Tales of Terror

by Jacqueline Rayner, Mike Tucker, Paul Magrs, et al (retail) (epub)

  As Donna took her first horrified look at the three members of the Family of Blood, they, as one, fixed their cold eyes upon her. All three inhaled vigorously through flaring nostrils. In uncanny synchronisation, they tilted their heads sharply to one side, appraising her malevolently.

  The human unlucky enough to host the Father was a thickset middle-aged man with a large, bushy moustache. He wore the tweed jacket, waistcoat and breeches of an Edwardian gentleman farmer. The Son looked like he had stepped out of the same period drama. He had stolen the form of a tall, dark-haired, arrogant-looking young man in the smart wing-collared uniform of a public-school boy. There was a hint of madness in his fixed smirk and widened eyes.

  But it was the Daughter who, despite being the youngest and smallest, had the aura of command. She stood slightly forward of the other two, who flanked her like henchmen. Balloon apart, she did not, Donna saw to her surprise, look like the little girl she had spied in her mirror.

  ‘Got yourself a fresh body, eh?’ growled the Doctor, eyes narrowed. ‘What about your last host? Young Lucy Cartwright?’

  ‘Expended.’ There was no hint of remorse in the Daughter’s reply. ‘These human shapes are very fragile.’ Her superior tone was wholly un-childlike. ‘They do not sustain us for long.’ She smiled a malicious smile. ‘I have changed in many other ways, too, Doctor, since we last met.’

  ‘So I see. Head of the Family now, are we?’

  The Daughter did not reply – only extended her free hand. A crackling bolt of blazing white light burst from her fingertips. It hit the Doctor square in the chest. He sprawled on to the floor of the tunnel. His sonic screwdriver skittered away into the shadows.

  ‘Doctor!’

  As Donna crouched over him, the Doctor stirred feebly. He was badly stunned, but alive.

  The Daughter stepped forward, keeping her hand trained on the Doctor. Donna turned on her, trying to suppress her terror. ‘Any nearer, missy, and I’ll … I’ll … pop your balloon!’

  ‘Brother of Mine! Father of Mine!’ snapped the Daughter. ‘Bind them!’

  Donna dared not resist as the Son and Father obediently advanced, manhandled her and the semi-conscious Doctor into a back-to-back position, and bound them tightly with the heavy star-forged chain. She recoiled as the Daughter let loose another energy blast – but its aim was precise. It fused the severed link of the chain into an unbreakable whole once more.

  ‘Telekinetic hadron excitation,’ murmured the Doctor, beginning to recover. ‘Impressive. Where’d you learn that little party trick?’

  ‘Thanks to you, Doctor, I have acquired many new powers.’ The Daughter smirked. ‘By locking me away, you set me free.’ She moved to stand over him. ‘I have watched, alone, from every mirror in existence, across all time – as you decreed I must,’ she said bitterly. ‘From the looking-glass of the Prime Imperator; from the mercury mirror-pool of an Ulgron arch-mage; from the blood-polished obsidian of a Ch’Sok spirit-glass; from the mirrored walls of the great Sanctum of Reflection; from –’

  ‘Yada-yada. From a lot of mirrors,’ the Doctor interrupted, scowling. ‘We get the picture.’

  The Daughter glowered back at him. ‘Infinite mirrors, offering windows on countless worlds,’ she hissed. ‘An eternity in an instant to watch – and learn.’ Her eyes shone. ‘I learned how to escape my prison. And in the moment of my release, while I still existed across all time, I sent a psychic cry into the Vortex –’ her mouth curled nastily again – ‘and brought you running, Doctor, just as I’d planned.’

  The Doctor held her vengeful stare. His strength was returning, his eyes filling with contained fury. ‘So – which of you gets the big prize, eh? A Time Lord’s lifespan. Or do I get to host the whole Family?’

  It was the Son who answered this time – in a manic, mocking tone.

  ‘Oh, dear, sir! No, sir! You mistake our intentions, sir!’

  ‘We no longer need your shape, Time Lord,’ snarled the burly Father.

  ‘Through my watching,’ the Daughter continued, ‘I have seen more … desirable hosts. Creatures of the Vortex that can offer us eternal life,’ she sneered. ‘For you are mortal, Doctor. I have watched you die – many times.’ She turned her chilling gaze on Donna. ‘And seen this one’s futures, too. The part she might play, at the End –’

  Donna frowned. ‘What end?’

