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The first drops of rain were warm as they grazed her cheeks, forehead and thighs. A single drop trailed down her cheek, splashed against her collar bone and slowly trickled down between her breasts.
Her first, confused thought was to question how exactly it was possible for it to be raining indoors.
Cassidy's eyes snapped open as a cold wind suddenly drew across her body, causing her to shudder.
Her surroundings sent a tremor of shock through her, binding her to the spot.
She was no longer standing on the tiles of her kitchen floor, inside the house that she shared with her mother. She was standing on the pavement of a footpath, outside, facing a huge, towering, red-brick building.
The building seemed to stretch upward endlessly, grazing the rust-coloured sky above and a rusted wrought iron sign with peeling paint just above the huge double-doors proclaimed: "The Summer Bank Hotel."
On either side of the sign, a granite gargoyle crouched, their sightless grey eyes staring out on to the street ahead.
Shivering violently, she turned around, looking around herself.
"How did I get here?" her thoughts numbly echoed.
Only half-consciously, she brought her fingers to her forearm and gave herself a hard pinch. She winced, having silently asked a stupid question that Pain had answered; no, she was definitely not dreaming.
She turned around slowly, on the spot, slowly taking in her surroundings.
Mere seconds ago, had she not been standing in her kitchen? Cornered by a stone angel?
Had he somehow taken her here? Had she been unconscious?
She could vaguely remember him touching her…and with an unwelcome heat growing in her chest, she could remember that his touch had felt like flesh rather than stone.
The very thought of her once-dear Michael was enough to set Cassidy's teeth chattering but as she looked around herself, she could see no sign of him anywhere.
In fact, aside from the hotel and a few other dilapidated buildings, the street on which she stood was rather barren. Not a single car drove down the road and not a soul walked on the footpath.
The Summer Bank faced out on to a wide, railed-off river, its choppy waters half-glazed in the amber glow of sundown.
Cassidy did not recognise the area as anywhere that she had ever been before.
She shivered again.
The wind was starting to get cooler and the rain was starting to get colder, slowly soaking into the fabric of her tank top and the canvas of her converse.
Deciding that standing around in this weather, regardless of her apparent whereabouts. It was only when she had jogged up the steps of The Summer Bank that she realised the two huge double doors of the hotel were open.
"It looks abandoned," she thought. "Still, standing with a grimy roof over my head in a rain shower is better than standing with no roof over my head in a rain shower."
Cassidy looked up at some of the grotty windows above her as she reached for the handle. It surprised her to see an old man standing at one of the windows.
"I was wrong," she mentally noted, with raised eyebrows. "The hotel may look a little rough around the edges but it's definitely still in operation."
The old man was now pressing a hand to the window and mouthing something at her.
But with the glass, Cassidy had no idea what he was trying to say.
A rumble of thunder in the distance instantly diverted her attention and she ran straight into the lobby.
The doors slammed shut behind her and she jumped, almost slipping on the tiles beneath her feet. Her eyebrows knitted with confusion as she slowly looked around what she thought would be a working hotel lobby.
Each of her steps echoed ominously as she walked inside- her footsteps being the only thing to break the thin, eerie silence.
The place was as deserted as the street had been outside and there was only one source of light in the whole space: a single glass lamp on the unattended reception desk.
Cassidy noticed that the place was very well decorated; as an archaeologist and general history enthusiast, she could appreciate the very vintage, old-fashioned décor. There was even an old 1920s typewriter on the desk before her, the elevator had an similarly out-dated fold-away door and the black and white framed photographs on the walls made her feel as if she was standing on the set of a Hollywood gangster film.
That said, even the glamorous comforters and lavish drapes were coated in dust, the plants on either side of the main doors were brown, dead and withered in their pots and only indication that anyone had ever set foot in the room at all was the sheer quantity of scattered luggage bags left randomly strewn about around the waiting area.
"Strange," whispered Cassidy, half-considering whether or not she should walk up to the desk and actually just ring the service bell.
Suddenly the lamp on the desk flickered, the shadows around her, stretching and writhing. She froze, feeling a cold draft draw across her again, her heart-rate quickening rapidly.
Someone or something had definitely moved behind her and for the first time, she realised how creepy the room she was standing in truly was.
