Chapter 2

"I hope you can help," Chelle said as the Doctor stepped inside.

She closed the front door and Tommy walked down the stairs, saw the tall, grey haired man who had walked in, took in the sight of his spray gun and protective clothing and made a guess.

"Are you the flea man? We had one last year too when mum got bitten."

Chelle turned to her son and shot him a look that said the kitchen incident was not forgotten.

"Sorry about that," she said, "My son didn't mean to be rude."

"I'm not offended," he replied, and he looked to Tommy, "They call me the Doctor. I'm here to exterminate a pest problem."

"And you should be up in your room, Tommy," his mum reminded him, and he gave a sigh, turned away and trudged back up the stairs.

"What did he do wrong?" the Doctor asked.

A flash of anger came and went from Chelle's eyes.

"He makes up stories about monsters. Don't worry about it. Maybe you should start in the front room. I want everything sprayed -"

"Maybe you should tell me about the monsters," the Doctor replied, and then he smiled, "I was a boy once - a long time ago - and I remember I loved making up stories, too."

She paused, looked into his pale blue eyes and wondered why this stranger was so easy to talk to. But after the morning she had suffered with the kitchen getting wrecked, she guessed it couldn't hurt to talk to someone who was more than willing to listen.

"It's since his dad got a job working overseas – Tommy's changed, it's like he's crying out for attention. I don't know why, he gets everything he wants -"

"What does Tommy do?" the Doctor asked her.

She gestured to the front room, and the Doctor followed her in, where she pushed the door closed but kept her voice low.

"Every month on a full moon he gets up in the middle of the night and wrecks the kitchen. He takes everything out of the fridge and smashes it. Then he tells me a monster did it in the middle of the night!"

"Maybe it did."

"What?" she said in surprise.

The Doctor shrugged.

"I'm just saying, children have big imaginations. We forget how it used to be when we grow up. We lose that scope to see beyond the ordinary."

"And I don't know why I'm telling the exterminator all of this," she said, sounding weary, "I guess I've just had enough of it. Six months this has been going on, six months of lies from my son and him vandalising the kitchen in the middle of the night. It has to stop."

There was a look in her eyes that said she was afraid for her son. He also knew at a glance that if Chelle had ever believed in the existence of creatures outside of the ordinary, she had packed that away a long time ago.

"Can I see your rash?" he asked her, "If you don't mind showing me?"

"Sure," she replied, and turned her arm over.

The Doctor glanced at it and then his eyes turned upward to the ceiling as he thought about where he needed to be.

"I really need to take a look in the bathroom first," he told her, "I don't think any of my bug spray will do any good down here. You look tired. Why don't you go and make a cup of tea and sit down? Don't worry about me, I can handle everything."

He smiled again, and she agreed at once.

"I'll welcome the rest," she replied, "The bathroom is upstairs, the third door on the right."

Then she left the room and headed for the kitchen.

The Doctor walked to the bottom of the stairway and looked up, knowing his bug spray would be useless, but he had all he needed to draw out the creatures in his pocket - alien technology he really couldn't let her see, so it was a good thing that she was out of the way...

But as he climbed the stairway, instinct began to creep over him that this would be a little more tricky than he first thought. It was just a feeling, but one he had learned to listen to long ago...

By the time he got to the top of the stairway and looked to the bathroom door, he paused for a moment, feeling tense as he held his breath and then let it out slowly as he hoped the ancient colony of creatures were not too hungry. Going by what he had picked up on the scanner they looked to be very active, which meant they were offspring – which considering the species, could be very lively indeed:

Lively and hungry and far from home and just about ready to devour anything...

Tommy was hiding in the bath when the door swung open, he was out of sight but the string that led from the stick on the propped open toilet seat to the boy who was hiding was pretty obvious.

The Doctor put down his exterminator spray and as Tommy got up and climbed out of the bath still holding on to the string, he saw what else he had in his hand and then looked at him with a worried expression.

"I can understand you wanting to catch a monster with a stick and some string," he said, "But why the hammer, Tommy?"

He looked up at the Doctor and the TimeLord saw real fear in his eyes.

"I don't think you're here about fleas," he said in a low voice.

"And I don't think you are making up stories about a monster," the Doctor replied, "I've seen all sorts of things in my rather long life, and if you think you hear something splashing and slipping and sliding and shifting about in the dark, and you think it's a creature, I think you could well be right."

The boy's eyes widened as he looked at the Doctor in surprise.

"You believe me?"

"Of course I do," the Doctor replied, "But you didn't answer my question."

Tommy's eyes clouded with confusion.

"About what?"

"About the hammer."

"It's part of my monster trap."

The doctor looked at the objects Tommy was holding.

"Let me see...the stick is to prop the toilet seat open, the string is to tug on it to trap the creature as it climbs out...but what is the hammer for?"

Tommy looked up at him with resentment burning in his eyes.

"To kill it."