  ‘– were it not that we have determined a different destiny for you both.’

  The Daughter turned expectantly to the Son. ‘Do you have it, Brother of Mine?’

  ‘Yes, Sister of Mine. I have it here.’

  He gleefully produced and displayed a familiar brass door key.

  ‘Doctor!’ cried Donna. ‘The TARDIS key!’

  The Son had evidently picked the stricken Doctor’s suit pocket at the same time as binding him. He smirked tauntingly at his victim. ‘You, sir, and your feeble human friend –’

  Donna bridled. ‘I’ll feeble you, you stuck-up –’

  ‘– will share the fate, sir, that you so cleverly devised for Father of Mine.’

  ‘You’ll rot here,’ growled the Father. ‘Slowly. Bound in the darkness.’

  ‘While we, sir, will use your grubby little Vortex craft to liberate the last member of our Family –’

  ‘And pursue our prey at will!’ crowed the Daughter. With a sudden jerk of the neck, she threw back her head. Her upturned face glowed with a sickly green light as she voiced her wild psychic cry.

  ‘We come, Mother of Mine!’

  She cast a final, triumphant leer at the Doctor, then turned and led her family away, taking the balloon’s crimson light with them.

  Left in total darkness, bound so tightly it was hard to breathe, Donna struggled to keep panic at bay.

  ‘What now, Doctor? What do we do?’

  The light-hearted tone of the Doctor’s reply threw her completely. ‘How about that game of I Spy?’

  Donna really couldn’t see a funny side to their present predicament. ‘Hilarious,’ she hissed. ‘Just to be clear, this is not my idea of a jolly lark. I’m not crazy about seeing out my days at the bottom of a miserable pit!’

  ‘I’ve seen worse spots. Mulphlux Four, for instance. Now that really is –’

  ‘Doctor!’ Donna was baffled by his sudden lack of urgency. What had got into him? She felt a pang of dread. Had he given up? He never gave up … did he? ‘We can’t let the Family get away! “War across the stars”, you said. We have to stop them!’

  She felt the Doctor’s body wriggle, heard him utter a soft grunt. The pressure of his back against hers released.

  ‘Doctor?’

  There was silence for a few heartbeats – then a familiar buzzing sound. Blue light blossomed in the darkness, and Donna found that the Doctor was now standing over her. His face, lit by the glow of his recovered sonic screwdriver, wore a steely expression.

  ‘Oh, I’ll stop them, Donna, don’t you worry.’

  Donna gawped. ‘How did you …?’

  ‘A little technique Harry Houdini taught me.’ The Doctor began loosening the chain looped round her. ‘I might not have spent eternity eavesdropping –’ he helped her free of the heavy coils – ‘but you don’t live to be nine hundred without picking up a trick or two.’

  Donna looked at him expectantly. He seemed in no hurry to move.

  ‘Well?’ she prompted. ‘Shouldn’t we get after them?’

  ‘All in good time,’ said the Doctor. ‘Let’s give them a decent head start.’

  Donna stared at him, flummoxed. ‘But … what about the TARDIS?’

  The Doctor smiled slyly, a glint in his dark eyes.

  ‘It’s her I’m counting on.’

  Donna stepped gingerly over the Father’s tweed-clad bulk. He was lying flat on his face, out cold, at the upper end of the TARDIS’s entrance ramp.

  The Doctor, a few strides ahead, was negotiating a similar obstacle: the body of the Son’s human host, sprawled out on the console platform.

/>   The Daughter was nowhere to be seen.

  Donna scanned around anxiously, expecting to be frazzled by an energy blast at any moment. Then –

  BANG!

  A shred of bright red rubber, with a length of string attached – all that remained of the balloon that had just popped against the vaulted ceiling – came drifting limply down to land behind the console. The Doctor quickly ducked after it.

  ‘All clear, Donna!’ he called. ‘She’s here!’

  Donna hurried to where the Doctor crouched beside the unmoving form of the little girl in yellow.

  ‘What happened to her? To all of them?’

  ‘They’ve been rendered unconscious.’

  ‘I can see that! But how?’

