The Doctor found a wooden stepladder nearby and dragged it over to get a better look at the engine. The sonic screwdriver made short work of the rusted bolts that held the cover down, and he lifted the heavy, metal lid and shone his light inside.
He gave a low whistle. "You've done a lot of work in here," he said, and she had. Almost the entire engine had been refitted, the standard fuel tank replaced with a huge, iron casket, and the ignition switch rerouted toward the front cockpit. "You've modified the fuel injectors?"
"Unfortunately, there's a severe lack of photon drive-compatible jet fuel around here," she said. "The engine runs on regular gasoline now. I suppose I should thank the new automobiles for that! But the filtering system didn't like the viscosity of the new fuel, so I had to switch the automatic injectors to manual."
He raised an eyebrow. "You'd be lucky to fly this thing ten miles, let alone six thousand. This thing will never get you across the Atlantic."
"Of course it will. Here." She forced her way up onto the stepladder next to him and pointed to the bypass wiring. "That's the computer circuit there, see, and next to it is the manual override. I used a clone chip from the navigation system to create a… well, a sort of cruise control. I only have to work the injectors for a couple minutes and then the computer will be able to repeat the sequence. If there's trouble, storm winds or turbulence or something, I can cut in again to modify the sequence, but otherwise it's automatic. Semi-automatic," she said, grinning at her own cleverness.
It was clever, the Doctor had to admit, but it didn't solve all her problems. "You replaced the fuel tank," he said, nodding to the iron casket.
"It was damaged on reentry," she told him.
"And the waste fuel storage?"
"There wasn't room for the new tank so I had to remove it."
He tried not to look at her. If she saw his face, she would know what he was thinking. "With all this damage, the waste storage cells must have been compromised, too. There may have been a radiation leak from the coolant system…"
"I think I can handle a little radiation, Doctor," Karena laughed. "I'm far too old to have any more children, thank you! This building is empty, and so are the shops on either side. Besides, I ejected the fuel storage cells…"
"Where?"
She sighed and climbed down from the ladder. "Into the ocean, where else? When I realized I wouldn't be able to land this thing properly, I ejected what was left of the fuel, the storage cells and the coolant system, anything that might have been ignited by the impact. There may be a few more two-headed dolphins out there than there were before, but that won't cause any lasting damage. It'll be decades before the oceans are depleted, a few fish more or less now won't matter."
"I'll remember to tell that to the dolphins," the Doctor muttered.
"What?"
He shook his head. "Nothing," he said. He hadn't found what he had been looking for, and the dolphins were smart enough to know a radioactive fuel storage cell when they saw one and to steer clear. He reached up to shut the engine hatch.
"You've done about all that can be done here," he admitted. "With what you've had to work with, I'm impressed. I couldn't have… couldn't have done…" As he lowered the cover, the light from the electric lantern passed over a small, dark corner of the engine block near to where the fuel storage cells should have been. He hadn't seen that before because he'd been looking at the engine itself, but something round and white and iridescent, was hanging against the side of the compartment like a cluster of deflated balloons. He felt his hearts sink as his worst suspicions were confirmed.
"You couldn't have done what, Doctor?" Karena asked, smugly. "Couldn't have done a better job that I've done? That's high praise coming from you."
"Carmen where did you say you got this pod?" he asked.
"It came with the ship."
"The ship that you crashed into the sun?"
"Yes, well, there weren't many other places I could've crashed it, were there? I couldn't very well put it down on the moon, could I? And I watched the Venus landing when I was a kid. There was no wrecked spaceship for the astronauts to dig up there, either."
"Where did that ship come from?"
She frowned at him and turned away. "I told you, it was mine."
The Doctor jumped down from the ladder and touched her arm gently. "The truth, Carmen. I can't help you if you don't tell me the truth. It wasn't your ship. Where did you get it?"
"I didn't steal it, if that's what you're implying," she said angrily. "I earned that ship, fair and square." The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Well, I earned it, anyway."
"That captain didn't take you on out of the goodness of his heart, did he? EITC doesn't fly this close to Earth's solar system, and their ships never leave their trade routes. At least, not officially…"
"Lujean was doing some trading off the books," Karena admitted. "His last engineer had skipped out and he couldn't hire a union worker under EITC contract because he couldn't be sure he wasn't hiring a corporate spy..."
"And?" the Doctor prodded.