"Why would you want to do that?" the Doctor exclaimed.

"Because it wrecks the house and my mum blames me."

The Doctor leant forward, eye level with the boy.

"It's called a Syrret Corrinth, its part of an ancient species that were here before the lamprey eels – and they have been around for a very long time. They survived the ice age, they out lived the dinosaurs and survived deep in lakes and rivers. They are so old and so well hidden that no one knows they still exist."

"So how come you know?" Tommy asked him suspiciously.

The Doctor straightened up.

"Because I'm the Doctor," he said, "I know a lot of things. Most importantly, I know you have no business attacking one of those creatures with a hammer! Its a baby, the adults spawn their young and then die. And it's not the only one that's found its way into the suburbs...fracking destroyed its natural habitat and its whole colony had to leave, they went up stream. They followed some kind of drainage system to get here. Your house looks quite old, do you know when it was built?"

Tommy shook his head.

"Well it looks like it was built around nineteen thirty to me," the Doctor replied, "And if there's an old drainage system around here, that explains how it found its way from there into your plumbing system."

Tommy thought about it.

"Where would the drainage thing be?"

"Outside under the ground of course! Think, have you ever heard your parents mention anything about a deep ditch near here?"

"No..." then he remembered something, "Yes! There's a scary tunnel that runs through the garden, dad found it when he was digging to lay a base for the garden shed. It was this hole in the ground and a big steep drop and I saw like a sort of tunnel, with concrete and some water in it? Is that what you mean?"

The Doctor smiled.

"That's exactly what I mean!" he said excitedly, "Thank you Tommy – that's all I need to know. And don't worry about next full moon – they only seek to feed once a month, the poor things must be starving. But I can take it from here."

He saw disappointment in Tommy's eyes.

"But I want to catch one!"

"And do what, bash its brains in?"

"Why not, it is a monster!"

The Doctor gave a sigh.

"Humans," he muttered, and then he addressed the boy who had no understanding of the bigger picture, because clearly, no one else ever could set the record straight on this subject for him:

"Just because something is scary looking, or plain ugly, it doesn't make it bad. I've met a race of creatures that look like something out of a nightmare - what you would definitely call a monster - and all they want to do is help and serve others – they're gentle souls called the Ood. I've also met another race with gleaming, very shiny silver bodies that look like mere robots, and they are one of the most evil species I've ever met – the Cybermen. Looks can be deceptive. Not all monsters are evil and not all that is evil looks like a monster. Don't judge a book by its cover, Tommy. You humans make that mistake too often."

Tommy was thinking. He fell silent, frowned as he considered all the Doctor had said, and then asked a question.

"So what are these Syrret Corrinth, what do they look like?"

The Doctor cast him a knowing glance.

"I know what you think they look like. Slimy, huge mouth, big teeth?"

He nodded.

"And you're right," the Doctor added, "Like a lamprey but a bigger mouth and razor sharp teeth and a spiky fin that runs along its back. Ugly creature but harmless in its proper environment. And that is what your creature looks like, not so much a nine eyed eel as a nine eyed monster. That's what they used to call lampreys many years ago - nine eyed eels. "

"Is it harmless, then?"

"Ah, well that's a bit tricky..." the Doctor paused for thought, scratched the back of his neck and then looked down at Tommy.

"We should be kind to them."

"You're lying. They are dangerous!"

"No I'm just pointing out they are potentially dangerous if I don't remove them. They don't know what to eat, they've never been taught, there's no food supply. They usually eat microorganisms whilst burrowed in lake and river beds - but these were spawned and then forced out, so they don't know what to eat and everything they try makes them feel sick. A couple of them have been finding there way up from the drainage system and into your house, hence the mess in the kitchen. They don't eat anything, they just trash it because it's not their kind of food. It's a good thing really or they'd all be coming up from under the ground."

Tommy's eyes widened in fright.

"And then what?" he whispered.

Eat humans, the Doctor thought grimly as he forced a smile.

"And then you'd have funny looking creatures coming for tea, wouldn't you!" he said, but the boy still looked worried.

"You said something I don't get. You said humans like you're not."

"Not what?" he asked innocently, but this kid was bright and missed nothing as he gave him a look that demanded the truth.

"Okay," the Doctor admitted, "I'm not from this planet. I'm from a place a long way from Earth, called Gallifrey. I hope that doesn't make me a monster too – I'm keeping my eye on that hammer of yours!"

"I wouldn't hurt you!" Tommy said in alarm, "I'm not a psycho!"

"Like I said," he reminded him, "You can't judge a book by its cover but for the record, I'm not evil. If I was, I wouldn't be here to help a dying species."

Then the Doctor went over to the widow, opened it up and looked out into the garden.

"Where's the drainage ditch?"

Tommy was beside him at once pointing next to the shed.

"Are we going to dig it up?"

The Doctor gave a sigh and turned to him with an I-don't-think-so expression.

