Foreword
This is not a "Doctor" story but rather is a horror story starring the "Angels". It started out as a fake movie poster i made for some friends of mine which I then developed into this brief story. Hope you enjoy.
4th August 2012
12 miles east of Cardiff
The rain had set in as the afternoon sun was in its death march downwards towards the horizon. The four of them had returned to the house where they had found the book written by Rastam Jonovich which had told them all about the Angels and their extraordinary abilities. Wes' Land Rover trundled to a halt in the mud outside the rickety old Victorian-era structure, its four occupants feeling drained and exhausted. They had been awake for almost thirty seven hours now running for their lives. Silently they climbed out of the Land Rover and looked upon the house as the rain started to tap on their faces helping them, just a little, to keep their eyes open.
"How do we know it's going to come back here?" asked Mark as he reached into the back of the Land Rover to pick up his bag.
"We don't," said Emma. "But this is where it started. It knows we know about its existence. It will have to silence us."
"Is there any need?" grumbled a cynical sounding Tony. "Who the hell is going to believe us anyway? I mean I wouldn't. Come on; let's get inside before we get soaked."
One by one the four of them grabbed hold of their bags from the back of Wes' Land Rover and began their slow walk into the house not knowing if the Angel was a thousand miles away or watching at this very moment. Stepping onto the porch first Wes reached out and pushed the door open. It creaked loudly announcing that someone had arrived. It seemed unchanged from yesterday as though it were itself a statue. That was an uncomfortable thought for Wes. If a statue could actually be alive then why not a house?
Not realising he had done so as he was locked in the disturbing thought he was now stood motionless just inside the door and Emma, Tony and Mark stepped passed him into the lounge. Mark dropped his bag on the dusty floor and launched himself at the old wicker chair that dominated the centre of the room sighing with relief as he done so.
"Oh my God this is comfortable," he declared as his eyes started to close. Realizing what he was doing his eyelids suddenly shot open with a start! He half expected to find himself staring down the face of that evil and hideous creature but instead found his friends slowly wandering around the room trying to find some kind of comfort. Wes stood at the window looking out at his Land Rover which was now getting soaked in the sudden downpour.
Emma had proceeded to take out Janovich's book and began glancing through it hoping that this time she might find some way of fighting the Angel that was more effective than keeping your eyes open. They had all looked through the book at some point trying to find the answer but to no avail. The book was old and heavily damaged while the writing was difficult to understand at best and at worst completely unintelligible.
Tony sat on the floor with his back against the wall. His Firefly t-shirt that he was so excited about buying the day before at the science fiction convention the previous day, before this all began, was now stained from dirt and ripped on the front. In a day and a half it had appeared to age ten years. It was a symbol representing all of them. They all looked older, even Emma the youngest of the four of them, as they held heavy eyes that ached for sleep. They knew it was going to get harder as the sun started to go down again and even more hours ticked by.
"We should check the rest of the house," suggested Tony. "Y'know; before we settle in."
"Yeah," said Wes.
"I got to get some sleep," grumbled Mark who cursed himself for allowing his eyes to shut if only for a split second. He knew it was foolish and even though it was almost involuntary he still proceeded to punish himself.
"We should stay in twos at all times," added Emma.
They all agreed. Mark peeled himself out of the wicker chair and stood on his aching feet.
"I hate to bring this up now but," he said, "what happens if that thing actually is here?"
"As long as we can see it then it's no threat to us," said Wes repeating this fact as if to remind them all. "We should be ok."
"Great, something that moves so quick you will literally miss it if you blink. That doesn't sound too hard," said Mark with a distinct air of frustration in his voice.
"Look we are all getting tired here," sighed Wes, "but we need to keep our heads."
"We need to get some sleep," interjected Tony rubbing his eyes that seemed to sting with each touch.
There was a brief silence broken by Emma. "Once we've checked the house we should come back here and get some rest."
"How can we?" asked Mark. "If we close our eyes that thing will have us and we will disappear just like that security guard at the convention."
"Not if we take it in turns," said Wes. "Two can sleep while two stand watch and keep each other awake. Then we can swap over after a few hours."
"Sounds like a plan to me," said Tony. "Alright, let's get on with it."
The house was indeed empty as it had always been, at least to the best of their knowledge. Given how fast the Angel had proven itself to be there was no real way of making sure other than to catch a glimpse of it in its solid state. After half an hour of checking every room and opening every closed closet they felt confident enough to relax for the time being.
Back in the lounge it was decided Mark and Wes would sleep first. Mark clambered back onto the wicker chair and threw his legs over the arm rest while he laid his head on the back. He draped his jacket over him like a blanket. Ironically, although he had wished and prayed for the chance to get some sleep now that he was allowed to he found he had to dare himself to close his eyes afraid that if he did they would never open again and he would disappear into oblivion like all the others the Angel had claimed. Who knew where they went. The book didn't seem to offer any clues or at least they hadn't found any in it yet.
Wes collapsed a few empty cardboard boxes scattered around the room left by the previous occupants in order to create a makeshift mattress for him on the floor. It was surprisingly soft, all things considered, and he rested his head on his bag which acted as a pillow. He whispered a silent prayer for himself and his friends for like Mark he wondered if he would ever open his eyes again once they closed. Both Mark and Wes quietly gave in to the inevitable and slipped off to sleep. That just left Tony and Emma to stay awake for three hours until it was their turn to sleep.