"And… he needed a mechanic who wouldn't ask questions. I needed transportation off that lump. I told you, the ship I'd had before was confiscated by security. They figured I couldn't leave without it, but Lujean had an old junker in his hold. He'd been told to drop it at the EITC yards for scrap, but he'd held onto it, thinking he could fix it up and sell it down the line."
"So the captain offered you that ship in exchange for your work," the Doctor said, nodding. He was beginning to understand Carmen's way of doing business, and the trade certainly sounded like something she would do.
"I'd been on EITC ships before and knew the layout," Karena explained. "Plus, I'm small enough to fit through the maintenance ducts. You hire a contract engineer, they're big, burly guys, and you've got to pay for two, sometimes three assistants just to crawl through the ducts for him. I agreed to six months work in exchange for an obsolete planet-hopper and Lujean's word that he'd drop me off outside the Sol system."
"But he didn't keep his word, did he?"
She shook her head. "He said I was too good to abandon on a primitive rock in the middle of nowhere, tried to sign me on for another year. He promised to bring me back to Earth after the year was up, and when I refused, he said he'd keep me on one way or another…" She shrugged her shoulders.
The Doctor couldn't help remembering that the reason she'd been forced to trade deals for a ride home and negotiate with aliens like Lujean was because he had taken her from Earth in the first place and he – some future version of himself – had abandoned her somewhere on the other side of the galaxy.
"I signed the contract," Karena went on, "he thought I was resigned to spending another year with him, but as soon as he took his eyes off me, I sabotaged his engines. He didn't drop me off at Pluto. We were still almost a billion miles from the Sol system, but I had no choice. I'd been working on the planet-hopper in my off-time, so I hotwired the starter engine, blew out the cargo bay doors and escaped. It was my ship, after all. I'd earned it. I hadn't spent all those years working two-bit jobs in shady space ports to get as far as I had just to let some pirate captain take me halfway the wrong way across the galaxy again."
"Lujean didn't chase after you?"
"He couldn't. Those engines were bust. He'd be lucky to make it to the nearest space port the way I left him… Or, he would have been lucky if I hadn't sent a transmission back to EITC's corporate office before I left the ship, letting them know exactly what their hotshot captain had been getting up to…" She sighed and turned to look at him. "I had a good story. What gave it away?"
He nodded to the pod. "Any ship that carried a pod like that would be ancient, derelict. You're a good mechanic. I can't see you flying a junk-heap like that across the galaxy unless you had to."
"Carmen, truthfully, how long since you arrived on Earth?" he asked.
"Thirteen years," she said.
"And how long since you brought the pod into the city?"
"Just over three years," she said. "Why do you ask?"
"You're sure that you dumped all the radioactive fuel cells into the ocean on reentry? There was a lot going on, and you couldn't have been sure, with the damage your ship had already taken, there wasn't some trace left behind?"
"Of course I'm sure. What are you getting at, Doctor? Give me that!" She grabbed the lantern out of his hand and climbed the stepladder again, holding her long skirt out of the way with one hand. She wrenched open the hatch and shone the light into the engine, but she'd been over the pod a hundred times since her landing. There was nothing new to see.
"You saw something that I missed," she said, turning round and scowling down at him. "What is it? You can't help but show off, acting all clever. No one else can be as clever as you, so what is it? Tell me!" She jumped down to the floor with a spring in her step that no forty-year-old woman should have had.
"I can't be sure…" he said. But he was sure. There was no other explanation. The timeline was right. He'd suspected the truth when he'd seen the sonic's readings back at the Tardis, but now he had all the evidence he needed. He just wished that he were wrong.
"You had this in mind all along, didn't you?" Karena said, furious. "You tricked me to get a look at my pod. Well, go on then! Show us how brilliant you are! Two hundred years, I've been on my own, and I survived! No thanks to you. And every time I get settled, you show up and ruin everything. You think I'm just some toy you can pick up and play with whenever you lose another one of your pretty companions? You think I'll always be here waiting for you, to hand you your spanner and tell you how brilliant you are? Well I'm not, and I won't. I'm tired of this! I'm tired of you! I am not your other woman!"
"My… my other what?" he stared at her. Two hundred years? But that was impossible. Whatever she may be, Carmen was still human, and humans did not live over two hundred years and still look middle-aged.
Before Karena could start shouting again, a loud noise from the front of the shop startled them both. Someone was trying to open the locked door. There was a tentative knock and a woman's voice, muffled with tears, called, "Karena? Seniorita Andalucía, estas ahi? Por favor, are you there, Miss Karena?"