Unseen to her, a pair of eyes were watching her from the darkness.
Then another pair joined that pair of eyes.
Then another.
And another
Watching her.
Perfectly quiet. Perfectly still.
Just watching her.
Awaiting their orders to move.
Paranoia gnawed at the corners of Cassidy's mind, fuelled by the fear that was simmering inside of her.
Forcing herself to be brave, she turned around slowly- to see if someone had followed her into the hotel.
The sight that Cassidy saw her behind her was enough to draw a scream of pure terror from the young woman. This scream was so high-pitched, thin and reedy with fear that it echoed around the lobby, rebounding against the tiles and causing the glass chandelier above her head to shake.
She was no longer alone in the lobby.
Instead, standing behind her were five angel statues.
Her scream spent, Cassidy's jaw was still slack and her eyes were wide.
Each of the angel statues was only a little shorter than Michael but still just as intimidating. In a stark contrast to her own stone seraph's huge, hulking, masculine body- the five angels who stood before her were all slender, effeminate with vaguely beautiful faces. All of them wore the same kind of Greek chiton that her Michael wore, their wings raised and their arms resting gracefully at their sides.
However, their blank-eyed stares were focused firmly on Cassidy.
They had surrounded her in a neat semi-circle, completely blocking the front door and her only chance of an escape.
"A-Alright," Cassidy murmured softly to herself, remembering that screaming and crying at Michael had done nothing to sway him. Clearly, these statues were also of Michael's kind, pleading with them would be futile. "And I can't run either. If I look away, they can m-move…"
Shakily and gradually, she started to walk backwards.
Unlike at the museum, she had no idea what she was planning to do or where she was walking to. All she knew was that she needed to get to an exit of some kind as soon as possible.
Her eyes stung and watered but she was determined not to blink.
"Don't blink, don't blink, don't blink," she whispered to herself in a motivational mantra. "Don't blink, don't blink, don't blink, don't bl-…"
She had bumped into something.
Something large. Something sturdy.
Something with firm, unmarred skin that was freezing cold.
Before she could even draw a frightened breath, Cassidy turned around sharply and even before she turned, Cassidy knew exactly who was standing behind her.
There was Michael.
Glaring down at her with an expression that was more terrifying than the monstrous show of teeth and claws that he had confronted her with earlier.
Like the female angels, his face was completely neutral, expressionless and almost serene. Despite that, his wide, staring eyes radiated nothing but glacial cruelty and his gently parted lips seemed to be just barely suppressing a sneer.
Unable to breathe, Cassidy leapt backwards, starting to move away from him as quickly as she could. Her breath jerked back into her throat with a frightened gasp when she noticed that the angels behind her had moved. They were now reaching for her, their fingers curled to grasp her thin limbs.
She watched the six of them intently, walking backwards.
Her mouth had gone dry and her body seemed to only barely capable of moving yet her mind was racing.
She tried her best not to blink but after just a few moments, the brimming tears in her lower lids became too much for her eyes to bear.
She was forced to blink and in that fraction of a second, the angels had her surrounded. Michael was now in the centre, with the five others flanking him.
While their faces still bore no emotion, his grey-stone lips- the ones that she had previously kissed- were now curled into a smirk.
"He is just toying with me," Cassidy thought, finding herself backed against the door of the elevator. "They're all toying with me. They're all faster than this...so why haven't they touched me yet?"
Her body jerked with shock when the elevator behind her let out a ringing sound and the metal grate slowly opened.
The elevator compartment that she hadn't called waited for her patiently. It was a little too much of a coincidence for her not to suspect foul play but too frightened to suffer another mental tryst and unwilling to risk pushing her way through the living statues who surrounded her, Cassidy slowly backed into the elevator.
It was only when she was inside of the velvet compartment that she realised just how old-fashioned the elevator was. There were was no proper button panel- just a lever for indicating which floor one wished to travel to.
Cassidy did not even have to touch this lever for the moment that she was standing in the centre of the compartment, the door closed and the elevator shot upward.
Her heart started to beat in uneven, rhythmless tremors as the doors opened on to a long corridor, lit only by two flickering lights on the ceiling. On either side of the hall-way, polished maple doors lined the walls- presumably the hotel rooms.
