Chapter Three

"Sacrifice..."

"Yeah," he nodded grimly, "either that, or flat-out murder – bad news either way. We should get out of here, Martha, we need to get out now –"

He trailed to a halt as his roving eyes came to rest on a small figure pressed close to one of the columns to his left, watching them closely. When he realised he'd been spotted, the little man squeaked with fear and scurried back into the shadows, the Doctor hot on his heels with Martha not far behind.

"Was he wearing a loin cloth?" she asked, not believing her own eyes.

"A priest," the Doctor confirmed hastily as he rounded the column, scanning the gloom for any sign of the man. "Simple life, but very fast; where did he go? Hello?" he called out into the shadowy vastness, trotting slowly to a halt, having lost his target. Scratching his head, he turned back to his companion. "Hmm, that was odd. Why on earth was he just standing there when he obviously knows what's taken place here – they barely leave the temple," he went on to answer her unasked question, "so unless he was very, very deaf... no, he knows all too well what's going on, but something's gotten to him, made him too scared to confront strangers like us – oh, hello," he murmured, his curious gaze prompting Martha to turn around and follow his line-of-sight, where she spied another of the mysterious priests, this one better dressed than the last. "You chaps just seem to be creeping out of the woodwork, don't you...?" she heard him murmur with bemusement.

"Who are you?" demanded the new man, eyeing them like one would eye a cockroach infestation. "What are you doing in the temple of the gods?"

"Gods?" repeated the Doctor, perplexed. "You mean, more than one? Not just the usual one-per-temple?"

"It used to be a temple of Ra," the man conceded with a pompous sneer, "but that was before the arrival of the gods made flesh, who deemed to make this temple their focal point with the mortal world. You tarnish its sanctity with your presence, and you have yet to answer my question – who are you?"

"Oh, right, so sorry about that...?"

"You may address me as the Hem netjer."

"High Priest," the Doctor whistled impressively, "why, that would make you Top Dog here on 'the mortal world' now wouldn't it? Bet you must be feeling very pleased with yourself...but, I digress! I'm the Doctor, and this is Martha Jones, my companion," he added, emphasizing the last word to bypass any repeats of earlier.

The High Priest didn't seem to share the impressed sentiment. "You're no doctor of these lands," he spat, "your attire is too outlandish – it betrays you as a foreigner, and therefore a heathen to all you see around you. Why are you here, heathen? Have you come to gloat, to try and impress upon me your own ideals and beliefs, convert me and my people to your own, outlandish, heretic gods and monsters? The Egyptian people are strong, their belief unwavering – you will find no victory here; their gods are with them."

"Ah, but are they though...?"

"You question my gods?!" the Hem netjer was outraged at the indication, his eyes rolling up into his skull. "You doubt my words?!"

"Oh, no, no, no, no – perish the thought! Nah, I was just pondering out loud, sorry about that... just like I was wondering where the breeze has gone. Martha," he called, causing her to turn to him, "run."

"What?" she couldn't believe her ears – what was going on here? She'd totally lost the plot.

"Run!" he bellowed as he watched the torches dim, gradually replaced with an unnatural emerald glow. Before she could move, he grabbed her by the arm, almost yanking it out of her socket as he sped past her, barging the High Priest aside as he made his way back towards the exit. The High Priest barely budged, as if he were embedded into the stone floors, only his head turning to follow their flight with unholy white fire in his eyes.

They rounded the column they had previously seen the first priest creeping around, and the large wooden door quickly came into sight through the gloom. It was shut and decidedly barred with a huge plank of wood the two of them had no chance of removing.

"Arrrgh, no!" cried the Doctor in exasperation at the sight, "I should've known he was a lure – we should've left, but nooo, I had to go chasing shadows! Stupid man!"

"What are we going to do?" asked Martha, panicking, "We're trapped and, and – and that back there, that's not normal!"

"My guess is he's summoning his so-called 'gods'," murmured the Doctor hurriedly as he fumbled away within the recesses of the his suit jacket. "Although I still don't know what they really or nor do I particularly want to right now. Now, where did I place the darn thing? I can never just find it first time around.... ah-hah!" he whipped out his hand, now brandishing his sonic screwdriver.

Martha just stared at it, looked to the very wooden door, and back to the screwdriver, confounded. "Er, Doctor? It's wood. No lock, no hidden mechanisms, nothing. Just wood. So, unless it suddenly has a setting to turn anything to sawdust we're still trapped in here with him," she paused as a howling picked-up, thundering its way towards them, "and that."

"The plank barring the door," the Doctor pointed his alien device at the bars fastening the aforementioned plank in place, "is held by these iron slats which, in turn, are nailed in. The nails are crude, yeah, but what can you expect? But a nail's a nail, which means that this little beauty can pull 'em out! Just need to find the right setting, magnetize, annnd...ha, ha, ha!" he crowed as the first nail popped out in a small explosion of sawdust and rust. "Molto Bene! Come on!"

"That's great, Doctor, but we're not out of the woods yet," Martha pushed him gently as shadows began to grow out from the emerald gloom.

"Of course, don't you worry Martha, got it sorted," he swung the screwdriver to the next nail, the pitch of its whine increasing as he intensified the output. This quickly resulted in the next nail shooting out of its place, colliding with the gadget and sending it flying from the Doctor's hands. "Blast!" he roared as he watched it skitter across the stone floor, resting halfway between the two of them, and the shadows. He darted after it, scooping it up in his hands as his eyes caught sight of the shadows as they took more recognisable, terrible forms; those of dogs and birds with human bodies.

"Hurry, Doctor!"

"Oh, you don't have to tell me twice..." hurrying back to the door, the Doctor quickly gave the last remaining nails a zap and, once the iron slats were unsecured and the plank fell free, bouncing on the stones once with a booming thud, he hopped over and planted his feet against it, his back to the door as he pushed to make a gap with which to open the door. The plank slid slowly and heavily over the stones, and beads of sweat broke on his brow in no time, but he didn't give up, his eyes never once leaving the shadows as they crept ever closer. There was a clattering now, of claws on rock, and its paced intensified as an unseen snout snorted at the air, saliva-filled maws snapping hungrily as it picked-up their scent. Finally, after what seemed like a painful eternity, the plank had been moved far enough away from the door and the Doctor turned on his heel and gripped the door in both hands. "Help me, Martha!"

Together, they pulled at the door, not waiting until it was more than a manageable crack before they slipped out, stumbling blindly out backwards in the sudden blaze of sunlight. Blinking, they turned cautiously...

Only to be met with a wall of golden spearheads.

A/N: Again, can't apologize enough for the long absence, but personal problems couldn't be avoided...you know how it is.

Suffice to say - I haven't given-up on this story! I WILL be completed, if not soon, then...erm, soonish!

Hope you enjoyed it so far! Any feedback is greatly appreciated.