  Delving under a floor grille, the Doctor quickly withdrew something from the storage area and held it out to Donna. ‘Here. Take this.’ It was an empty glass bottle labelled Zordn’s Original Astralberry Schnapps. ‘It’s already contained one evil spirit …’

  Kneeling over the girl, he gently pushed back her lower jaw, then held his sonic screwdriver close to her face.

  ‘The TARDIS’s databank includes all the Family’s psychic profiles,’ he told Donna, in answer to her question. ‘They’re still on the primary system, from when I called up the archive earlier.’ Slowly, he drew a thin wisp of luminous green vapour from the child’s open mouth. It hung limply from the screwdriver’s buzzing tip. ‘The moment they mind-spoke to one another, the old girl’s telepathic circuits would have tuned in. Matched the profiles. Recognised them as known enemies – key or no key.’

  ‘So … the TARDIS took out all three of them?’

  The Doctor gestured for the schnapps bottle. As Donna held it steady, he lowered the dangling gaseous strand into it. ‘She knows how to handle herself,’ he said proudly. ‘And, with surprise on her side, she’ll have given them a nasty shock. Literally.’

  He deactivated his sonic screwdriver. Taking the bottle, he capped it, then held it up in front of Donna’s fascinated gaze. The gaseous green entity within was beginning to stir, swirling restlessly.

  ‘Animal, vegetable or mineral, would you say?’

  Donna gave the Doctor a look. ‘Okay. Point taken.’

  She eyed the bottle warily as he put it aside.

  ‘Will that hold her? With all those new powers she was bragging about?’

  ‘Powers schmowers,’ replied the Doctor dismissively. ‘Without a host, she has no corporeal agent to exercise them.’

  He turned his attention to the unconscious child. As he scanned for life signs, Donna looked on in concern.

  ‘Is she …?’

  ‘She’ll be fine. She’s a lucky girl. She didn’t serve as a host long enough to sustain any permanent neural damage.’ The Doctor removed his pinstriped jacket, folded it, and slid it gently under the girl’s head. He stood up. ‘Just needs to sleep it off. Then we’ll get her home.’

  He glanced at the other two bodies lying nearby, then at the schnapps bottle. ‘In the meantime, we should tidy up around here.’

  ‘What are you going to do with them?’

  Moving to the console, the Doctor reached for the flight controls.

  ‘Perhaps I was a little harsh, consigning them to solitary confinement. They did seem awfully keen to see Mother.’ The TARDIS’s doors slammed shut. ‘I thought we might drop them off at her place.’ The time rotor stirred into motion. ‘Of course, with “her place” being the event horizon of a collapsing galaxy, they won’t ever be able to leave again …’

  As the thrum of dematerialisation filled the console room, the Doctor flashed a wicked, bright-eyed grin at Donna.

  ‘But it’s good for family to spend time together.’

  As holidays went, this one had been a total wash-out. From start to finish, the Martin family’s camping trip had been ruined by rain. And not just one type of rain, but every sort of rain from light, sticky drizzle that coated every surface with perfect pinpricks of water to heavy slugs of rain that clumsily shook the tent. Now, all five of the Martins were on their way home, finally getting warm and dry in their old car.

  ‘At least it’s stopped raining now, chaps!’ Mr Martin said, trying to lift his family’s spirits.

  Mrs Martin took her eyes off the road for a second, with just enough time to give her husband a stern look. She then went back to steering the car down the gravel track. Wherever they were driving through now was grey and quiet. The storm they had experienced earlier had passed. No more low growls of thunder or vicious scratches of lightning.

  ‘I’m just saying.’ Mr Martin was clutching at straws. ‘Despite the constant wet weather and the flooding and the drizzle, we had a great time. Right, guys?’

  In the back of the car, Evan shook his head.

  Pip, his little brother, who was squashed in the middle seat between his big brother and sister, shook his head too. Evan was eleven and Pip was seven, and Pip copied everything his big brother did.

  Their big sister, Roxy, kept her headphones on and her hood up and tried to block out everything. She thought camping was the uncoolest thing possible. But camping in the rain was just crazy. Hadn’t her family heard of hotels?

  Evan hadn’t been troubled by the rainy holiday, but something else was bothering him and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Something felt wrong. Like if you put a jumper on backwards, or remember you’ve forgotten to do your homework, or know you’re about to be told off for breaking that purple vase in the kitchen even though it was totally an accident.