"Were you expecting company?" the Doctor whispered.
"Paola," Karena said. "She must have seen the light out front. What is she doing here? It's after midnight…" She moved toward the door, but the Doctor caught her arm.
"You can't let her inside. You can't let her see this!" He gestured toward the escape pod.
"I know her. She's stubborn. If she saw the light, then she won't leave, and she'll bring others here who'll ask more questions. I'll keep her in the front room." Karena shook off his hand. "You stay back here, out of the way. I'm more worried about trying to explain you."
She turned to go, and acting on an impulse, the Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver and scanned her back as she walked away. The sonic hummed quietly as it took readings of all her vital signs, and he tucked it away quickly into his pocket before she could look around and see what he was doing. He nodded to her, and she frowned at him, suspicious, but Paola was knocking again. While Karena hurried into the front room to answer the door, the Doctor hid himself in the shadows of the narrow hallway to listen in on what was said between the two women.
Karena stepped quickly across the floor of the shop's front room. As she circled the large, round table in the center of the room, she suddenly stopped and rocked back on her feet, feeling light headed and dizzy. She started to put out her hand, but there was no table. There had never been a table there… at least, not as long as she'd owned the place.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was all the Doctor's fault, showing up like this after all these years and after the way he'd left her. She'd had a good grip on things and had finally begun to feel at home in her own skin, but of course he'd brought back old feelings, and old… difficulties. She let out her breath slowly and when she opened her eyes, the table was gone. She hurried to unlock the door and opened it to find a trembling, red-eyed Paola on the steps outside.
"Cariña! What are you doing here? And in the middle of the night! You don't want trouble." Karena ushered Paola into the shop and shut the door behind her. She whipped out a handkerchief and wiped the younger woman's teary eyes.
"Oh, Señorita Andalucía, you were not at your house, but I had to speak to you. There was an Englishman! He said that he knew you, and he knew about Angél! Please, Karena, tell me you are not still looking for my brother. Angél is dead. He is gone. No good can come of awakening old griefs!" Paola burst into tears, and Karena wrapped her arms around the woman. She knew immediately what had happened. The Doctor had happened, as usual.
"No, Paola. What would make you think that? That man was a newspaperman. He came to my door, too, and asked me all sorts of questions. I told him to go away. He was no friend of mine."
"But he knew… He asked about the Goblin. How could he know about my grandmother's goblin?"
"Probably he heard about it from Pascualina. You know how she likes to tell tall tales. Paola, I loved your brother like my own family. Do you think I would go telling his story to strangers and newspapermen?"
"So you are not looking into his disappearance again?" Paola demanded. "I did not think that you would do that, but the note you sent me this morning, and it was that man who was waiting for me here… What are you doing here, Karena? Your words are different, and you do not look like yourself." Paola stepped back and looked her up and down. "You are younger, somehow…"
"The dim light flatters me," Karena said quickly, "and your eyes are tired from all the sewing you do. Why are you out so late? You should be home in bed. Does your aunt know you're here?"
Paola shook her head. Karena sighed. She hadn't meant for Paola to run into the Doctor the way she had. She hadn't known that he would follow her to the shop. She crossed her fingers that he would keep quiet and say back until she could see the woman off.
"I have something for you," Karena said, fishing the envelope out of her skirt pocket. In her hurry to catch a glimpse of the Doctor's Tardis she had forgotten to post the letter earlier in the night. "I'm taking a trip soon, and I don't know how long I will be gone. Maybe years, maybe longer. You have been a good friend, my only friend, and I want you to take this." She pressed the envelope into Paola's protesting hands. "There is money there, for you and for Sofia and Miguel, enough to open your own sewing shop. Promise me that you will do it."
"Karena, I cannot-"
"I've inherited a great deal of money from a distant uncle," Karena lied. "Please, take this little bit. I have so much more. I want you to be taken care of. It is the least I can do… for Angél."
Paola hesitated, and then nodded. She tucked the envelope into her pocket. "You were like a mother to him," she said. "He called you Madrastra." She smiled fondly and pulled Karina close. "You must write to me," she said. "I will miss you, mi amiga extraña."
"I will try to write," Karena said, holding the young woman tight. It would have been easier to mail the letter, but she was glad to say goodbye to her friend face-to-face. She hadn't appreciated her own mother and father when she'd had them, and they had all been left behind when the Doctor stole her away. It would be nearly another hundred years before Carmen could hug her mother again, and even then, she knew, she wouldn't be able to do it. She was too old, and too changed, to go home now.
