It's been almost a year since I updated this story and I'm so sorry to anyone who is interested in continuing to read it. But anyway, here's chapter eight.


Overflowing fear hit The Doctor like a tidal wave, pulling him out to sea with one quick swipe.

"Easy?" He sputtered. "I doubt it was easy. I'm never easy, I'm The Doctor!"

"You are The Doctor, indeed." The voice echoed off the walls as he looked around, trying to follow it. "It is nice to know that the last Time Lord in existence knows what his own name is. Or should I say, what he likes to be called."

The Doctor strode to the console, looking around at the red lights. They gave a rather eerie, evil effect to the whole room (as most evil sounding otherworldly creatures did). The calming, blue glow of his wonderful TARDIS had vanished entirely, making the dark shadows seem even darker, and a whole bunch scarier. He kept picturing armies of elves climbing out of the shadows, determined on attacking him when he wasn't looking. He got the brief image of his head but with an elf on the shelf face and he shivered. He knew if Clara was there, she would've told him that the TARDIS, his TARDIS, she was still there. Still around them. Trapped but, working her way out second by second.

He would've kissed his imaginary Clara if she wasn't imaginary. She was an absolute genius. He just needed to give his TARDIS some time.

And what a better excuse than to talk to the creature. That was what he always did: talk. It was all that he was good at. He could convince otherworldly creatures not to attack earth by talking. Talking was his ultimate weapon. The type of weapon that his enemy, the weird elves or whatever they were, would never expect coming. He could do this. The TARDIS, she could unstick herself, and then everything would be okay.

And Clara would never have to know a single second of it. She had enough weight on her shoulders worrying about Mrs Rosenthal, she did not need anything more.

"What do you want with me?" He began.

"With you? Oh, nothing." The voice snickered menacingly.

"Clearly you wanted something to do with me. Every single creature who decides it's a good idea to bother earth as well as The Doctor does. That is the only thing any of you ever want. So, what is it? No. Give me a minute," he strode around, pacing, trying to make it look like he was having trouble thinking straight, "I'll figure it out. I always do."

"Something to do with you, huh? Oh, that's somewhat closer Doctor." A brief pause. "Think harder."

"You want the TARDIS?" Everybody wanted the TARDIS. It was the last one in existence. Sure, it was a little rough around the edges but that was just how he liked her. She had a spark that none of the other TARDISes had back when Gallifrey was filled with the magnificent machines. She was his TARDIS. He was her Doctor. They were destined to travel the stars together, battle monsters together, and win! Not… Not this.

"For heaven's sake, Doctor, you really do have a thick skull." The voice sighed, bored. "That will be the end of you, we suppose. Your thick skull."

The whole room shook, and The Doctor was thrown to the side, forcing him to grab onto the railing to keep him from falling. The creature was upset. Or it was laughing. It was hard to tell. Creatures were always terribly difficult to understand when they were making noises that he wasn't used to. He could pick up languages quickly but, not that quickly. And the TARDIS wasn't helping. She had her own problems to worry about.

"Thick skull? I suppose so. Perhaps that's the curse of the Time Lords. A thick skull." He let out one loud, almost fake sounding laugh.

The Doctor hoped the creature, whatever it was, couldn't read his thoughts. But his mind was completely boggled. If they did not want the TARDIS, and they did not want him… What on earth could they possibly be asking for? Sure, it was selfish but, there wasn't really anything else that the creatures could want. Sure, capturing Earth was a usual target but, to attack one single TARDIS to take over earth? It was too small a ship to singlehandedly engulf the entire planet in flames. The creatures, whoever they were, they probably had a ship over their own.

Or maybe they did not have a ship at all.

Maybe they could travel through space without a ship.

That made him shiver. It was not a pleasant thought. If that was the case, he would really have to step up his Protection-Of-The-Human-Race game. He would have to set up boundaries around the earth that could seriously harm the space missions that the humans were so sure of taking to the moon and other planets. If he was in any other situation, he would've sighed. If that was the case with the creature… They were a force to be reckoned with.

"Let's give him a hint, shall we?" There was a brief pause as the creature took a moment to think. Or maybe discuss with itself. The Doctor wasn't sure. "What matters most to you in the whole world?"

"Me?"

What mattered to him. What kind of hint was that? Everything mattered to him. Every human, every universe, every single being. He did not want to kill, to mame. He was called The Doctor because he wanted to protect, to help. To change the lives of people who seemed so meaningless in the endless expanse of space, of history.

"We can practically hear your brain thinking, Doctor. Spit it out." The Doctor gave the ship a look. "Oh come on! We want to hear what you think. It's more fun this way."

