II.
The Doctor had been left to his own devices in the kitchen. He'd found an abandoned saucepan on the cooker, filled with some kind of aged black that mould that even he didn't feel like licking. The worktops were scratched and caked in dust, the corners of the room were covered in yet more mould and cobwebs and the already ajar door of the fridge reveal a rather impressive rat's nest, with several rats and many rat babies lying dead inside.
The window of the kitchen was also wide open, flooding the windowsill and clogged kitchen sink beneath it with the relentless rain. He reached forward to grab the metal handle, yanking it closed with a loud squeal of rusted metal hinges and pulling the handle down to secure it. He rubbed at the dirt on the window with his palm and peered out at the miserable October night, wondering where the hell the Pixians had left the TARDIS.
He sighed, and was about to turn away, when suddenly he caught sight of what seemed to be a black silhouette of a person standing across the field... He couldn't make it out. He blinked slightly to focus, but whatever he had caught sight of seemed to have gone. Shrugging, he turned back... And came face-to-face with a black figure standing in the doorway, striding towards him..
He yelped and fumbled for his torch, quickly panning it to the doorway to reveal it was in fact Rose, staring at him, slightly bemused.
"You okay?" she wondered, laughing.
"You shocked me," the Doctor muttered, breathing again before he quickly changed the subject. "How are the bedrooms?"
"Dusty," Rose replied immediately. "But there's a double room and two singles."
"Good," the Doctor replied, nodding slowly.
Don then appeared behind Rose, his hair slightly more presentable than it had been earlier. "Anything to eat?"
The Doctor stared at him, then soundlessly gestured at their surroundings. "What exactly were you expecting?"
Don shrugged. "Dunno, but I could really go for cheese on toast, right now."
The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Well, there's some dead rat, and a saucepan full of mould."
"Or as the French call it, lunch," Don said quickly, grinning before his face dropped again. "Seriously, though. Can't we order a pizza, or something?"
"Can't, I tried," Rose admitted, holding up her phone. "I can't get any signal."
"I thought that had universal roaming?" Don wondered. "Gets signal anywhere?"
"Welcome to south-west England," the Doctor replied simply, moving passed them into the adjoining living room. Rose and Don followed him, where he was already getting a fire going in the fireplace out of bits of broken wall and his sonic. Pretty soon the fire sparked into being and they gathered around it like moths to a flame, trying to warm up and dry out from the rain.
"This place ain't so bad," Don supposed after a moment, looking around. "Bit of a dusting, bit of refurbishment, I reckon some Escape To The Country person would buy it."
"And get rid of the creepy neighbour," Rose added, laughing.
"Yeah, he's probably dragging the price down a bit," Don replied, grinning.
From the corner an old Grandfather clock which miraculously still seemed to work began to chime. The group looked up to find it was midnight.
"It's officially Halloween," the Doctor announced.
"Oh, let's tell scary stories!" Don said quickly, getting into his knees and grinning. "C'mon, it'll be fun! I've got one!"
The Doctor and Rose waited in anticipation as Don lit his face up with his torch, widening his eyes and trying to look as scary as possible.
"There was once a couple in Scotland who had just moved into an old castle. It wasn't long before they decided to empty out the wine cellar, and they found a large barrel of brandy. They tried moving it and even got a few friends to help, but they couldn't budge it. In the end, they decided to have a house-warming party and give glasses of brandy out to empty the barrel and make it easier to move. A few days after the party, they went into the cellar and tried to move the barrel again. It still wouldn't move. The husband got his saw in order to cut it into smaller pieces, and they cut off the top of the barrel..." He paused, and began to wave his hand mysteriously. "Inside was a dead body and they had drank the brandy that had preserved it!"
He was met with silence.
"What?" Don asked, brow furrowed.
"That was awful," the Doctor answered, glancing at Rose who sniggered a little.
"You tell one then," Don harrumphed, folding his arms and staring expectantly at the Doctor.
"Okay," the Doctor began, thinking for a moment. "Right, got one..." He lit up his face with the torch, and instantly he was in character, his face completely impassive, staring at them both with wide, staring eyes. "The story of Elizabeth is one that's been passed down through generations in south-west England, telling the very horrifying tale of a young blonde woman named Elizabeth, the cook of Plymtree Manor.
"Orphaned as a young girl, Elizabeth was a peasant of the lowest kind with no education, relatives or hope for the future, and made a living as a call girl for the local brothel. She served there for ten years, until finally on her 24th birthday she was visiting the market as a daily routine and found an old, well-dressed man struggling to carry his purchases. Feeling sympathetic, she helped the old man to take his goods back to where he lived as a butler at Plymtree Manor. She quickly discovered they were short of many staff, and the butler put in a good word for her with the Lord of the manor. In a sudden reversal of fortune she was readily taken on as the cook, given her own bed and all the food she could ever want.