Fearing that she had no better alternative, Cassidy started to walk out of the elevator, her damp converse squeaking with each step on the red carpet. She noticed that rather than having number plates on the doors, the doors had name plates instead.
"T. Robinson…M. Austin…L. Hlukaku…B. O'Leary…D. Befort…"
Before she could even consider this fact to be strange or unsettling, her attention was pulled by the angel standing at the top of the corridor and she froze.
The stone angel stood at the wall at the end of the hallway, its hands over its eyes as if crying in anguish.
"The same way Michael was when I found him," she thought, looking around for some means of escape. But the angel didn't appear to be moving even when she looked away; could it even see her?
Cassidy noticed that a single door ahead of her was ajar, pale light spilling out across darkened floor and splitting the shadows where they lay.
She immediately rushed to it, seeking shelter within but the moment she lay her hand upon the gold handle, her entire body seized where she stood.
The name-plate on the door read "C. Albright."
There was no doubt.
The room was intended for her.
Cassidy's shock had very little time to settle for a split second later, the door right next to hers burst open and a man stumbled out.
He was young, ashen-faced and his tousled, black hair was slicked to his forehead with the gleaming salt of sweat. He wore a loose white shirt, khaki dress trousers and a set of red suspenders, slung over his shoulders.
"I'll fucking die! You all hear me, you stone bastards!? I would damn well die rather than stay a part of your fucking feeding grounds here!" he screamed with a heavy Brooklyn accent, his face slowly turning puce. "You won't take another year from me, you fucking agents of Hell! You can all-…all…!"
The man froze at the sight of Cassidy as she froze at the sight of him.
His mouth fell slack for a moment before he suddenly fell to his knees, coughing and hacking violently. His chest heaved sporadically and he clutched at his throat, clawing at the protruded jugular vein, his eyes wide and staring.
"W-Watch…it…" he managed to choke out, pointing.
Cassidy followed his gaze and noticed that the angel at the end of the corridor had moved and was now standing only a foot away from the two of them, its eyes locked on the young man and its long, slender arms at its sides.
"D-Don't…" he spluttered, wheezing heavily as he moved closer to the floor, staring at Cassidy. "D-D-Don't…"
She hesitated for a moment, noticing that the angels from downstairs were now in the corridor too.
Michael was in their midst, towering above the smaller females and watching Cassidy with the same intent stare. One of his long, muscular arms was outstretched, seemingly reaching out towards her.
Cassidy wanted to keep looking at all of them but at the same time, there was obviously something seriously wrong with the man, now hunched over on the ground at her feet and choking for air.
The angels made no movement to stop her and taking this as her only chance, Cassidy dropped to her knees beside the man, placing her hand on his back.
"Are you alright?" she asked. "Could you try to sit up for me?"
The man shook his head, his movements become progressively jerkier but much weaker. His lips had soon turned blue and his eyelids started to droop.
Cassidy's eyes widened.
She didn't need to ask what was wrong with the man.
He was having an asthma attack: the exact kinds that her mother used to have in the earlier stages of her illness.
"No…no…"
It wasn't just the traumatic memories of watching her mother suffocate that flooded her mind but also the fact that this man was possibly the only other human being in this building, that spurred her actions.
There was no way that she was going to let him die.
She guided his limp form to lie upon the floor, as she had practiced so many times before with her mother. After lifting his throat to open his airway, Cassidy pinched the man's nose and started breathing into his mouth. His pulse revealed that his heart-rate was only slightly improving and Cassidy immediately started pressing on his chest, weighting his sternum to coax his heart into pumping faster.
"Come on…come on…"
The man's eyes suddenly widened and he sucked in a deep breath, his body spasming as he coughed. Relief surged through Cassidy as air surged through the man's lungs once more but when he finally came to, it wasn't gratitude that poured from his lips.
"W-Why? Y-Y-You…? W-why did you damn well do that, woman? Why would you fucking do that?"
She reeled back in shock but had no time to ponder his callous response to her charitable act.
The lights above their heads flickered and in those brief seconds of darkness, Cassidy and the man were hauled to their feet. Both grabbed by two of the angels.