"Well, your hint isn't a very good one. I care about everyone on this planet. Everything. Why would I protect earth otherwise? I love the humans, the animals. I love all of it. I care about all of it."

"Are you sure?"

"I do!" He meant it. But maybe, just maybe, they were talking about something specific. Someone specific. His stomach did a cartwheel. He did not like where the conversation was going.

"You take humans out to see the universe in your little snogbox. Their little lives would be so boring without you. So many… There have been so many… Who to choose, who to choose."

"Who to choose?"

"Yes, obviously. You're a lot more daft than people say you are. Of course it's one of them. One of the hundreds, thousands, millions of people you've dragged in here."

"Surely I haven't dragged that many people in here." He could name them all but he didn't ever want to give it a number. To give them all numbers… Now that would just force them all down to being tally marks on his metaphorical bedpost. Every person was important. Every single one from the ones that had died thousands of years ago to the ones who wouldn't be born until thousands of years in the future.

"Time has yet to tell how many people you will bring into this place. This dump. But, nothing will change what is about to happen." The creature was getting too impatient. They were going to tell The Doctor without him figuring it out. It would be more amusing to watch him struggle in pain anyway. "She has been selected, your Clara Oswald."

The Doctor felt something in his chest tighten. His Clara, his impossible girl. "Selected? What do you mean?" The term 'selected' could not possibly mean anything good, especially from what they had seen of the late Mrs Rosenthal. The image of Clara's head with the face of a stitched together elf on the shelf just made him angry.

"You really do not understand what we do here, do you Doctor. It's a pity, we figured that you would be smart enough to understand." The creature sighed loudly. "We are the elves, we watch, we listen. We provide a gift to those who pass on."

The Doctor raised his nonexistent eyebrows. "A gift?"

"Indeed. The dead, more than anything, their souls desire to reunite with those who are still living. To say a goodbye, one last goodbye. But, that is not as great as what we offer. No, our gift is the greatest Christmas gift of all. The dead wish to rejoin the living but that is impossible." There was a pause and The Doctor could almost hear the creature smile. "However, it is not nearly as impossible for the living to rejoin the dead."

The Doctor's hands felt cold and clammy. That, that was not a good Christmas gift. In fact, it was hardly a gift at all. And Clara… His Clara… She was selected. She was going to end up like Mrs Rosenthal lying on her bed in that very apartment.

The creature continued to speak. "The rules are simple. The dead and the living must still desire each other's company. They must miss each other. Just as the Rosenthal's did. Mr Rosenthal died, horribly, and he desired to see his wife again. Mrs Rosenthal desired to see her husband as well. And now, thanks to us, they get to see each other again."

The Doctor gaped. Sure, in theory the creature, the elves, they were doing something good for the human race. They were bringing loved ones together, and for the holidays as well. Allowing the missed to be seen, allowing the grieving to see those they missed. But to destroy the lives of those who still had lives left to live, it was almost too much to bear.

And Clara Oswald.

She was going to be their next victim.

The Doctor rushed to the door of the TARDIS and looked out the windows. The creature roared with what had to be laughter behind him but he ignored it. He focused on the petite yet, stunning young woman who had her back to him. She was entirely unaware of anything that had been going on during the last few minutes. Blissfully unaware. Although the situation was a bit hectic, he took a moment to just look at her.

Clara's hair sat gently on her shoulders, curving inwards slightly with a strange sort of elegance. She had her arms crossed tightly across her chest, and she looked a tad bit irritated about being left out for so long. She had a rather short skirt on but, she always had a rather short skirt on. It was strange though, The Doctor squinted at her skirt. He didn't remember the skirt having a splotch of bright red on it before. Perhaps she had spilled some paint when he wasn't looking. Perhaps-

He froze right there.

It wasn't a splotch of bright red paint on her skirt. No. Climbing its way up her body was an elf on the shelf doll. But that wasn't the worst of it. The doll had a sharp looking blade in place of its hand and it looked ready to kill. But even that wasn't the worst of it. The chinny Doctor pulled at the doors to his TARDIS but they continued not to budge. A sinking feeling settled in his stomach as his mind raced trying to find a way to escape, to warn Clara. The laughter of the creature seemed to grow louder and louder, as the feeling settled in his stomach completely.

Both The Doctor and the creature had figured a horrible fact. There wasn't a thing he could do to save her.


I believe I'm back on a roll again with this story so hopefully, HOPEFULLY I'll be able to finish it now that I'm on break. I'm really sorry to everyone who has/had been reading. I'm terrible about keeping up with my ideas and whenever I start something I never really want to finish it. If you're willing to forgive me, please send me a review, I would greatly appreciate it.

Until next time (I promise it'll be soon!)

Matteo