"But the Lord of the manor recognised her very quickly as he had often visited the brothel, and he took advantage of her almost every night. Elizabeth tried to endure this, but soon the Lady of the manor began verbally abusing her too, even having her beaten when she did even the tiniest thing wrong. Elizabeth continued to endure this for one long, painful year, until one night she decided she'd had enough. At midnight she sneaked out of her room with a carving knife in hand and went to the outbuilding where the Lord kept his hunting dogs, stole one, killed it, chopped it up and put it in a stew. She served the stew to the Lord and Lady that night, taking obscene pleasure in the joy of watching the Lord scoff his precious hunting dog down and at the same time wondering where one of them had gone.
"She kept stealing the hunting dogs and serving them to the Lord and Lady, who were wondering more and more where the hunting dogs were going. But soon Elizabeth grew bored of this, and in the middle of the night she took her trusty carving knife, sneaked to the stables and killed his precious horse. The Lord grieved that night for the loss of his favourite horse... But little did he know he was eating it at that very moment. Elizabeth laughed, but still she wanted more, more revenge.
"So the next day when the Lord was out with his associates to return for a feast later that evening, the Lady came down to taunt Elizabeth. Elizabeth grabbed her carving knife and plunged it straight through the Lady's heart, killing her instantly. She took the body, drained the Lady's blood and prepared the flesh and organs for the feast that night. She took the blood and sneaked down to the wine cellar, and mixed each and every wine with the blood of the Lady, and some poison to finish the job.
"That night the feast was served of the Lord's dead wife, and a few bottles of the blood-tainted wine. The Lord and his associates ate and drank happily until they were so drunk they fell asleep, and the poison began to take effect. The next morning Elizabeth went to the dining room and taunted the dead men, telling them all she had done for her revenge – but little did she know, the butler had heard every word. He simply took a knife, sneaked up behind her and plunged it repeatedly into her back until she was well and truly dead.
"The butler left the manor quickly before the guards arrived to find the Lord and his associates dead. But the guilt of stabbing her in the back somehow plagued the Butler's subconscious and he took Elizabeth's dead body with him in a bag. He tried burning her body, but she didn't seem to burn. He tried weighing her down and throwing her in the river, but she always came to the surface back to him. He tried leaving her somewhere in a wood, but he couldn't bring himself to walk away. Soon he realised that the pure guilt of killing Elizabeth would not allow him to leave her, so upon arriving in a small country village, he bought an old patch of land with two houses on with the last of his pennies. He took Elizabeth's body to the second house and threw her body into the cellar, chaining up the door, locking up all the doors and windows to make sure no one could ever accidentally find her. He himself took residence in the second house next to it, and stayed there until his dying day.
"Many weren't aware of the history of Elizabeth's house, and have moved in since. But each and every time someone did, a few weeks later they have completely disappeared without a trace. No one can say for sure what happened to them, but the only striking similarity between the disappearances was that each time a family disappeared, the only things left at the house were a ready cooked stew on the stove, a fully set dinner table and on the side two glasses of the reddest wine you have ever seen."
He finished, and Rose and Don just stared, wide-eyed. Suddenly a gust of wind crashed up against the side of the house and both Don and Rose screamed high-pitched screams and grabbed onto the Doctor, utterly terrified.
The Doctor looked between them, sighing. "Bedtime, anyone?"
Neither of them made a sound.
"Okay," the Doctor breathed, pushing them off of him and getting to his feet. "I'm going to show you two children that there's nothing to be scared of. Come on."
He led them across the room and out into the hallway, straight to the end of it where sat the cellar door. He knelt down next to it and whipped out the sonic.
Don and Rose froze instantly, eyes wide. "He's opening it," Don breathed, looking at Rose. "He's opening the door the creepy old man told us not to open!"
The Doctor ignored Don, buzzed the chain and in one swift movement pulled it open. Don and Rose clung onto each other instantly, staring...
"Hello?" the Doctor yelled into the black depths of the cellar, shining a torch down. "Hello? Terrifying monster? Ghost? Dead body? Creepy things? Hello? Are you there? Hellooo!"
Nothing happened.
"Oh, I think he's gone out," the Doctor joked, looking at them both and grinning.
They both relaxed, letting go of each other.