  Then he spotted something in the sky above. A blue box. It was spinning quickly across the grey sky.

  Evan jumped up in surprise and then ducked down to get a view through the car window. ‘I just saw something … in the sky!’

  ‘It was probably a seagull or something,’ Mrs Martin said.

  ‘It wasn’t a seagull! It was like a blue box … spinning in the air, really fast.’

  ‘You’ve been reading too many comics, Evan. You’re always looking for adventure!’ his mum replied wearily.

  Evan sat back. He knew what he had seen. And there was no such thing as reading too many comics. The problem was quite the opposite – not reading enough comics. And looking for adventure? Well, everyone should be doing that, shouldn’t they?

  ‘I believe you!’ Pip said, grinning at his big brother.

  Roxy rolled her eyes at Evan. She loved winding her brothers up.

  ‘Is this new, love?’ Mr Martin asked quietly, pointing to the winding path ahead of them.

  ‘Shhhh, I’m driving,’ Mrs Martin warned, concentrating on the loose gravel road.

  ‘I’m just saying it’s new,’ Mr Martin protested.

  ‘I’m following the diversions. I don’t just make up routes, like some people I could mention.’

  Evan wiped the condensation off the window and continued looking outside. He desperately wanted to see that spinning blue box again.

  The family’s car was making its way through a dramatic valley that looked like a giant had taken an axe and cut a V-shape from the mountains. The road twisted round a slanting patchwork of bright green fields that were separated by dark, leafy bushes and trees. Some lengths of the road may have been safe and flat, but ahead there were sections where the side of the road became a steep drop into a gully of boulders and brown shrubs.

  Mrs Martin slowed the car down and pulled over.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Evan asked.

  ‘Yeah, Mum, what are you doing?’ Pip echoed.

  ‘There’s a car stopped up there. I’m just going to see if they need help.’ Mrs Martin jumped out of the car and made her way towards a small blue car that seemed to be abandoned on the side of the road. Its lights were on and the door was left open. Mrs Martin leaned inside, looking around.

  ‘Dad, go with her!’ Roxy ordered.

  ‘I’m no car expert like your mother is!’ Mr Martin raised both hands in protest.

  ‘Well, go in case there are weirdos
about!’ Roxy insisted.

  Mr Martin was just about to open the car door when Mrs Martin came and got back into the driver’s seat.

  ‘Nothing,’ Mrs Martin said, as she put her seatbelt on. ‘There’s no one there. Not a trace. They’ve left their lights on and everything.’

  Mr Martin looked at his phone. ‘Anyone got a signal? We should probably call someone just in case they’ve gone to get help and got lost.’

  ‘Is someone in danger?’ Pip asked.

  ‘No, no, no. We’re just checking in case someone needs help,’ Mr Martin chirped.

  Evan was suspicious. His dad was trying to reassure them, and that just made Evan more worried. And, when Evan became worried, Pip became worried too.

  Everyone checked their phones – apart from Pip, who didn’t have one. Nobody had a signal.

  ‘We’ll try when we’re out of the valley. Must be because we’re so low, you know?’ Mr Martin said, still trying to sound calm and collected but fooling nobody.

  No one said anything, but they all thought things were distinctly creepy.

  The valley was becoming darker. A purple haze had filled the air and the greens and greys of the fields and rocks changed colour into something other-worldly. There was a certain static in the air. Mr Martin could always tell when a storm was brewing – something to do with pressures and temperatures and fly bites and curling leaves. But this felt … artificial somehow. Too warm. Too dry.

  Mrs Martin carried on driving. Everyone was silent and alert. The purple haze was becoming stronger and thicker. It was so subtle and slow that it could have been perfectly natural – a rare phenomenon that occurred in the lowest part of a valley. Something that could be ignored. But it was so bizarre that it was impossible to ignore.

  ‘What is it?’ Evan asked.

  ‘What is it?’ Pip echoed.

  ‘I don’t know, love. Mist? Fog? I’ve never seen anything like it,’ Mr Martin said distractedly. ‘There has been an awful lot of wet weather recently. It could just be the after-effects of that …’

  Roxy chewed nervously on one end of the drawstring on her hoodie. Something was definitely up.