Chapter 11: Hostage

The chirping echoed around the chamber, bouncing off of the sides and continuing seemingly forever.

It was followed by a groaning, the wheezing of an ancient man, who had seen forever and chosen to turn back in fear.

'Where am I…?' he asked, barely able to find the breath. 'Who am I?'

The chirping morphed, shifting into a low rumbling growl, booming through the area and back again in a single second.

'I see…nowhere.' the man said glumly. 'As simple as that.'

'You are resisting the attempts.'

'Am I? Sorry about that.'

'You shall cease.'

'Cease what?'

'Cease resisting.'

'Or resist ceasing?'

The man grunted in pain suddenly as a wave of agony swept over him, burning through his synapses, one by one. Punishment, it would seem.

'Pain can be delivered. Answers cannot.'

'So, if I don't answer, you hurt me. Simple interrogation.'

'Simple interrogation.' the voice echoed. 'Answer or die.'

'Good luck getting answers out of a corpse!'

'Death is temporary.'

'So are answers.'

Another ripple of pain.

'Answer our questions.'

'And don't question your answers?'

And another. The man's throat was starting to become raw with the strain of the screaming.

'The pain will not cease. You must answer the questions.'

'All…alright.' the man moaned. 'What are the questions?'

One more surge of pain.

'They will come later.' the voice decided, with the hint of sadistic pleasure lacing its tone.

Oliver slumped against the seat, panting for breath. His arms were aching from the strain and his fists were bruised. The car had been driving for what seemed like days, but only felt like minutes.

He hadn't even made the slightest dent or crack in the door.

In his attempts to escape, he'd tried everything – grabbing the wheel and tugging it in one way, and the other; honking the horn to get the attention of passing drivers – not that there were any – and even pulling out the car keys. The slot had been empty.

Soon after he realised, the lush emerald of the British countryside merged into a harsh jade blur. They didn't pass any roads signs, or forests, or landmarks, or anything. Just the one road, moving like a bullet about to hit its mark.

'What do you want?!' he sobbed, well past the point of desperation. 'What are you doing?!'

There was no reply. At the back of his mind, he really wasn't expecting there to be, but it was a slim and foolish hope that his captors had bugged the car, if for nothing else but to hear his screams and pleas.

The accelerator was pressed down even further – they must be well above the speed limit by now. Silently, he prayed for a policeman to catch the speeding car and take pursuit. It was a vain hope, but it was better than nothing.

The brilliant blue sky and green started to mix, like paint running before it was dry. Soon, everything outside the window was a bizarre shade of turquoise.

And then it started to get closer.

Oliver backed away in fear, using the front seats to support himself. The turquoise was spreading through the glass, pressing against it, coating the car. It started to slip through, bit by bit.

It ran down the inside of the window, reaching the plastic sill and leather upholstery.

'What…what's happening?!' Oliver cried, throwing himself against the other door. His mind raced away, frantically trying to find a logical source for this phenomenon. Was he drugged? Doubtful. He hadn't eaten or drank anything today, and an aerosol would be too random. Dreaming? No, it was too vivid, even for a dream. Optical illusion? Too realistic.

He felt something tingling on the back of his neck, like a length of thread being dragged across his skin. For a second, he clawed at the flesh, trying to scratch the itch…then it spread onto his hand.

In curiosity, he turned around to inspect the window – and found it missing. The turquoise had consumed it.

Oliver flinched, moving back into the centre of the car. He looked at every window in the car; every single one of them was covered in the turquoise. He was surrounded.

In terror, he shrank into his seat, trying to squeeze the last few seconds out of his freedom. The colour spread across the car, creating a single, continuous strip around the side. The roof was still above him, but it was slowly being eaten away.

Slowly, Oliver let out a single sigh, before calming himself slightly. He was trapped, there was no debate about that. But that didn't mean he had to surrender.

He took off his shoe, held it like a rock, and then tossed it towards the turquoise, hurling it with all his might.

It vanished.

Oliver let out a laugh of bewilderment, before clasping his hands to his head. He'd attacked the window with all of his might just a few minutes ago, and now his shoe could pass through it with ease.

The roof had now been consumed, as the mottled grey fabric was over-run by turquoise. It started to move down, cascading like a waterfall. The dashboard was missing, and the steering wheel was very much headed in the same direction.

It crept up behind him through the boot, sneaking over the backseats. Like a swarm of insects moving towards their food, it gained on him. And in a matter of seconds, all hope was lost.

By this point, Oliver was darting his head back and forth, desperately alternating between front and back, left and right. It was an ambush for certain, a pincer movement of colour.

He let out an eldritch screech as the first wave of colour swept over his legs. Instantly, they went numb, as if they had never existed. The turquoise soon made its way up his leg, sucking him in.

The colour devoured his waist, before moving onto his torso. As it reached his neck and arms, the voice escaped from his throat, and his scream ended in an instant.

With the last remnants of his strengths, he grabbed onto his throat and tried to coerce the remainder of his scream out, but it did no good.

He vanished in a silent flash of turquoise, and the car followed a moment later.

Finally, the man stopped his screams. The pain stopped just as soon as it started, and he was released from it.

'Thank you.' he muttered to the voice. 'Much appreciated.'

'What is your intentions?' the voice asked, ringing in his ears.

'Here? Or in general?'

'On this planet.'

'Exploration. Investigation. Recuperation.'

'Concerning us.'

'My plans did not concern you.'

A blast of pain.

'False answers will not be tolerated.'

'You should've said that from the beginning…alright. I was curious. I saw the changes that had been made, I wanted to be sure.'

'What do you know?'