The Doctor rolled his eyes and closed the cellar door, straightening up and pocketing the sonic. "Bed." He led them to the bedrooms. "Three bedrooms, one each. I call shotgun on the double."
Rose drew back, staring at him. "You gotta be kiddin', I'm not sleepin' alone!"
"Neither am I," Don said quickly, but then realised himself and let go of the Doctor, trying to regain some manly dignity. "I mean... for Rose and you. I'm fine on my own, obviously."
"Well, how about me and Rose take the double and you go in the single room?" the Doctor suggested.
Don's eyes widened and he grabbed onto the Doctor again. "Please don't leave me alone!" he squeaked at 100 miles per hour.
"Okay, okay," the Doctor said, hands in the air. "We'll all sleep in the double. All right?"
He got two nods back at him.
"Okay," he breathed, and dragged two very frightened companions into the double bed room, leaving the cellar door unlocked...
Rose was laid in the middle of the bed between the Doctor and Don, clinging onto their hands tightly in a death grip. The Doctor had fallen asleep ten minutes after they'd gone to bed, but she and Don had been awake together for around an hour, listening to the wind howling and the rain still pouring, crashing against the sides of the old, rotting house. They kept hearing noises, creaks and groans, but tried to dismiss any further thoughts. It was the house. It was a creaking gate outside. It wasn't a ghost. Ghosts weren't real.
Then Don's gentle snores started up, and Rose found herself completely alone. A gate creaked and banged outside, and she jumped a little. This was stupid. Ghosts, weren't, real. If the Doctor had taught her anything, it was that there was a logical, scientific explanation for everything, and what she couldn't instantly reason her conditioned human brain automatically classified into something she could identify with for some sense of control – the supernatural. Ghosts weren't real.
There was a loud thud from above her head.
She turned over to the Doctor, holding his hand tightly as she buried herself under the duvet and tried desperately to block out the noises.
Then suddenly she heard a thunk... then another thunk... then another... Footsteps. Footsteps were coming towards the room, slowly, deliberately...
She peeked out from behind the duvet, slowly pulling it down to look at the door as the footsteps drew closer and closer, a shadow flashed across the door and suddenly the thunks stopped, right outside the door...
"D-D-Doc-t-tor..." she stuttered in a terrified whisper, shaking him. "D-Doct-t-tor..."
"What?" the Doctor muttered tiredly, turning over to her, half-asleep.
She grabbed his arm and slowly pointed to the door with it. "Footsteps!" she squeaked.
The Doctor sighed and sat up, looking at the door and listening for a few moments. Then he sank back into bed and rolled over again, closing his eyes. "Nothing there, Rose, go to sleep."
"But..."
He was already asleep.
The apparent footsteps didn't sound again. Maybe she really was making it all up.
All the same, she slipped right under the covers and drew them up to her nose, staring at the ceiling again for another ten minutes.
Then she realised she needed the toilet.
She couldn't hold it, she had to go. But there was no way she was going on her own. She turned over to Don and shook him gently.
"No," Don muttered, still half in a dream. "I'm too tired for sex, Lance..."
Rose blinked, frowning slightly, deciding not to delve any further into his dream. She had to conquer her fear, and to do that, she had to go alone.
Swallowing, she slowly clambered out of bed, shimmying across the cover to stand up at the end of the bed. She took the Doctor's coat and torch, wrapping the former around her and the latter shaking about in her nervous palm.
Suddenly it didn't seem like such a good idea.
But she had to go on. She took a breath, counted to ten, stepped forward and opened the bedroom door.
The hallway was empty and completely undisturbed, but somehow every creak seemed to be something out to get her, so she tried not to think about it. This was pathetic. She'd seen off thousands of alien monsters and she had never, ever been as scared as this before. The Doctor would be laughing at her if he could see her, she knew. So she forced herself onwards walking to the bathroom...
She got there, and pushed open the door. It was almost completely pitch black inside; her torch being the only source of light, reflecting off a mirror. She carefully stepped forward towards the old dirty toilet, looking at the mirror with just a glance... And caught a black silhouette behind her...
She tried to look around, but all she could do was stand and stared at the mirror reflection, transfixed by the silhouette. It couldn't be a... It was just... Just a shadow... On the wall... Just a...
The silhouette began to grow bigger, moving forward towards her. She tried to run, but her feet seemed frozen to the spot, she tried to scream but her voice had died in her throat, pure fear reaching up from inside her and squeezing on her throat as she stared wide eyed into the mirror... Then the silhouette suddenly darted forward into the shadows to reveal its true form, reaching out from behind her towards her neck...
A/N: One part to go. Enjoy your Hallowe'en night! :D