Cassidy winced, letting out a cry at the feeling of the angels' cold, stone skin pressed against hers. It was much rougher and coarser than Michael's and it grazed her bare flesh.
The lights continued flickering and for each second that Cassidy could not see the angels, she found herself being shoved into the open door that had been labelled with her name.
"What are they doing to us?!" she shouted at the asthmatic man. "What are they doing?! Why are they doing this?!"
But the man simply hung his head, refusing to answer and giving up on struggling with the angels' hold.
Cassidy looked to Michael.
"Why are you doing this?"
The menacing stone angel was now standing right next to her. His glare suggested that she had done something terribly wrong but he was smirking eerily.
She had no idea if he could speak or not but at that point in time, she did not need him to say a word- she knew exactly what he was wanted to say.
"I have you exactly where I want you."
The lights in the hallway suddenly died, plunging them all into complete darkness and Cassidy was roughly thrown into the room intended for her.
The door was slammed shut after her.
Sprawling on the carpet, her shoulders, backside and elbows burning and throbbing from the impact, Cassidy slowly pulled herself to her feet.
The room was dark but thankfully the room had a single window and some strangled, weak light from the twilight sky illuminated the corner of a wall and the blurry outline of an old standing lamp.
After a few seconds of fumbling, she managed to turn the lamp on and its bulb cast light across the room.
It was a typical hotel room but it had the same vintage flavour as the reception had. The wallpaper was an embossed pink and green floral pattern and the carpet was the same faint creamy colour as the curtains. There was a mahogany bureau, a wide wardrobe and two small tables flanking the white double bed. However all the drawers and compartments were empty.
There was a bathroom with a toilet, sink and bath-tub shower too.
Everything was clean but also remarkably plain. The only interesting object was an old-fashioned candlestick phone. She recognised it from the "Roaring Twenties" exhibit that the museum had just a few months ago. It had a separate mouth-piece and listening device, connected by a wire.
Curiously, Cassidy took up the listening piece and held it to her ear.
"Is this a prop?" she thought. "Or does this old thing actually work?"
She could hear a vague whirring sound but she couldn't tell whether or not it was a dial tone. She sighed, hanging up the listening device once more. It was no use: even if the phone worked, it had no keys or even a rotary-dial. How was she supposed to call someone?
She may have been an archaeologist but she was an expert when it came to statues and sculptures, not household appliances from the past.
Cassidy paced the room, what felt to her like a thousand times over, until she knew every centimetre of it. Thoughts of escape were running through her mind in a constant, unconscious, monotonous drone like the drumming of hooves.
The door was locked tight from the outside.
There was an air-vent in both the bedroom and the bathroom but neither were big enough for her to fit her head into, let alone her entire body.
The window was also stuck tight. That said, the room had to be on what was at least the fourth floor.
There was no way that climbing out of the window was an option.
Cassidy tried the door for the hundredth time, trying to force the handle down without her plans coming to any kind of fruition.
She groaned, knuckling her forehead and trying to ease the headache that was splintering behind her temples.
Did she even really want to get out? Supposing that she got into the hallway, those angel…statue…things…were still out there.
"Michael is still out there," she thought, trying to peer out of the keyhole. "Isn't he?"
The door didn't have any kind of spy-hole so she couldn't tell for certain.
The young woman came to sit on the bed, sinking down into the springs of the mattress and running her fingers through her hair.
Where was she? What was this place? How was she going to get home? To her job? To her mother?
What were those stone monsters planning on doing with her?
The whole situation didn't feel real.
Yet the pain in her limbs, the soreness in her head and her heart's constant, quavering, terrified beat told her that it was all really happening.
"Oh God," Cassidy whispered under her breath, tears starting to seep from her eyes once more. "Oh God, what is this? This is so fucked up. This is so fu-…"
A loud, shrill ringing suddenly jerked her from her despair. She looked around frantically for the source of the ringing and found it to be coming from the candlestick phone.
She approached it cautiously- as though it was a rabid dog. Slowly, she placed a hand over the listening piece, brought it carefully to her ear and guided the mouthpiece into position.
"H-Hello?"
"Hello, Cassidy? Cassidy Albright?"
