Chapter Three

Despite her mother and father's reprimands for staying away from home for so long, Jane retired to bed early that evening with mixed feelings that had nothing to do with her scolding. She was elated with the success of finding a new idea, one whose story and characters inspired her, but she was also confused and dismayed by her encounters with the strangers on her way home. She knew from their voices that the three of them had been the people in the woods, and therefore they had a direct relation with her story. That alone was enough to convince her that she did not want to work on Emily anymore (for this evening at least); but as soon as she sat down to work on Susan, she found that she had no inspiration for that manuscript either. It was irritating beyond belief – a writer who cannot write.

Jane was left to sit curled on her bed, contemplating her encounters that evening. The first had been the most unpleasant. The man and the woman were the ones she had deemed to be a couple by the sound of their voices alone; she had seen them kissing from a distance, so they were a certifiable couple. Furthermore, she had reasoned that the woman (who was "Emily" in her mind, as she looked far too much like the character she had envisioned) would be a red-head. Jane was thoroughly shocked to find herself to be so correct. Worser still, she had overheard them addressing each other as Mr and Mrs Darcy, a name she had fallen in love with and chosen for the couple presented within her earlier manuscript, First Impressions. She had a terribly strange feeling in her gut; the whole encounter had been strange.

The second had been simply odd. The man (also from the woods, like the other two) was a conundrum. He spoke as if he knew everything; certainly, he had known her name. Yet, his speech was addled by riddles, as if inviting her to investigate, even though he knew full well she would never solve them. He looked terribly young, but awfully old, and the mixture was unsettling.

Then there was the sordid issue of whatever he was wearing… Jane had never seen attire like that.

Perhaps he came from a travelling troupe of gypsies.

Jane sighed and pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. Perhaps she should just go to bed… She looked longingly at her desk, with the crumpled papers and the splattered ink. She felt the familiar urge to pick up her pen and write, but she knew as soon as she looked at a blank page, her vocabulary would suddenly disappear and refuse to return until the next day.

She shivered and raised a hand to brush a loose lock of hair out of her eyes.

Her candles went out.

Jane froze. She had been so preoccupied by her thoughts that she had forgotten that the howling from the past week was louder still tonight. She knew nothing had blown out the candle – so how had it gone out? She tried to move her feet to the floor, tried to rise so she could investigate, but she found that she couldn't move. She was like stone, trapped.

There was something in her room with her. She couldn't see it, but she could sense it. It was there, in the corner of her eye—

"GET OUT YOU NASTY… THING!"

The spell was broken. Her bedroom door flew open with such force it banged against the wall, and Jane was blinded by light. She threw her hands in front of her eyes to shield them from the stabbing whiteness that filled her bedroom. As she did, she heard a wordless, ear-splitting shriek. Jane clapped her hands to her ears and, through blinking, watering eyes, saw two people rush into her room.

They were the couple from earlier – the man and the red-haired woman. The man was carrying a strange metal tube from which the bright light was emitted; the woman was responsible for the shriek. She was standing there, in Jane's doorway, screaming and screaming, one long, endless sound.

Jane toppled from her bed, furious and uncertain of what to do. Feeling the need to act, she did the first thing that came to mind – she thundered across her room and smacked the man across the face for daring to have the impropriety to enter her private room.

"Agh!" He dropped the metal contraption with surprise; with it on the floor, everything seemed a little less bright. "What was that for?"

"Get out!" Jane shouted, grabbing her abandoned pen from her desk and raising it like a sword. "I will not bear this… this offensiveness!"

The red-haired woman ceased her screaming. "Oi, Austen!" she called. For the first time, Jane noted a distinct Scottish inflection to her words. "No one lays a hand on my boy except me, go it?" She threw a careless arm around the man's shoulders and fixed Jane with the most aggressive stare she had ever witnessed.

"And I will not stand for your crassness, madam," Jane spat back.

The woman opened her mouth to retort, but she fell silent when she noticed the man's expression. He was staring over her shoulder with concern.

"Uh, Amy—"

"What, Rory?"

"Can you start screaming again? I think it's still here."