"No, I just needed to know the exact location in relation to the house. Now I know it all makes sense and I can go away and sort this out. Thanks for your help, Tommy. And you won't have to worry about monsters any more, I'm going to take them all away."

And he picked up his exterminating equipment and left the room.

Tommy turned sharply, watching him leave.

"Wait!" he called.

The Doctor had reached the top of the stairs, and he turned back as Tommy ran to catch up with him.

"What now?" he grumbled, feeling his patience starting to wear thin.

"I want to help!"

"You can help buy throwing away that monster trap and putting the hammer back in the garden shed where it belongs. And remember what I said about not judging by appearance. That's all. I have to go."

"Is it all done?"

Tommy stepped out of sight as his mum looked up the stairs.

"Yes, all taken care of," the Doctor replied as he made his way down to meet her, "I've got rid of the problem. But if I were you I'd wash the towels and clean the bathroom because you're clearly sensitive to irritation from the harmless parasites the host carried."

"What host?" she asked, "You mean something that came in was carrying something else?"

The Doctor walked with her towards the front door and smiled as he reached out to open it.

"That's exactly what I mean – the Siphonaptera."

"What's that?" she asked in alarm, and he quickly put her straight on it before she started imagining monster invasions of strangely named biting bugs:

"It's a nursery rhyme, often referred to simply as Fleas: Big fleas have little fleas upon their backs to bite 'em, and little fleas have lesser fleas, and so, ad infinitum. Consider your problem solved. And don't be too hard on young Tommy, boys that age can't help having an imagination. Goodbye, Mrs Taylor."

And then he left the house and walked away without looking back, silently making his plans to remove the creatures when night fell.

But if he had looked back, if he had turned his head and looked over his shoulder and up at the bedroom window, he would have seen Tommy standing there watching him leave, and he would have seen the look in they boy's eyes, he would have known determination burned in his gaze - because he had already made up his mind to watch out for the Doctor, who he knew would be coming back, and when he did, he wanted to go with him and find out exactly what these creatures looked like...

He also had many questions too – because the Doctor was from another world. He wanted to know about space and his travels, and he wanted to see his ship. He wanted to know everything and tonight, he was going to watch and wait, because this time he wasn't laying a trap for a monster, he was going to follow a man from outer space instead...

When night fell, the Doctor was ready.

He made his way back to the house, went around the alley and let himself in using his sonic screwdriver to pop the lock on the back gate. The time was just about to hit the witching hour and the moon was part covered by cloud as here and there breaks showed through an inky sky where starlight twinkled. The street was silent, the lights were all out in the houses, most importantly, the lights in Tommy's house were out - and the Doctor was relieved about that, because the last thing he wanted was to go under the ground, be confronted by a colony of starving creatures and find an eleven year old kid had decided to join him... this was potentially dangerous, a lot more than he had let on to Tommy, simply because of how hungry those creatures were...

He carefully set the sonic screwdriver on the right setting and pointed it downwards and then activated it, watching as it gave off a low buzz and the ground began to shake and then dip and then the the earth ran downwards, like sand through an hourglass.

As he watched the soil slip down into the hole, he turned his wrist slightly, directing the flow of the manipulated earth to make a slope, and then he switched off the screwdriver, put it in his pocket and carefully began to climb down the slope, into darkness underground, deeper and deeper still until he was at least nine feet below. Then he looked about at the strips of light that lined the tunnel whilst above, a ceiling of earth was decorated with the roots of trees and shrubs that poked through like old bones breaking through soil.

"What are those strips of light on the floor?" asked a voice behind him.

The Doctor had been busy looking ahead through the gloom, working out where to step and how to do it carefully as he made his way along the tunnel, and he answered the question with his gaze still set towards the dim distant end where the drainage ditch turned.

"That's the skin of the creatures. They shed their skin on a regular basis as they grow, leaving behind a phosphorous essence, which glows in the dark..."

Then his eyes widened as he realised who he was talking to. The Doctor turned around, and there was Tommy, in the tunnel behind him.

The boy looked up at him with no hint of apology in his eyes.

"I just wanted to see them," he said.

And then from far up the other end of the tunnel, there came a screech and the sound of something rushing through the shallow water.

They both turned to see a large, dark, shadowy mass rushing towards them and in the glow of the phosphorus light it looked slippery, its spiny fins bumped against the earthen ceiling making dirt scatter downwards. Its mouth was open showing a circular ring of sharp teeth as many dark eyes, small as pin pricks shone black as night.

And it was coming straight at them.

As Tommy froze in terror, the Doctor looked to the beast as it lunged forwards, rushing closer by the second as it screeched again. It was then the Doctor decided to skip the lecture about how Tommy really shouldn't have followed him into this place, because it was too late for that now...

"There it is Tommy," he said as he reached for his hand and prepared to tell him to run, "That's what it looks like. That's your nine eyed monster..."