She was surprised to hear a young man's British accent answer her but it was certainly not a voice that she recognised.
"Y-y-yes, who is this?"
The man gave a sigh of what sounded like relief. "Ah, you have no idea how happy I am to hear you, Cassidy. I've been trying to find you for three hours now."
"Yes but who is this? How do you know who I am?"
"Ah yes! How rude of me. We've met before. I'm the doctor."
"…Doctor who?"
"No, just the doctor…don't you…oh, that's right…we haven't met properly yet…ahem, um…the funeral! Do you remember meeting me after the funeral? Oh gosh…it would have been …three weeks ago?"
Cassidy blinked, realising. "You…you were the man in the blue police box."
"Yes, yes! That's exactly right! Now, you need to listen to me very carefully, Cassidy."
She didn't know why or how he had managed to call her, all she knew was that this could be her one and only chance of rescue.
"Doctor…I...you have to help me. I'm trapped in s-some place…a hotel…I d-don't know where…"
"Yes, I know. Don't worry. I know."
"Y-You know?"
"Yes and I know all about the angels too. I know that the angel from the museum stalked you, found you and with one touch, transported you to somewhere you've never seen before."
Her eyes widened. "How do you know all of this?"
"I've dealt with these creatures before, Cassidy. I know exactly what they're capable of."
"Creatures? You mean the statues?"
The man took a deep but hoarse breath. "They're not really statues, Cassidy. They're only statues when they're being directly observed by another living creature…"
"W-what?"
"They are quantum-locked. It's a fact of their existence. When watched by another creature, their bodies turn to stone…"
"…so you're telling me that the statue that I brought to the museum…is actually a creature that comes to life every time someone isn't watching it?"
"Precisely. They're century old creatures from far across the galaxy," he told her, matter-of-factly. "Lonely assassins, they used to be called. Now, they're more commonly known as Weeping Angels. Of course, when they're frozen in stone, they're not really weeping at all. They're just covering their eyes to prevent themselves from looking at another being of their kind."
His tone was casual and completely serious. The lack of any kind of a dramatic tone in his voice indicated that he wasn't trying very desperately to convince her that all of this was true. He was simply stating a fact.
As such and after all she had seen, Cassidy could only assume that everything that the man had said so far was true. Not to mention, aside from any other reason, he was the only person who knew where she was and the only one she could trust.
"So…these… "Weeping Angels"…they're… aliens?"
"Yes, exactly. Aliens who are famed for their extreme ruthlessness and cruelty."
Cassidy took a deep breath. "Alright…I understand…but what do they want with me?"
"They've made you part of their feeding grounds…for now. The females are content to feed off of you for now but the angel that you took to the museum…" The doctor gave a grunt of annoyance. "Please, please promise me that you'll try and stay away from him. Don't do anything that he tries to get you to do and ignore him at all costs."
"Feeding grounds?!" Cassidy repeated, half-deliberately ignoring the latter half of his statement. "They're going to feed off of me?!"
"Yes th.-a -..s…'ime…d-…and…years…"
Cassidy frowned. "You're starting to break up, doctor. I can only barely hear you…"
"..ang…ou…." There was a loud clicking sound and the doctor's voice came back clearly again. "The transmission is starting to die. I don't have much time left, Cassidy."
"Doctor, I-!"
"I just need you to listen for a moment. Please. There are three very important things that you need to remember about dealing with the Weeping Angels. Firstly, don't turn your back on them and don't blink, if you can manage it. Their greatest strength is also their greatest weakness and they're easier to deal with when they're frozen and you can see them. Watch out though, because they're wickedly fast…"
Cassidy swallowed. "Yes, yes, I've noticed that. What else?"
"Secondly, even when they are frozen, keep looking at them but don't look directly into their eyes. Your mind is your best weapon against them. Don't allow them any access to it."
She didn't have the slightest idea what he meant by that but hearing the line starting to break again, she quickly replied. "Alright, I won't look into their eyes. What's the third thing?"
"Make sure that you don't have any photographs or drawings of the angels in your room…any image that contains an angel, becomes itself an angel…oh…oh no…"
"What? What is it?"
"It's them…they've noticed our signal…they're trying to cut me off…"
"Can't you stop them?"