"What? Hasn't it – oh, God!"

Jane yelped as she was suddenly seized from behind by invisible hands. She doubled over as pain shot through her body. The wretched girl began screaming again, and Jane dropped to the floor, released. She looked up just in time to see her window shatter outwards as some invisible force blew through it.

"Come on, there's no time to waste!" the man said, grabbing Jane by an arm and pulling her to her feet.

"I can stand on my own!" she snapped, wrenching her arm away from his grasp.

"Stop it!" Amy said. "It'll be back soon. We have to get you out of here and find the Doctor; he knows what to do."

"I am not going anywhere!" Jane shouted, drawing her shawl tightly around her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushing red; she was standing in her nightclothes in front of two strangers, one of whom was a man who had no business being where he was.

"Yes, you are!" Amy yelled. She threw her hands into the air. "Who knew that Jane—"

"—Amy!" the man warned.

She threw her hands up and continued. "—that you could be so stubborn? I thought you were supposed to be one of the greatest minds in history!"

Jane's hands clenched into fists. That was the second time she'd heard something like that today. "I beg your pardon?"

"My pardon doesn't want to be begged," Amy said abruptly. "So stop wasting time, if you want to live!"

"If I want to live?"

Amy looked entirely irritated. "Why is it that people from the past never listen to me? Where's the Doctor when you need him?"

There was a crash and a bang from the yard. Amy rushed to the broken window and stuck her head out; Jane followed, peering over her shoulder.

The man with the strange cravat was standing in the middle of the front garden, swinging around what appeared to be a green light on a metal rod while he crushed Jane's mother's lovingly tended flowerbeds.

"I must be going mad," Jane said.

"That's what they all say," the man, Rory, said sympathetically. "Sometimes I still think I'm mad."

Jane pressed a hand to her forehead. "I must have the most embarrassing of imaginations."

"Yeah, well, you better get used to it," Amy said. "Your sensibilities are going to be gone if you ever survive this. Maybe your sense, too."

Jane stared at her, uncertain of how to react. This Amy was clearly a madwoman, imaginary or not.

"Oh, come on!" Amy said, irritated. "Sense and Sensibility? It was a joke, okay? Don't you lot get jokes?"

"Amy!" Rory said, but to no avail. Neither Amy nor Jane noticed him.

"I do not know what you mean—"

"Oh, God, this era is depressing! What year is it?"

"1797."

"Right," Amy said. "I officially hate 1797."

"Amy!" Rory warned.

"Right," Amy said. She grabbed Jane's wrist and pulled her forcefully towards the door. "Come on, Austen, we've got a ways to go and crossfire to avoid!"

Jane tried to throw her off, but caught sight of something so fabulously odd, all attempts to be rid of Amy ceased. The woman's hands, freckled and tanned, as if she had just spent long hours outside for the past several months, were quite odd. Her fingernails were incredibly long and painted a vivid scarlet.

When one of those fingernails dug into her wrist, Jane's attention snapped back to the present moment.

"Let go of me!"

Jane attempted to throw her off, but Amy's grasp was solid. Without much pomp or circumstance, Amy dragged Jane through the door and down the hall, Rory following, still wielding the metal-and-light contraption. Despite the commotions and the lights, Jane and the intruders were the only ones awake in the entire house. How her family could sleep through this devastating riot, Jane couldn't fathom, but she could barely concentrate on that fact when it was so clear that she was being abducted by what appeared to be figments of her imagination.

She was ushered out into the front garden, whereupon they encountered the strange man with the odd cravat – whom she supposed was this Doctor the other two mentioned – flailing his arms about and ducking and diving as though he were being attacked.

They could not see an enemy.

"Doctor!"

"DOCTOR!"

"I'm a bit busy at the moment!" he shouted. "Holding off invisible monsters is not a relatively easy task!"

"We've got her, Doctor!"

"Oh!" He spun around and looked almost surprised to see Jane standing there, clutching her shawl and shivering. He gave a short, awkward bow and was brutally knocked flat on his back by his invisible opponent.

