The inside was little better than the external appearance. There was a small fire and grimy table beside it, on which rested a hunk of meat which oozed blood, some of which was dripping onto the ground. A pile of rags in the corner seemed to indicate a bed of some sort, and surrounding it were several bottles, some of which were half full, the brown glass twinkling in the low light the fire gave off. A couple of slightly broken looking chairs were placed beside the table. At Matros' insistence, the Doctor took the one closest to the fire. Matros swung towards his bed and picked up one of the bottles which still had drink in it. The liquid sloshed languidly around as he pulled the cork out with his teeth, then offered the bottle to the Doctor. Curious, but not wanting to actually drink any, he took a sniff. His eyes began to water as the smell of stale cherries and rotten strawberries wafted out. Choking back a cough, he shook his head and handed the bottle back to Matros, who took a swig,
"So, what do you wanna know?"
The Doctor thought. He hadn't decided exactly what to question Matros on; Andy's past, where she had come from or this supposed parasite. He decided to try for her past first,
"I hear you were the one who brought Andy here. How did you find her?" At this Matros gave a snort. The Doctor's brow furrowed, wondering what he had said to bring out such a reaction.
"Didn't find her," taking another swig, Matros' eyes seemed to glaze slightly, as if he were remembering, "Had her thrust at me and told to watch over her. Keep her safe, protect her." Returning to the present, and obviously seeing the glare in the Doctor's eyes, Matros took yet another drink.
"Yes, well, you did that well, didn't you," the Doctor snarled. Matros glared back,
"I tried, alright. I did. She was normal at first. That I could handle. She pretty much looked after herself anyway. But then the freaky stuff started and I…she wasn't sleeping naturally and she…I didn't know what to do. Just kept telling her not to be so obvious with it. I'd already been chucked off one planet. Didn't want to be chucked off another."
"What did you do?" the Doctor asked, now seeing the drinking for something other than normal alcoholism. Matros seemed to be drinking to try and forget.
"Didn't do anything. Damn government. We were supposed to put all our business ledgers out, make all our transactions known. Well, there were a few things I'd rather the government didn't know, so I scarpered before my ledgers saw the light of day. Got on this ship, seemed to be full of people heading away from trouble. Anyway, we fly into an asteroid field and the shields fall down. Ship starts breaking up, everybody's panicking. I find a shuttle all to myself and try to take off, but this woman stops me. She puts this baby carrier in with me and tells me to guard her with my life," he took another drink, "Then she slaps me, good and hard, right across the face and tells me that I deserve it," the Doctor smirks at that, doesn't even try to hide it. Matros grimaces, "Anyway, she sets the coordinates and then off we go. Me and this little gurgling cot. I open it, and there's this tiny little thing, all tucked up, like nothing in the world can hurt her. And then her eyes open. And these big green eyes are staring at me and asking me for things I can't give and I just know, I know, that I'm gonna do what the woman asked. I'm gonna, cause I can't look away from that face." Matros sighed. The Doctor was startled at the true emotion that came out of Matros' mouth. He had cared for Andy, even if it was only the baby version of her. And still cared enough to be ashamed of what he hadn't done, as he recalled the scene from yesterday.
"You didn't do enough," he stated. Matros looked up, anger in his eyes,
"You think it was easy? They were coming, baying for blood, they wanted the witch burned, they said. I did what I could, told her to run into the woods, to keep away from them. Then the Mayor comes, says he's got a plan that can benefit everyone. So I listen, and I don't like it, but it's better than her being burnt to a crisp and I let them take her, even as I hear her screaming for me to help." At this last part Matros tipped the bottle up and drained the rest of it. The Doctor sat in stunned silence.
"You did try, didn't you?"
"It seemed like a good idea at the time. I still hear her screaming as they drag her away. She hates me now. Never forgave me for that."
"Nor will she," Matros glared at him again, his eyes bleary from the alcohol, then he sighed and put his head in his hands.
"I know."
They sat in silence like that for what felt like hours. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and Matros' heavy breathing. Finally the Doctor just had to know.
"What happened that summer day, nine years ago? What happened the night she came back from hide and seek?" Matros sighed,
"I don't know," sniffing he sat up straight, surreptitiously wiping one of his eyes, "I still don't truly know. The way she put it, some kids asked her to play, so she joins in. The other kids never really liked playing with her, thought she was too weird. But that day was warm and sunny and they just wanted to play. Anyway, the others go off to hide, but Andy stays hidden, or so they think, and they can't find her anywhere. Eventually, about sundown, she comes stumbling back, holding her left hand in her right. I walk out and see that her little finger is bleeding. She says she found a cave at the base of the mountain, thought it looked like a good hiding place, so, like any kid, she climbs in. Says she cut her finger on one of the sharp stones. Then there was a voice," Matros' shivered, "A voice that called to her, called her by name. She wondered if someone else had found the cave, so naturally she walks in, trying to find the friend. But she doesn't. All she sees is more and more…dark," again he shivered, and the Doctor had to stifle one of his own, "Eventually she says it was like the voice surrounded her and she shouted at it to stop. But it just kept coming closer. She says she put up her hand to stop it coming, and then the voice vanished. And she was alone and cold and when she found her way out it was getting late, so she just headed straight home, like the good girl she was." Matros sniffed to finish his story and tried to take another sip, before remembering that the bottle was empty. He looked towards the bed, but the Doctor didn't want to have to deal with a drunk,
"I think you've had enough for just now." Matros kept looking over at the bed, then seemed to decide that no, he couldn't be bothered getting up, so he put the empty bottle down on the table.
"She was a good kid," he mumbled, "Strange but she'd never hurt a fly. It shouldn't have found her. It shouldn't have taken her."
"The parasite? The monster under the bed?"
"Don't name it," Matros said quickly, his drink-brightened eyes wide, "Don't name it and call it here."
"So you think it has Andy? That it's inside her?" Bowing his head Matros muttered,
"Yes."
"And you still let them take her?" The Doctor almost spat in his anger. But Matros didn't answer, indeed he didn't have time. Another voice answered, one that was cold, with anger and hatred and loneliness,
"Of course he did. Why would he want to deal with me himself?" The Doctor looked up at the door in surprise. Andy stood there, a tear slowly making its way down her face, anger in her darkened haunted eyes. Matros stiffened and let out a squawk,
"Get it out of here, girl. Don't bring that demon in here!" Andy scoffed,
"Demon? There is no demon, no devil and no spirits. It's just me, Matros. It's always just been me." She was almost spitting in rage.
"No, there is, Andy," the Doctor quickly stepped in, "You'll have heard of it, Andy. Every child has. The monster under the bed. The thing that comes to take away your soul." Andy looked at him like he had gone insane,
"That's just a story," she said, backing away in fright. The Doctor followed.
"All stories have some truth, Andy. And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but you've displayed some of the signs."
"No," she whimpered, stepping away, towards the village well. The people standing in line turned to look, seeing what entertainment the mad girl would offer up.
"The temper that changes in seconds, the eyes that change colour, even the blood that your nine year old self offered up. One drop of blood and it's inside you, Andy."
"No, no, it can't be." Andy was sobbing now, begging him to stop talking.
"There is one way to be sure." The Doctor hated that he had to do this. She stared up at him in horror, as did all those within earshot. There were some exclamations, begging the Doctor not to say it. He ignored them all.
"To name it is to call it," he said. Andy had fallen to her knees, tears slipping down her face. The people at the well all seemed to draw together, one crowd, one mob, against the evil they all feared, "And I name you…The Devouring Dark."