River could see again, dimly, though it was still far too quiet for comfort. She didn't dare sing again for fear it would be that song, and so she let her footsteps be the only sound. She kept her hand on the wall, because even though it was brighter now, she feared the dark when it was paired with the silence. That was how she discovered the gap in the wall. It wasn't a large opening - perhaps a metre wide, all told - but so much the better - she could reach both sides of the corridor this way. She turned the corner.

/

The Toymaker didn't like using such crude tactics as basic fear of the dark - it was so vulgar, so simplistic and with no style to speak of. But he did often use them when building a new play space, to get to know his toys, to see what would make them respond. This woman had barely reacted to the darkness or to the silence, at least not outwardly. That message she had tried to send, however - that was an indication of her true state of mind. She was terrified.

/

River was faced with a choice. She had come to a dead end, but she had passed a couple of paths, one on either side of the corridor further back. Should she investigate here? Or go back and take one of the other paths? And if so, which one? And how was she to find her way through this maze? Whoever had done this - taken her from her safe little cell and brought her here - had done it while she was asleep and nearly defenseless. She didn't even have a lipstick on her with which to mark her path, even assuming the path stayed the same. Which seemed a bit unlikely, based on what had happened so far.

She was getting angry. Well, good. She could use anger. Anger was better than that stupid crippling fear, and singing inane nursery songs to yourself.

/

The Doctor had better get here soon, because by herself this girl was not that interesting of a toy. But what to do in the meantime? The last time the Doctor had been here, his companions had played Blind Man's Bluff, but one needed more than one toy for that. And then he recalled the song she had been singing; its tune was sufficiently eerie to entertain him... especially if the girl played with some of his old toys to that tune. There was always dancing...

/

The maze was changing, River was sure of it. So she was ready for anything as she turned another corner. Or so she thought... until the music started. There were no words, but oh she knew the childish sing-song tune. It was coming from everywhere, all around her. She closed her eyes briefly to compose herself. Not the fear, River told herself, use the anger or the fear uses you! She opened her eyes and began to walk forward again, through the gloom and the sound of the nursery song, trying not to hum along. There was another corner ahead and to the right, so she edged up to it and took a quick look around it.

"EXTERMINATE"

She pulled her head back quickly. A Dalek? Here? But... it must be an trick of some kind; the Daleks were all gone to the best of her knowledge. She glanced around the corner again. It was still there, floating slowly towards her. But its eyestalk was pointing down at the floor and it... it appeared to be swaying in time to the music - that horrible tune - still coming from an unseen source. It didn't seem to be threatening her, but the surreal concept of a Dalek dancing unnerved her, so she retreated.

And found that the corridor behind her was blocked by something soft and squishy, and slightly larger than human-sized. River cast a quick glance at what had suddenly appeared just behind her and nearly screamed. Slitheen, too? How had it snuck up on her without her being aware of it? And that, over there at the other end of the dimly-lit corridor... was that a Cyberman? She tried to back against a wall so she could keep all three creatures within her field of vision, and discovered that the walls had gone, and the corridor was now a large round room, and she was right in the middle of it. She turned in a slow circle, trying to see everything at once, the way one had to do with the Silence. She had the fleeting thought that maybe they were here too, but since she would forget them as soon as she lost eye contact, she tried to put them out of her mind. As River turned in her slow circle, that part of her mind that was not sobbing with terror noted that more - she'd call them creatures - more creatures were appearing as soon as she turned her back, creatures of all different types. Sontarans and Silurians and Judoon and Nestene Autons, and many other species, they were all there, and all wearing human-style formal wear and swaying along to that damned nursery tune, which was itself getting louder and which now contained the words... in her own voice.

(Tick tock goes the clock, he cradled her and rocked her...)

When she caught a glimpse of Madame Kovarian chatting amiably with the Time Lord known as The Master, her nerve broke, and she ran. She raced blindly through the crowd of alien and all-too-human creatures and sprinted for the doorway that appeared in the wall in front of her. She ran down this new corridor, her breath coming in quick sobbing gasps, and the sound of the nursery rhyme and her own pulses pounding in her head. This corridor was different, there were no branches off of it, and she skidded to a stop at the dead end, half-collapsing against the wall. And the voice came from behind her, from back the way she had come.

"Hi, Honey. I'm home."