Jane screamed in surprise and horror, clasping a hand to her mouth.

"Oh, don't be useless!" Amy snapped. "Rory—"

"I'm on it!"

He tossed her the metal contraption just as she sprinted off in the opposite direction. She caught it with her fingertips and sent him a puzzled look.

"What?"

"No!"

"Oh!"

Amy spun around and shone the bright light directly at the Doctor, opened her mouth and began to scream again.

From the doorstep, Jane had a grand view of the entire action. She saw the Doctor, illuminated by the bright light, fighting to throw off his invisible enemy. She saw Amy standing there, screaming like a helpless child (though Jane did sense there was something else going on here; Amy did not seem like the helpless type and she screamed with purpose, if that was possible). She saw Rory sprinting away into the dark and returning with a large bucket that slopped liquid everywhere –

— and Jane saw him dump it all over the Doctor.

Paint. Bright red paint.

Except most of it didn't end up on the Doctor. Instead, it slathered all over his attacker, who was now visible. Jane started, pressing a hand desperately to her mouth to hold back the gasp of horror. The monster, having realised it was now visible, leapt away. For a moment, it seemed to fix Jane with a look that she could not see, and then it bounded away into the night.

Amy stopped screaming. "Is it gone?" she asked hoarsely, lowering the metal contraption.

"For now," the Doctor said, rising to his feet.

"So?" Rory asked, putting down the paint bucket. He clapped the Doctor on the shoulder. "What do we do now?"

The three strangers looked to Jane, who was suddenly aware that she had nothing on her feet.

"I bid you all good night," she said, "and thank you for this horrifying nightmare." She curtseyed and turned to go back into her house.

"No, wait!" Amy rushed after her and caught her by the arm. "Please, stay here," she said. "If you go back in, that could make things worse. There could be another in there."

"Another what, exactly?" Jane asked.

It was raining heavily. No one seemed to have noticed, or cared, that they were all drenched. The wind howled, mixed with the ungodly howls of the creatures Jane had been hearing all week.

"Jane," the Doctor said, "I'm sorry. These things aren't always meant to happen, but sometimes they do. You've become a target by a group of people—"

"People?" Jane raised an eyebrow. "People! People do not howl like the wind during a storm! People do not fly out of broken windows! People are not invisible! People!" She laughed hoarsely; she couldn't control it. She didn't want to laugh, but somehow it was there.

"Okay, okay…" The Doctor pressed his hands together. "They're not people in the same way that you know people. But they are living, breathing – er –"

"Aliens?" Amy supplied helpfully.

"No! No." The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut. "'Alien' doesn't mean that in this time period, Amy. It means 'foreign'—"

"Oh, so they're foreigners now?" Jane said, crossing her arms.

"Yes!" The Doctor's eyes lit up. "Yes! They are foreigners, they're like foreigners – but they're not from Earth—"

"They're not from the earth?" Jane looked at him blankly. "Sir, I am becoming drenched in this downpour. If I do not go inside soon, I will become severely ill with a fever—"

"There are people – beings – from the stars, Jane," the Doctor said.

She laughed. "Oh, from the stars! Truly?"

"Listen to me," he pleaded. "There are people from the stars who want to capture you and take your voice."

"My voice?"

"Your words. They will kill you for your words. You're a writer Jane; one of the most brilliant writers who ever lived, and they want to take that away from you."

Jane pressed her palm into her forehead. "Oh, dear Lord…"

"You have to believe me!" He was suddenly there at her side, speaking very quietly to her, so that only she could hear. "You have great things ahead of you, Jane. This world needs you more than you can ever know. This was never supposed to happen to you, and I'm sorry, but now I'm here to fix it so you can be safe."

Jane remained silent for long time. She shrugged off the Doctor, moving away from him. She stood, soaking up the chilling rain, aware of every shiver that ran across her skin. "My imagination is incensed," she said. "The curse of being a writer…" She paused and looked blankly at her trio of trespassers. "Answer me this: have I gone insane? Are you the manifestations of madness?" She fell silent and added, very quietly, "Can I ask the symptoms if they are giving me the disease?"