"You ok?" he asked her seeing that she was unsettled.
"Yeah, you?" she replied almost snappy.
"All things considered. One of us should watch the door. The other should watch the window. That way we know it won't be able to enter. What do you think?"
"Yeah," she said. "I'll take the window."
"Guess that leaves me with the door."
The two of them settled in as best they could. After a while they sat with their backs up against the wall furthest from the large bay window. Emma sat with her back up against it staring at the dirty pains of glass. Tony sat with his back to her leaning with his right side against the wall. The first hour dragged terribly. The sun was now almost gone although it couldn't be seen through the thick rainclouds that blanketed the sky.
After a while Emma suggested a wholly unoriginal way they might keep themselves awake.
"I spy with my little eye something beginning with D."
Tony huffed out of boredom as he mumbled, "Door?"
"No."
"I give up."
"You're not even trying," she protested. "Come on. I'll give you a hint. We are all covered in it."
"Dust," he said throwing his arms up as if it were obvious. "Ok my turn. I spy with my little eye something beginning with M."
"Uh…Mark?"
"Nope, I'll return the favour and give you a hint. It has something to do with your last I-spy."
"Dust?"
"Yep."
"And it begins with M?" she asked confused.
"It does indeed," he replied with in a way that hinted the answer, something she quickly picked up on.
"More dust," she said matter-of-factly with a slight grin.
"Spot on," said Tony enjoying a brief moment of amusement.
That brought the game to an end. Emma picked up the book once more and began to flick through its pages hoping perhaps that some divine intervention would point her to the page that would tell her how to kill one of these things for good.
"Not exactly 50 Shades of Grey," she said amusingly.
"Oh God!" scoffed Tony. "Don't tell me you read that crap?"
"I take it you're not a fan?"
"No!" he declared.
"Have you actually read it?"
"I've read enough of it to know it's crap," he said shifting to make him a little more comfortable sitting on the bare wooden floor. "Books and movies like that are a lie."
"Says the guy who is wearing a Firefly t-shirt," she retorted gleefully thinking she had caught him out.
"That's different," he explained.
"How?" she scoffed.
"Science fiction, while its basis is set in an imaginary future, still reflects real life at its core with the relationships of the characters. That's what good sci-fi is all about; people in extraordinary circumstances. I would think you of all people would appreciate that being an actress and all. That book however is a lie because it convinces people that this could actually happen to them, that they will be swept off their feet by some mysterious stranger who is smart and sophisticated and not like an ordinary bloke in anyway."
"What's wrong with dreaming?" she asked.
"Nothing at all as long as there is a line between reality and fiction. The people who know that line know how to strike the right balance to help them achieve what they want. The ones who get bogged down in trashy fantasy like that never move on."
"I think I feel sorry for you," she said catching him off guard.
"Oh?"
"You talk about people lost in the lies of fiction. I think you're the type of person who is lost in reality. You're a cynic of the highest order."
"Really," he replied feeling a little wounded by her remark. "Well as one who is stuck in reality I must therefore succumb to the limitations of reality. I have to pee."
"Oh nice," she said cocking her nose up.
"Maybe I could do it in the corner? I could still keep an eye on the door that way."
"If you really have to," she said cringing at the idea.
"No better yet," said Tony. "I can stand outside the door and do it in the hallway."
"I think that would be better for everyone. Just keep your back to the wall."
Tony clambered onto his feet and walked cautiously towards the door.
"I keep expecting that thing to jump out at me any minute," he said as he reached the door.
"If it's any comfort," she said to him, "In the book it says that when one of these things attacks it all happens so fast that you don't even know it. You're just gone."
"That's supposed to be comforting?" he said shaking his head. He soon disappeared behind the door.
He stood in the hallway and felt very vulnerable. The hallway stretched from the front door to the kitchen where he knew there was another door leading out to the garden. There was no way he could keep an eye on both sides of the corridor at the same time. Then ahead of him he saw the staircase had a gap underneath it. It was a tight fit but he thought he could squeeze into it and with his back to the wall he could carry out his bodily function and keep an eye on the door to the lounge at the same time. With his head darting from left to right he made the quick jump to the space under the stairs and proceeded to do what he had to do.
He didn't know that he had taken too long and that his eyes weren't quick enough to make it across the hallway. Their enemy was nearby. Hiding. Waiting.
Emma continued to look through the book holding it up enough so she could see both it and the window at the same time but she could still not see the door fully, taking solace in the fact she knew Tony was covering it from the outside.
Like her body, her mind was drained of its energy. It struggled to process the information that was on the page made worse by the poor quality of the handwriting. Nevertheless she pressed on with reading what she could.
…At one point it was believed that the Angels had the perfect disguise in their ability to mimic statues when sighted. However their presence was always known by their actions for which there was no disguise. Even then however they continued to live in a semi-secret state. Their presence was buried deep into the psyche of all sentient creatures with only the faintest strands breaking through to the conscious mind that they existed at all. To that end children invented games whereby they pretend to be statues when seen by another child. This act served to teach them subconsciously about these foul beings so that they have an understanding of them and could therefore affect a defence…
She didn't read the next few lines. She couldn't. Unwillingly she had given in to the desire to sleep. The creature, knowing it could attack, swooped in on her and struck its victim.