"Not at the moment, Cassidy. I'm going to drop the line but don't worry, we're already looking for you. We'll find you soon."
"What? No! Doctor! Please don't go…please…they'll kill me, won't they?"
"…No, Cassidy. I promise you that they won't."
"How do you know that? You said that they're renowned for being cruel…that they want to feed from me…"
"I know you in the future, Cassidy. You're not going to die anytime soon."
"You…know me…in the…?"
"Yes, yes…I 'an't…expl…I…the line is breaking again..."
"Doctor?! Please you have to help me. Will you call again?"
"I promise you, Cassidy…I'll find you soon and everything will all be alright again…just remember what I told you and stay where you are. Stay right where you are. Don't try to escape." She noticed that his voice had ascended from calm and diplomatic to frighteningly urgent and each word was laced with worry. "I…I really wish that I could help you. If I could, I'd take you away from there right now."
"...Doctor, what is going to happen to me here?"
"Cassi'…ou..'an…as…and just don't trust anything he tells you."
"What?" Cassidy's breath started to grow shallow, stopping in her throat and barely permeating her lungs. "Don't trust anything who tells me?"
"I'm sorry, but he's heard us."
"D'you m-mean Michael? You mean Michael, d-don't you?"
"He's coming for you, Cassidy. Stay strong."
"Doctor? Doctor!? Don't go!"
"I…I'm 'orry, 'assidy…"
"Doctor!?"
The lamp in the corner of the room suddenly flickered and a cold rush of air swept over her, causing her to tremble.
"Doctor?" she repeated, only to have nothing but thin silence answer her.
The line had gone completely dead.
She slowly looked up and her body jerked as she let out a breathless scream.
The huge, stone, male angel whom she had christened Michael, was standing right beside the bed and towering over her.
In one of his hands was, what appeared to be a black string. It took Cassidy a few shocked, silent minutes to realise that what he was holding was the wire that connected the phone to the wall: he had torn it out.
She swiped the corners of her eyes with her thumb, trying to dry them without blinking. She had had enough of crying and she tried to look up at him with defiance.
"You're a liar!" she shouted at the figure of stone. "You're a liar! You fooled us all at the museum into thinking that you were just a normal statue! You…you fooled me…" She swallowed. "But I know what you really are. A weeping angel? Is that it? You're an alien. You're a monster! It all makes sense…" Cassidy's eyes widened as she started to think clearly for this first time. "You must have tampered with the cameras at the museum and…the disappearances…it was all you!"
Her breathing had become ragged. "Well you're in trouble now! Because there's a man. A doctor. He's knows all about you…he's going to come here and he's going to…"
Half-drowned in excitement and hysteria, Cassidy had let her eyelids slip and had blinked. The first thing she felt was something cold against her right cheek.
The stone angel had stooped to her level, so that his eyes were staring deeply into hers. His large, stone hand was now cupping her cheek and holding her head.
Her lips were quivering, spilling shallow, scared breaths on to Michael's own smooth, grey ones. His movements were so tender that they frightened her.
What frightened her most was the fact that he was smiling.
Not a malign, cruel or cold smile this time.
It was a gentle, handsome smile…like the one she used to picture on his face whenever she dreamt about him coming to life at the museum.
She felt sick to her stomach and ashamed of herself as her cheeks started to grow hot and a certain lightness started to flutter in her stomach.
"No," she told herself. "He's a monster. He kidnapped you. He's going to hurt you. Remember what the doctor said."
"I know what you're doing," she whispered shakily. "I don't trust you at all…I don't…I…"
Her eyes were suddenly locked on his.
His eyes were grey, blank and unmoving but she could feel that he was staring deeply into her own blue, watery eyes. She was so scared and at the same time, didn't know what to feel. A single, stray tear slipped from the corner of her right eye and slowly trickled down her cheek, rolling across Michael's thumb in a sparkling bead of moisture...
"No! Don't look into his eyes! Remember what the doctor told you!"
She looked away from him immediately but in the haste of her actions and panicked, she looked away from him completely.
Cassidy felt a harsh, stinging, white-hot pain lash across her cheek.
In that split second, Michael had raked his now-clawed fingers down the side of her face, tearing into the vulnerable, soft flesh.
