Written on October 22, 2012
Chapter 1
Walking through town was nothing new to Mary. She would often wander aimlessly throughout the winding jungle that was London. So often, in fact, that she knew its twisting streets like she knew her own apartment. Which was to say, really, really well. As Mary walked along the snow-covered roadway, she was incredibly aware of her surroundings. She noticed everything that happened around her. People talking on cell phones in their distinctive London accents. People laughing. Window shopping. Probably looking for an adequate Christmas present for a loved one.
As people crunched their way through the snowy streets, Mary was aware that her brain was processing information from her senses faster than she could comprehend. This is why, as soon as it was there to hear, her brain heard it. It was a strange grinding, whirring sound, that Mary had heard only once before. She had never discovered what had made the sound, which is why she tried to make her way to where the sound was as quickly and nonchalantly as she possibly could.
It was as if no one else even heard the sound. Perhaps they just didn’t think much of it, like the first time Mary heard it.
As Mary rounded a corner into a dark alleyway, the sound stopped with a final, decisive thump, like the closing of a heavy door. The sound didn’t come from nowhere, though; Mary noticed, in the middle of the dark alley, a rather misplaced-looking police box. It was as though her eyes didn’t want to see it, but it was there. Just an ordinary wooden, blue-painted police box.
Did I mention earlier that Mary knew the city like her own apartment? She did. And she knew that there had never been a police box here. There didn’t need to be one here, so it wasn’t just new; there was another a few blocks away. So what was it doing here? Just as she walked up and was about to open the door, she didn’t have to. The old wooden door creaked open and a rather formally-dressed man stepped out.
“Oh, hello! I’m sorry, bad memory; what year is it?” inquired the man. He was not exactly dressed for the snowy weather. He wore a beige trench coat to his ankles, which were covered by the tops of black Converse and the bottoms of a pair of blue trousers, which matched the blue suit jacket that covered the majority of the matching tie.
“Two thousand thirteen. Christmas Eve. Not that I mean to be nosy, but… Who are you?” answered Mary.
“I’m the Doctor,” replied the man. He didn’t sound sarcastic or teasing; he sounded completely serious.
Mary wasn’t satisfied with the man’s unspecific answer, but she let it be. She didn’t want to seem like a creep. “So, Doctor, what’s that police box doing here?”
“Resting. She’s been through a lot lately,” remarked the Doctor. Again, he maintained a steady tone and a straight face.
“Is that supposed to be a joke?”
“Nope,” answered the Doctor, as he began to walk out onto the white-blanketed, busy street. He didn’t seem bothered by the frigid air. “Ah, Christmas! My favorite time of year.”
Mary followed the Doctor. She didn’t know what to think. Was this guy a joke? He didn’t seem like the joking type. And what about the police box that wasn’t supposed to be there? Mary decided to follow the man until she got an answer.
Out on the street, the Doctor stopped and took a look around. Mary was doing the same, and was bothered by his intent staring at a winged statue. No, thought Mary, not any winged statue. That winged statue had been covering its eyes earlier. Weeping.
The Doctor muttered something inaudible.
“Pardon?” asked Mary.
“Weeping angels,” clarified the Doctor. Mary didn’t know what he meant by that, but she didn’t bother to inquire further. “Just don’t blink.”
As the Doctor moved on, Mary watched the angel for a few moments longer before turning away and following the Doctor. She couldn’t help but turn back and see the angel smiling at her.
Chapter 2
“It isn’t much, but it’s home,” remarked Mary.
“It’s got a nice view,” said the Doctor, looking out the window in the living room. He was looking intently through the blizzard, trying to spot any more Weeping Angels. After all, that was what he had come for.
“So what are Weeping Angels?” Mary inquired.
“… One of the oldest species known,” answered the Doctor. “They feed off the time energy created when they send their victims back in time.”
“You mean they move? But they’re just… statues.”
“Not just statues. It’s a defense system. The best in the universe. Whenever someone looks at them, they literally turn to stone. And they’re incredibly fast, so don’t blink,” replied the Doctor.
“Moving statues. Okay then. Is that why you’re here?”
“Nah. I’m here for much more important reasons than moving statues.”
“Those reasons being?”
“Maybe you’ll find out. I have to go somewhere, actually. Would you have a car I can borrow?”
“Only if I can come with you.”