Silence.

Jane refused to look at Amy and Rory; she gazed straight at the Doctor. She knew that he had the answers, the others were merely distractions. She wanted to hear him speak; she needed to hear him speak. Yet at the same time, she wanted him to disappear and take this madness with him.

"I can't change what you believe, Jane," the Doctor said finally. "But you've seen too much. I wanted to do it another way, but I realised the danger too late. They must have been here for a week—"

"A week is when the unnatural howling began, yes," Jane said.

The Doctor nodded. "Yes. They've had time to infiltrate your house, watch your every move. I didn't want to draw you into this, believe me, but now we have no choice."

Jane turned and gazed at her front door. A week ago, she had tottered down the stairs and contemplated the adventure on which she could embark should she pass its threshold in nothing but her nightdress and shawl, with nothing on her feet. Tonight, she had run out past that threshold in nothing but her nightdress and shawl, with nothing on her feet, and had encountered more than twice enough adventure for a lifetime here in her own front yard.

Adventure was something meant only for the pen – if you were a nice, rich, respectable girl.

Jane paused, breathing in the rain and the cool August night's air.

"What would you have me do?" she asked.

The Doctor smiled. He glanced at Rory and Amy, who both looked relieved.

"We need a safe place far away from them where I – we – can figure out a plan," the Doctor said rapidly. "That safe place is most likely –"

"One of the larger villages?" Jane suggested.

"—the TARDIS," the Doctor finished. "Larger villages won't do you any good, Jane, they will trace you there."

He had begun walking away, Amy and Rory following. Jane hurried after him and caught him by the arm.

"Wait," she said. "Where is Tardis? If I leave—"

"The TARDIS, not Tardis," the Doctor corrected.

"—if I leave," Jane said, speaking more loudly, "what about my family? What could these… these things do to them?"

"Nothing," the Doctor said. "Your family isn't of interest; you're the one they want. They don't hurt anything except those who get in their way."

Jane swallowed hard. "But what about my things?"

"You can borrow stuff from us," Amy said.

"There's no time to go back and pack," Rory added. "They're probably sending more back here right n—"

Something screeched through the air. They all looked up and, through the rain, saw the outline of something partially red, partially invisible floating several meters up in the sky.

"Oh sweet Heavens!" Jane murmured, breathless.

"I'd suggest running," the Doctor said. "Running, right now, would be a very good option—"

The thing swooped.

They ran.

Jane could feel a prickle of fear on the back of her neck. She was not a runner; she rarely had the occasion to run long distances, not since she was a child. The others were much faster than her, and they had the additional help of shoes. She was barefoot and felt every twig and every stone beneath her feet. More than once she tumbled and fell to the ground; but the Doctor was there to help her up again and insist that she kept running.

All the while, they had the large beast hunting them down from the sky like animals.

Once they reached the lane, they jumped the stone wall and rushed into the woods. Jane immediately felt safer, plunging through the woods, though her feet and lower legs would not thank her come morning. With the beast was attacking from the sky, surely that meant that the trees would deter its assault—

"Duck!"

She dropped to the ground and rolled as something large and heavy passed over her. For the first time, Jane remarked that it had an awful stench. She raised her head and saw a red blot retreating into the leafy canopy above. Exhausted but pushed forward by some energy reserve her body had only recently discovered, Jane rose to her feet and continued to run.

They splashed through a small stream and up the opposite bank. At the top of the hill was a small clearing. Jane did not know how long they would have to run, nor how far, or if they could even escape this demon intent on hunting her down. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she clambered up the hill after her new companions. As she drew to the top, she could see the dark outline of something large and rectangular, something that certainly did not belong in a forest clearing.

Amy was the first one to reach it. She fumbled with something within her clothing and suddenly there was a spectacular sliver of warm light shining in the middle of the forest. Rory reached her and they disappeared into the light. The Doctor paused, helping Jane up the hill, and pushed her unhesitatingly through the door. He followed moments later and shut it.

The beast slammed into the closed door moments later.

Jane gaped.

"Oh, my good Lord!"