'What do I know? Depends on the day.'

'What do you know?!'

'A perfect number is equal to the sum of its proper positive divisors-'

'Answer.'

'The only way of discovering the limits of the possible to venture a little way past them into the impossible-'

'Answer.'

'Every action has an equal and opposite reaction-'

'Answer!'

A tsunami of crippling torment sprinted through the man's body, causing his skin to ripple and blood to fry.

'I know you who are!' he shouted, between tortured gasps of faint relief. 'And I know that you must be stopped!'

The pain stopped. The silence hung in the air, painting over the tension. Inhaling gently and, most importantly, quietly, the man waited for the reply.

'Thank you.' the voice said, before the rush of pain started up again.

The man thrashed about as much as he could, but the restraints held him in place. The violent juddering tried to break free, but it could not. His arteries began to pulsate and throb under the stress, his heartbeat working overtime and then some. His lungs went on strike, refusing to supply any more breath than was needed, and he was incapable of meaningful or deep breaths, just the shallow gasps of a doomed soul.

'No…' whispered the voice, muffled almost completely by the pain. 'Not yet…'

The man was aware of something happened, of a shifting occurring all around him, like the area around him was changing to fit someone else. And then, a second presence was beside him, or behind him, or in front of him. Or more accurately, all at once. It wasn't the vague omnipresent of the voice, but a certain aura of a person.

'Where am I?!' it bleated, terrified and distressed. 'Is anyone there?!'

'Don't worry…' the man said, his voice far more relaxed than it was a moment ago. 'You'll be quite alright.'

'You shall cease.' the voice answered, and a jolt of pain shot through the man.

But he didn't react. There was no screaming, no moaning, no outward signs of agony. Just the bored sighing filling the void.

'Something wrong?' he asked, starting to smile a little. 'Anything I can help with?'

'What's happening?' the newcomer asked, trying to find the man in the nothingness. 'Who are you?'

'Well, I'm quite a few people.' the man replied. 'But mostly, I'm known as the Doctor.'

The voice snarled in the darkness, howling at the man.

'Cease!'

'Oh? And why's that? Don't you want your prrrrisoners talking amongst themselves? Or are you just afraid they'll outsmart you?'

Another thrash of burning was sent through the Doctor – he started to yawn.

'I don't think that's going to work.' he said. 'Once you work out one trick, the others are a piece of cake.'

'Then what about your…fellow prisoner?'

The newcomer started screaming. His cries rang through the Doctor's ears, working their way in like a Tunvarian earworm.

'Ignore it!' the Doctor shouted to the captive. 'Pretend it's not happening!'

'What?!'

'Pretend it's not happening! It's just a dream!'

A few seconds later, the screams shifted into tentative pants of reprieve.

'What happened?'

'Simple psychosomatic pain stimulation.' the Doctor replied. 'Making you believe you're in pain when there's none there. Once you start doubting the dream, you start waking up.'

'That…makes no sense.'

'Welcome to the party.' the Doctor grinned. Then he turned his attention to the voice: 'Sorry if I caused any trouble…probably wondering how I did it, aren't you? Or, more importantly, why. A rather well-known trick on this planet…I believe it's known as 'playing dead.'

'What?' the voice boomed.

'Because you see, whilst you have been trying to torture me with, well, tickles, you've lowered the psychic defences, let your guard slip down, so to speak. If I concentrate hard enough…'

The voice started to growl, an animalistic cry of pain.

'…then I should be able…' the Doctor muttered, through gritted teeth. '…to take control!'

The voice vanished into the background¸ muffled by every decibel of the Doctor's voice, breath, movement.

'That's better.' he grinned, wiping his hands together. 'Now, let's see if we can't send a little message to the outside world…'

'I don't have long.' Mel heard the creature say with the Doctor's voice, as it stood trembling in the library. 'Soon enough, they'll realise the trick and stop me. But I can send a message or two. First of all, you'll have to run. There's no way to stop one of these once it's after you. They're nigh-on omnipotent.'

'Doctor!' she shouted, walking towards the creature.

'Two,' it continued 'You'll have to find me. Slight problem on my front – I haven't the faintest idea where I am. I can't be too far, judging by the psychic link. But hurry!'

'The guards'll be here in a second.' Lois informed Mel, peering through the door.

'And three – don't make any wishes unless I tell you to!'

The Doctor was probably about to explain his final point, but something cut him off. The creature started to throb, and the large orb split once again into six smaller ones.

'Doctor?' Mel asked warily, stepping back from the blob for a second.

As the six orbs settled, Mel took a closer look – they were moving again, only slightly.

A hand grabbed her shoulder and shoved her out of the way, throwing her across the floor. As she cried out and turned back, she saw one of the guards stood where she was just a moment ago.

His skin was effulgent, radiant as he backed into the lift-shaft, and his face was twisted into a barely-contained mask of agony.

'What…what's happening?' Mel asked quietly, as she made her way behind the creature. None of the others responded – instead, they simply stared at the spectacle in equal parts amazement, curiosity and horror.

The guard started to squirm, collapsing to the floor. His gun clattered beside him, now completely useless. The group watched on as he started to glow, like a fire was raging inside of him.

With the last morsel of strength, he reached for the lever and pulled on it. The two doors started to slide shut, separating the group from the light inside. As they clicked shut, the guard's screams reflected around the library, before ending up in the creature. A seventh orb appeared inside it.

'I think we should, er…' Mel started, transfixed by the creature. 'We should…run!'

The group turned on their heels around headed out of the door, the creature in hot pursuit. It scuttled after them, passing through the wall in a mess of green mist.