********
Ice cracked beneath their feet as the Doctor and Mary stepped out of the car.
“Well. Allons-y!” Remarked the Doctor, as he crunched his way to the front steps of the old, broken-down house. Visible through the windows were dozens of Weeping Angels.
Mary hesitated before she followed him.
At the front door, the Doctor turned around and faced Mary.
“Ready?” asked the Doctor.
“Why are we here, anyway?”
“We’re looking for a key on a necklace. It’s dangerous, but it’s really important… Basically, if we don’t find it, I’ll sort of.. disappear. So we really need to find it.” The Doctor turned around and began to open the door, but Mary stopped him.
“Doctor.. Don’t blink,” she reminded him with a smile. And with that, he opened the door to find at least half a dozen angels surrounding it.
“Stay calm!” exclaimed the Doctor, “Stay calm, just don’t take your eyes off them.” He began to walk slowly past them, not looking away from them all the while. Mary, being new to these creatures, couldn’t have taken her eyes off them if she wanted to. They were all covering their eyes, weeping.
“Why do they do that?” asked Mary.
“Do what?”
“Cover their eyes?”
“They can’t risk looking at each other. Their greatest asset is their greatest curse,” answered the Doctor. He inched his way up the staircase that stood just past the angels.
Mary’s eyes were becoming dry. It was unbearable. She had to blink. When she opened here eyes, she screamed. The angels had come at least a meter closer and their mouths and eyes were wide open, teeth and claws out. The Doctor was upstairs by then.
“Mary?!” called the Doctor.
“I’m still here!”
“Don’t let them grab you! They’ll send you back in time!”
“I’ll do my best,” Mary mumbled. Her voice was not as steady as she had hoped. She ducked beneath the arms of the angels, trying to keep her eyes on them at the same time, as she backed her way toward the stairs. Out of the corner of her eye she could see more angels at the top of the staircase. Mary had to take her eyes off of the ones by the door in order to sprint up the unstable wooden stairs.
She had to find the Doctor. “Doctor?”
“Yes, I’m in here. Wait, why aren’t you watching the angels downstairs?”
“I think they’re busy watching the ones up here,” it was true; the angels were watching each other; they would be stone forever.
Walking through town was nothing new to Mary. She would often wander aimlessly throughout the winding jungle that was London. So often, in fact, that she knew its twisting streets like she knew her own apartment. Which was to say, really, really well. As Mary walked along the snow-covered roadway, she was incredibly aware of her surroundings. She noticed everything that happened around her. People talking on cell phones in their distinctive London accents. People laughing. Window shopping. Probably looking for an adequate Christmas present for a loved one.
As people crunched their way through the snowy streets, Mary was aware that her brain was processing information from her senses faster than she could comprehend. This is why, as soon as it was there to hear, her brain heard it. It was a strange grinding, whirring sound, that Mary had heard only once before. She had never discovered what had made the sound, which is why she tried to make her way to where the sound was as quickly and nonchalantly as she possibly could.
It was as if no one else even heard the sound. Perhaps they just didn’t think much of it, like the first time Mary heard it.
As Mary rounded a corner into a dark alleyway, the sound stopped with a final, decisive thump, like the closing of a heavy door. The sound didn’t come from nowhere, though; Mary noticed, in the middle of the dark alley, a rather misplaced-looking police box. It was as though her eyes didn’t want to see it, but it was there. Just an ordinary wooden, blue-painted police box.
Did I mention earlier that Mary knew the city like her own apartment? She did. And she knew that there had never been a police box here. There didn’t need to be one here, so it wasn’t just new; there was another a few blocks away. So what was it doing here? Just as she walked up and was about to open the door, she didn’t have to. The old wooden door creaked open and a rather formally-dressed man stepped out.
“Oh, hello! I’m sorry, bad memory; what year is it?” inquired the man. He was not exactly dressed for the snowy weather. He wore a beige trench coat to his ankles, which were covered by the tops of black Converse and the bottoms of a pair of blue trousers, which matched the blue suit jacket that covered the majority of the matching tie.
“Two thousand thirteen. Christmas Eve. Not that I mean to be nosy, but… Who are you?” answered Mary.
“I’m the Doctor,” replied the man. He didn’t sound sarcastic or teasing; he sounded completely serious.