She let go of Paola and urged her gently toward the door. "Hurry home, Cariña," she said, "and be careful!"
"Buenas noches, Karena, Adiós."
"Adiós, Paola," Karena said, shutting the door behind her. "Goodbye." She leaned her forehead against the cold door and wiped a tear from her eye. The Doctor was waiting, and she was still angry with him, she reminded herself. She put out the kerosene lamp in the front room – to avoid any further interruptions - and walked back, not bothering to step around the place where the old shop table used to stand, piled high with catalogues and swatches of fabric for carriage seats for long-gone customers to paw through.
The Doctor was waiting for her at the far end of the hall. "You were very close with that girl," he commented.
She nodded. "When I first landed, I was terrified of interfering, of changing the future, changing history. You'd always made such a big deal about it. But eventually, I figured one person couldn't change all that much by accident. Still, it's hard to make friends when you have to keep so many things a secret. Paola never cared about my past, as long as I was with her in the moment. She's a good person. Better than I am."
"And the two of you are…" he chose his words more carefully. "The last time I saw you, you'd been dating a woman."
"Mia," Karena said, nodding. "She's dead. Or, she will be, in another hundred years or so."
"And you and Paola are…" he cleared his throat.
Karena stared at him. "How could you think that!" she said, horrified. "Honestly, Doctor, you've been around aliens too much!"
"She's a very attractive woman," he said, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. "And you two were very… affectionate. Very close. Almost like… almost like family." Realization suddenly dawned on him. The same dark eyes, the same red hair. The way that Carmen spoke of Angél as if he were her own child. Not her child, but…
"Paola is my great-great-grandmother," Karena said, staring at him and daring him to criticize her for interfering in her own family history. "You met Sofia at the boarding house? A little girl with reddish-blonde hair? She is my great-grandmother, Paola's daughter, though she calls her sister to keep the gossips at bay."
"And Angél?" the Doctor asked.
"He was really Paola's younger brother. I didn't realize who he was when he first showed up on the Professor's doorstop. It wasn't until later, after I met his sister…" Karena smiled. "Little Sofia Elizondo will move to France after the war, and her eldest daughter, my grandmother, Angélita Elizondo Martin will become a famous singer in Paris. She will be very beautiful, and her husband will be very jealous. After he threatens to kill one of her lovers, she will escape to America where she will marry again, a much more forgiving man, and give birth to a son, my father, Miguel Ortiz, who will one day meet and marry my mother, Maria Santiago."
"And they will have a daughter," the Doctor finished for her, "Carmen Satiago Ortiz, the brave adventuress and reluctant time-traveller." He shook his head. "It is dangerous, you know, meddling in time. Things happen, bad things that you cannot control."
"What bad?" Karena said. "I had nothing to do with Angél's disappearance. No one in my family ever said anything about a great-uncle Angél, and after so many years, no one will remember Karena Andalucía, the one-time friend of tatara abuela Paola who disappeared into the night after inheriting a fortune from her rich, dead uncle."
"No, I suppose they won't," the Doctor admitted. He glanced at the escape pod in the middle of the carriage factory floor. He thought of the empty egg sack near the fuel cell casing, and the crack in the engine block. He thought of the sempry, huge and hungry, mutated by radiation that couldn't possible have come from Earth. It would be easier to keep this secret to himself, but if he was going to have any chance of catching the creature, and of preventing it from killing anyone else's child, then he would need Carmen's help. This was her ship, and she knew the streets of Zaragoza. Also, he was reluctant to admit, her technical skill was almost as good as his. He couldn't hope to find anyone on this planet as good as she was when it came to adapting 1930s machinery to technology so much more advanced.
"Carmen, there's something you should know about the sempry…" he said. "I think I know how the creature that killed Angél ended up on Earth."
Woohoo! I bet you thought I'd never write a new chapter :)
Please leave a review or something! I love getting your feedback and answering your questions. And if you don't, then I'll have to start making up my own questions to answer! Like this:
Question: How the heck did Carmen/Karena get a carriage-sized space ship through town without anyone noticing?
Answer: She hired a blind men's moving company to move it in the middle of the night. *ba dum tsh*
That's not the real answer, but wouldn't it be better to ask your own questions, anyway ;)
-Paint