And all the while, he was still smiling at her.
Cassidy gave a dry sob, tearing her head away from him and clapping a hand to her now-bleeding cheek.
Without another word, she got up and ran straight into the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it. She crouched down beside the toilet, crying and fumbling for toilet paper to press against her bloodied face.
She could hear him outside in the bedroom, moving around. She could hear relentless thudding and scratching but not once, did he pound upon the door as he had done before. She heard the main door to the room open and slam shut but still too scared to even contemplate running outside, she remained in the bathroom.
Cassidy stayed there for what felt like an hour, but might have been- in reality- only fifteen minutes. She tested the taps and found that they dispensed clean, hot and cold water. She also, with muted appreciation, noticed that the bathroom cabinet had small bottles of shampoo, tooth-paste, cakes of paper-covered soap, old-fashioned scented water, a toothbrush and a frilly pink shower cap. She took them out of the cabinet, laid them on the floor, stacked them, counted them, sniffed the bottles, tried on the shower cap and placed them back upon the white shelves once more.
She cleaned the wound on her cheek with dampened toilet tissue, trying to ignore how wan and pathetic the girl in the mirror looked.
"The doctor said that the angel sent me back in time somehow," she thought numbly. "Is that true? Am I really in another time?"
Nothing felt real to her at that moment in time.
After a while, she opened the door a fraction and peered out. Finding that the angel was no longer in the room, she walked back into the bedroom. There was no clock in the room but the single window now revealed that it was now night-time.
Cassidy walked over to the window, looking out into the night sky- inky black and studded with winking, diamond-esque stars. She wondered if anyone else was looking up at those same stars and had anywhere near the same weight on their heart as her.
She thought of her mother and hoped that the elderly woman was alright.
She also managed to console herself that if Michael was here with her, at least he wasn't anywhere near her mum, her friends or the museum, causing trouble in London.
She blinked, hearing a man's hacking cough from the wall beside her.
Realising that it was coming from the other room- the room that the asthmatic man from earlier had been pushed into. The walls must have been hollow enough to allow sound to pass through.
Not quite sure what she was doing, she slowly rapped her knuckles against the wall, once…and then twice.
"Hello? Sorry, are you alright?"
The man coughed again, apparently stumbling around the room by the sound of it. Though after a few moments, he responded to her. "Yeah…yeah, I'm alright."
He still sounded rather callous and irritated, so instinctively, Cassidy tried to make her voice as soothing as possible.
"I…I'm sorry if I offended you earlier."
"…you didn't offend me, kid. You just royally fucked up my plans."
"It's just…my mum has asthma…I've seen the attacks before. If yours had gotten any worse out there…you probably would have died…"
He gave a sardonic snort. "That was the idea. I exposed myself to some dust in the carpet. Lay there for a few hours and breathed it right in. Knew my lungs would kick off sooner or later. Just wanted those stone assholes to watch me die."
Cassidy's eyes widened. "You were trying to kill yourself? Why?"
The man gave a dry, humourless chuckle. "Those angel things…whatever the fuck they are…they apparently feed off of your life energy…the longer you live, the more they can eat. I didn't fancy being a part of their great big buffet much longer…"
"But…but…" she stammered, shaking her head. "That's no reason to end your own life. You should put your energy into trying to escape."
The man was laughing now. "Girlie, I've been here for exactly sixteen months and I can already tell you that there is no fucking way out of here. Even when they let us outside, they always find us and they always send us back." He coughed again before going on. "And if there's one thing I've learned from being here, is that they've sorted us into two groups. When you got into your lovely room, girlie, was there an old woman in your bed? Saying that she was you from the future?"
Cassidy pressed her ear a lot more firmly to the wall, feeling the pattern of the flowers starting to embed into her aching, wounded cheek. "No…no, there wasn't…but why…?"
The man cut her off with a frighteningly high-pitched snigger. "That means that you don't live out the rest of your life here. You don't die here as an old woman."
"So…I could escape?"
"Weren't you fucking listening? You don't escape, kid. The stone bastards kill you for disobedience or to make room for more people or you kill yourself first, before they can…"
Cassidy took a step back from the wall, walking away and over to the bed.