Mary wasn’t satisfied with the man’s unspecific answer, but she let it be. She didn’t want to seem like a creep. “So, Doctor, what’s that police box doing here?”
“Resting. She’s been through a lot lately,” remarked the Doctor. Again, he maintained a steady tone and a straight face.
“Is that supposed to be a joke?”
“Nope,” answered the Doctor, as he began to walk out onto the white-blanketed, busy street. He didn’t seem bothered by the frigid air. “Ah, Christmas! My favorite time of year.”
Mary followed the Doctor. She didn’t know what to think. Was this guy a joke? He didn’t seem like the joking type. And what about the police box that wasn’t supposed to be there? Mary decided to follow the man until she got an answer.
Out on the street, the Doctor stopped and took a look around. Mary was doing the same, and was bothered by his intent staring at a winged statue. No, thought Mary, not any winged statue. That winged statue had been covering its eyes earlier. Weeping.
The Doctor muttered something inaudible.
“Pardon?” asked Mary.
“Weeping angels,” clarified the Doctor. Mary didn’t know what he meant by that, but she didn’t bother to inquire further. “Just don’t blink.”
As the Doctor moved on, Mary watched the angel for a few moments longer before turning away and following the Doctor. She couldn’t help but turn back and see the angel smiling at her.
Chapter 2
“It isn’t much, but it’s home,” remarked Mary.
“It’s got a nice view,” said the Doctor, looking out the window in the living room. He was looking intently through the blizzard, trying to spot any more Weeping Angels. After all, that was what he had come for.
“So what are Weeping Angels?” Mary inquired.
“… One of the oldest species known,” answered the Doctor. “They feed off the time energy created when they send their victims back in time.”
“You mean they move? But they’re just… statues.”
“Not just statues. It’s a defense system. The best in the universe. Whenever someone looks at them, they literally turn to stone. And they’re incredibly fast, so don’t blink,” replied the Doctor.
“Moving statues. Okay then. Is that why you’re here?”
“Nah. I’m here for much more important reasons than moving statues.”
“Those reasons being?”
“Maybe you’ll find out. I have to go somewhere, actually. Would you have a car I can borrow?”
“Only if I can come with you.”
********
Ice cracked beneath their feet as the Doctor and Mary stepped out of the car.
“Well. Allons-y!” Remarked the Doctor, as he crunched his way to the front steps of the old, broken-down house. Visible through the windows were dozens of Weeping Angels.
Mary hesitated before she followed him.
At the front door, the Doctor turned around and faced Mary.
“Ready?” asked the Doctor.
“Why are we here, anyway?”
“We’re looking for a key on a necklace. It’s dangerous, but it’s really important… Basically, if we don’t find it, I’ll sort of.. disappear. So we really need to find it.” The Doctor turned around and began to open the door, but Mary stopped him.
“Doctor.. Don’t blink,” she reminded him with a smile. And with that, he opened the door to find at least half a dozen angels surrounding it.
“Stay calm!” exclaimed the Doctor, “Stay calm, just don’t take your eyes off them.” He began to walk slowly past them, not looking away from them all the while. Mary, being new to these creatures, couldn’t have taken her eyes off them if she wanted to. They were all covering their eyes, weeping.
“Why do they do that?” asked Mary.
“Do what?”
“Cover their eyes?”
“They can’t risk looking at each other. Their greatest asset is their greatest curse,” answered the Doctor. He inched his way up the staircase that stood just past the angels.
Mary’s eyes were becoming dry. It was unbearable. She had to blink. When she opened here eyes, she screamed. The angels had come at least a meter closer and their mouths and eyes were wide open, teeth and claws out. The Doctor was upstairs by then.
“Mary?!” called the Doctor.
“I’m still here!”
“Don’t let them grab you! They’ll send you back in time!”
“I’ll do my best,” Mary mumbled. Her voice was not as steady as she had hoped. She ducked beneath the arms of the angels, trying to keep her eyes on them at the same time, as she backed her way toward the stairs. Out of the corner of her eye she could see more angels at the top of the staircase. Mary had to take her eyes off of the ones by the door in order to sprint up the unstable wooden stairs.
She had to find the Doctor. “Doctor?”
“Yes, I’m in here. Wait, why aren’t you watching the angels downstairs?”
“I think they’re busy watching the ones up here,” it was true; the angels were watching each other; they would be stone forever.