WELL. I think I could have done a lot better with this chapter, but it is as it is. Anyway, another update later tonight.
Because tonight we say goodbye to the Ponds.
:/
8th May, 2012. Kalaupapa, Hawaii.
The groundskeeper who watched the graveyard had been raised a superstitious man. And if there was anything he treasured in the little things he had, it was his faith.
He believed that Satan's workers came out in storms.
In the shelter of the porch of his little hut on the edge of the graveyard, he kept a close watch on the land he looked after, gun on his lap. He'd seen never a devil before, no sir, but tonight was as good a night as any for them. Absently, he watched the palm trees sway in the raging wind, and the rain lash out the ground. Yep. The best kind of night for devils.
He was just about to turn to make the tea that had just boiled when he heard one. At once he dropped his mug, where it smashed on the wooden floor of the porch, and readied his shotgun. It clicked assuredly, and he pointed it out into the darkness with one hand, his other going to his neck and tightly holding the cross he had around his neck. The devil was getting louder, and it began to test his faith inside his mind. He'd remain a man of the Lord though, all the way until this devil dragged him to hell.
And then suddenly, the noise stopped. Everything was silent except for the storm, but still the groundskeeper kept his gun trained into the dark.
And then the devil began to speak to him.
'Hello…? Anyone there?'
They came. A whole band of them, emerging from the darkness. The chief led the way, dressed like a Christian in tweed and a bowtie but not a Christian, no sir. A woman with red her and skin the whitest he'd ever seen was on his left, and a man who looked lost on his right. Behind him came five men, one with a red hat, one dressed in red and white, one in orange, one in red and blue and another in blue and green. The red and white one carried a lantern, and the one in red and blue carried a shovel on his shoulder.
'Excuse me, hello?' the one in the tweed asked, stepping into the light of the hut and spotting the groundskeeper. 'Ah! Hello! Could you tell us where Father Damien is buried?'
The groundskeeper stared, and his hand tightened on his cross. 'And what will you be wanting with that information?'
The man in the tweed awkwardly fiddled with his hands. 'We're, uh – we're mourners. We've come to mourn Father Damien.'
The groundskeeper frowned. 'That man's been dead for a hundred years.'
'We're very old friends.'
The groundskeeper didn't believe him. 'Now you just take yourselves out of here before I blow you to sky high.' He said, waving his gun. The man in tweed stepped back, raising his hands, but the man dressed in red and white robes drew a sword from his side and stepped forward in front of him.
'We came in peace, but if you mean to threaten us then you will regret it.' He promised over the howl of the storm.
And then his eyes turned gold. He looked at the groundskeeper with them golden eyes, and he knew he wasn't looking at a devil. He was looking at something much worse. One of them vengeful angels his mother always told him about. He recoiled at once, and lowered his gun in a sharp snap.
'He's in his grave.'
The devil in tweed gave him a funny sort of look. 'Yes, well. We gathered that. Where is the grave though?'
'S'where he first slept when he came to this land. Underneath that big old tree in the center of the graveyard. Can't miss it. Now do your mourning and get.'
The angel said thank you in a tongue he didn't recognize but knew anyway, and the groundskeeper flinched in the wake of the paradox. The man in tweed nodded a little awkwardly, and the whole group shuffled away from the gate keeper's house. He stood on the porch and watched the howling dark swallow them all, one by one, before he gathered up his equipment with a huge clatter and ran inside. He slammed the door, threw across the bolts, and turned out the light with bible in hand. Although no one could hear it outside, the gate keeper began to pray.
Oh lord save me,
There's devils I can't see.
'You must admire the man, Doctor!' Leonardo called over the storm as they all struggled towards the tree in the center of the graveyard that was unmistakably the one the gate keeper had referred to. 'His faith was tested, and he did not yield until he had no choice!'
'I would have rather he just told us where to go!' Amy yelled back, quite fed up of being soaked through. Rory had his arms around her, and was trying to shelter her from most of the downpour, but it really wasn't much use.
'I second that!' La Vope called back.
'What?!'
'I said I second that!'
'What?!'
'I said – oh, forget it!' La Volpe swore loudly over the wind.
'Blasted storm!' Bartolomeo growled beside him. 'It is barely the state to do such deeds!'
'It will soon be over, friend!' La Volpe encouraged him. Bartoloemo's scoff was lost to the storm.
'I hope so, or else I shall dig myself a grave!'
Beyond them, Machiavelli huffed as he adjusted the weight of the shovel on his shoulder. 'You are positive, Doctor, that there is a Piece of Eden here?'
'Yes! Of course! A hundred percent! Well, maybe ninety. Eighty more like, but it'll be there! I wouldn't hint at it otherwise! Unless I was playing games, but I don't think I would!'
'Machiavelli seeks reassurance, Doctor! As we all do!' Ezio called back, leading the way with the lantern held out in front of him.
'Er, chin up everybody! It'll be there!'
It was a few moments of terse silence before they got to the tree – sure enough, a headstone was underneath it, with Father Damien's name etched onto the stone. The Doctor looked expectantly at everyone as they gathered around it, swaying with the unrelenting wind and rain. 'Well?' He shouted. Machiavelli glanced at the shovel in his hand, and abruptly passed it to La Volpe, who shot him a look of contempt and passed it to Rory. Rory looked towards Amy, who shot him such a nasty look that he shoved it at Leonardo, who stepped back and motioned at Ezio. Ezio took it in hand, judged the weight, and wordlessly passed it to Bartolomeo. He stood with no one to press it onto, and growled.
'È puzzolente mucchi di merda di cavallo.' He said platonically as he placed the shovel's point into the wet earth and stepped on it as he began to dig. His efforts were impressive – within half an hour of digging, the top of the shovel struck wood. He stopped at the sound, and looked up out of the grave and at the group, who clustered around it.
'I won't do it,' he said finally.
'Wait…' Ezio said, stepping forward. There was something very compelled about his look: he had an idea, a purpose. He raised his hand, and made a slight beckoning motion with his fingers. His eyes took on their abnormal focus, and under the Bartolomeo's feet, the earth began to shudder. He swore loudly and scrambled out of the grave, helped by La Volpe and Machiavelli with an arm each, and he turned to see the earth part and a glow emit from the gap. As if lifted by some force, there was a gentle crack, and a glowing sphere floated gently out of the grave and stopped to hover just above it, bobbing in the air like a buoy in a gentle current. Ezio, his eyes still golden, reached out and took the Piece of Eden. Its glow died at once, and the slight hum it was emitting was silenced as soon as it touched his palm. Ezio's eyes cleared, and he stepped back with a slight sway, as if the action had been tiring. He blinked thoroughly, and gazed at the object in his hands.
'We have it.' He said quietly.
Everyone's agreement was silent. The only sound was the roar of the storm.
'What now?' Asked Leonardo quietly. Beside him, the Doctor frowned.
'I'm not sure.'
They stayed there for a while, shivering, until the groundskeeper finally turned out the light in his hut.
As if the dark could save him.
As if the dark could save any of them.
WELL. That chapter's that. Are we ready for Doctor Who tonight?
CUZ I KNOW I'M NOT.
:(