She couldn't hear the man anymore and truthfully, she didn't want to hear anymore that he had to say.
She took off her shoes and slowly climbed into the bed, each movement in the purgatory between lethargic and automatic. She was tired- physically and mentally.
She let her head sink into the pillow and just as she closed her eyes, she made a promise and a wish.
She promised herself that the man's grim prophecy would not come true. The doctor had said so. She was not going to die here.
She wished that when she next opened her eyes, she would be in her bed at home at this whole nightmare would be over.
The doctor slammed the transmitter down, frowning so deeply that worry-lines entrenched his milk-white forehead.
He looked to Clara. "They cut me off."
His companion, in turn, looked down at the TARDIS console, her eyes glancing over the screens. "Did you manage to trace the call, doctor?"
The timelord shook his head. "No…no, the TARDIS couldn't pick up on her time signature- the essence that is left in the time stream when a being passes through. I know that she's somewhere in 1923 but the question is where?" He groaned. "We need a stronger time signature."
Clara Oswald furrowed her brow. "What about the time signature from the angel?"
The doctor nodded, beckoning for her to follow him out of the TARDIS as he shrugged his long trench coat on to his shoulders. "My thoughts exactly. We need to see if we can pick up on the angel's time travelling trail…" He brandished his sonic screwdriver, wiggling it under her nose before popping it back into his pocket. "…and to do that, we need to find out where Cassidy Albright was when he abducted her…"
The duo stepped out of the blue police box and Clara noticed where they had landed for the first time. She looked across the busy London street, scanning the museum's majestic front façade.
"So we'll be starting at the museum? Her workplace and the one place we know she's definitely been?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow up at her gangly companion.
"Quick and clever as always, my dear Clara," the doctor praised with a wink. "Inspired by information sourced by you, yourself and the magic of Google."
The two of them crossed the street, Clara having to take at least five quick, high-heeled steps to meet the doctor's great, sweeping strides.
When they got into the museum, the first and most outstanding point of notice was that an entire area of the entrance hall had been marked off by yellow police tape.
"Well," Clara said, bemused. "That looks like a good place to start."
The doctor nodded and the two of them headed over to the tape. They were just about to lift the tape and walk right on through but they were promptly stopped by a tall, bespectacled young man with loose, almost white-blonde hair.
"Sorry, no entrance here today," he told them, lifting a hand. "If the police tape wasn't a good enough indication for you; this area is off limits to all museum-guests for the time-being…"
The doctor eyed the clipboard in the man's hand, taking his own black-framed glasses from his pocket and slipping them on.
"Yes, well, we are not museum guests, sir," he proclaimed, flicking the psychic paper in front of the young man's eyes before folding it away. "I am Doctor John Smith of the historical research centre of the Isle of Man and this is Doctor Clara Oswald of the national historical…archaeology department of Ontario, Canada." He adjusted his glasses, peering down the railed-off hallway. "Why ever is this area off-limits? Looks nice and safe to me."
The young man frowned. "There's been an art-theft that the police are still investigating. A statue was stolen last night." He sighed. "And it's now my duty to catalogue every other object in the museum to make sure nothing else has been stolen…so if there's no other way I can help you…"
"Actually there is!" the doctor said quickly, clapping a hand on his shoulder to stop him from leaving.
"Yes, ah…we were actually hoping to talk with one of Ernst Hewitt's apprentice archaeologists," Clara continued. "A Miss Albright? Is she here today?"
The young man blinked, turning around immediately. "Cassidy?" He shook his head, suddenly looking very, very worried, indeed. "No…she didn't show up for work this morning. I've been trying to call her all day but…"
The doctor squeezed the young man's shoulder, cutting across him. "I just realised that we never asked. How rude of us. What's your name?"
The young man looked up at him, over the rim of his glasses. "Edmund. Edmund Potter. I'm an archaeologist in Cassidy's department."
The doctor grinned widely, raising an eyebrow and lowering his voice.
"Well, Mr Potter. I do believe that you're as eager to find Cassidy Albright as we are and…if you're willing to take a little time off work, I think you can help us do exactly that."
Hope you've enjoyed reading! :D
The next chapter will be up soon! Let me know what you think.