Doctor Who BBCN10 - The Nightmare of Black Island

by Doctor Who

  Before Rose had a chance to answer the Doctor darted round the console, spinning wheels and pumping energetically at some of the TARDIS’s more jerry-rigged controls.

  With a grind of ancient engines, the TARDIS started to turn, and Rose realised with a thrill of terror that quite possibly she was about to confront the creature from her nightmare.

  9

  The moon gleamed fitfully through the long fingers of cloud that scudded across its face, sending sparkling highlights flickering over the foaming waves. The storm that had whipped the ocean into such a frenzy was far away now, the rumble of thunder just a distant boom over the hills, the lightning a faint glow occasionally illuminating the sky.

  A new sound joined the rhythmic hiss of waves on shingle, a rasping, grinding noise, rising and falling in pitch, building in volume until, with a loud thump, the TARDIS appeared from nowhere on the cliff top, incongruous among the windswept gorse.

  With a rattling of the latch, the door swung inwards and the Doctor stepped out into the cold night air, coat billowing in the wind. Rose emerged tentatively after him, looking around nervously.

  The Doctor spread his arms wide and took a long, deep breath.

  ‘Come on, Rose. Get a good lungful of that fresh sea air.’

  Rose pulled her parka tight around her. ‘You’ll get a great lungful of fresh sea water if you’re not careful. It’s freezing out here!’

  ‘It’s a bit fresh, I’ll admit.’ He twirled, fixing her with a piercing gaze. ‘Is this the place?’

  11

  Rose nodded, stepping closer to his side and shivering. ‘Yeah. It is.

  The same as I saw in my dream. It’s weird.’

  ‘Marvellous!’ The Doctor smiled happily, pulling the TARDIS key from his pocket and locking the police box door.

  Rose turned slowly around. Everything was horribly familiar. The tall, jagged cliffs, the brooding sky. Along the coast she could see the lights from the village, tucked into the curve of the bay, a tiny harbour jutting out into the cold grey sea.

  A noise made her jump, a long wail, drawn out and plaintive. On the next headland over she could see the lights of a lonely farmhouse, a trail of smoke whipped from its chimney by the driving wind.

  She caught the Doctor by the arm. ‘Listen.’

  The Doctor turned from the TARDIS, head cocked to one side. The sound came again, high-pitched and almost cat-like, cutting through the sound of the wind.

  Rose felt goosebumps run down her spine. ‘It’s a baby. Poor thing sounds terrified.’

  ‘It’s not happy, certainly.’ The Doctor pulled a pair of opera glasses from his coat and peered at the lights blazing from the distant farm buildings. ‘And keeping the house awake by the look of things.’

  ‘Where are we exactly?’ Rose asked.

  ‘Wales, according to the instruments.’ The Doctor swung his gaze out towards the horizon. ‘West coast, just along from Tenby, I think.

  Village called Ynys Du.’

  ‘Come again?’

  ‘Black Island. Not the kind of place you usually find ravening four-armed creatures, I must admit, but probably very good for sea bass.

  Ah. . . ’

  ‘What is it?’

  The Doctor nodded out to sea. ‘Your mysterious lighthouse?’

  Rose followed his gaze. The racing clouds cleared from the moon for a moment and she could make out the tall, slender shape rising from the jagged mound of black rock in the bay. She shivered again, though this time not from the cold.

  ‘Yeah. That’s it.’

  12

  The Doctor adjusted a small dial on the opera glasses, peering intently at the lighthouse through the computer-enhanced lenses.

  ‘Doesn’t look as though it’s been used for years. Shame. Make a nice little home, that would. Tricky to get your milk delivered, but no problem with the neighbours.’

  ‘Great if you like fish.’

  ‘Exactly!’ He lowered the glasses and turned to her. ‘Where did you see the fisherman?’

  Rose nodded down the cliff. A well-worn path snaked through the gorse, winding its way to an untidy jumble of rocks at the water’s edge.

  ‘Down there, on the rocks.’

  The Doctor raised his opera glasses again, scanning the coast. ‘No sign of any monsters. . . Hello. . . ’

  Rose’s heart jumped. ‘What is it? Have you seen it?’

  ‘I think there’s someone there.’ The Doctor frowned. ‘Thought I caught a glimpse of someone at the shoreline.’

  ‘The creature?’

  ‘Not unless it’s taken to wearing a long white coat.’ He tucked the glasses back into his pocket. ‘Come on. Let’s take a closer look.’

  The Doctor set off down the rocky path, his own coat billowing out behind him.

  ‘Hang about!’

  Rose set off after him a little more cautiously. The rain and spray had made the path treacherous and gorse barbs tore at her clothes as she pushed her way down the narrow sheep track. By the time she reached the bottom, the hems of her jeans were streaked with mud, her trainers sodden.

  The path ended at a narrow spit of land, scrubby grass that sloped down to the sea. Huge wet boulders, flecked with foam and seaweed lay jumbled up against the shore. The Doctor was squatted on top of one of them, seemingly oblivious to the spray that swirled around him each time a wave crashed in. He was prodding at the rock with his sonic screwdriver.

  13

  He glanced up at her as she picked her way over. ‘Nothing. No sign of monster, fisherman, anything. . . ’

  ‘What about your white-coated figure?’

  ‘No.’ The Doctor pursed his lips. ‘No sign of him, or her, either.’

  ‘Well, they can’t have got past us. There’s no other way down from the cliffs and they’d be mad to take a boat out in this. You must have been seeing things.’

  The Doctor hopped down from his rock. ‘Perhaps I dreamt them.’

  ‘That’s not funny.’

  ‘Neither is this. Look.’

  The Doctor pointed at a rock pool, little more than a crevice in the wet rock. Rose raised a hand to her mouth. Among the seaweed and barnacles the pool was bright red.

  The Doctor knelt down, scanning the liquid with his screwdriver.

  Rose knelt next to him.

  ‘Is it. . . ’

  ‘Blood, yes.’ The Doctor’s face was grim. ‘There’s more here. And here.’

  Leading Rose by the hand, the Doctor followed the gruesome trail across the rocks, pool after pool filled with diluted blood.

  Their route led back from the rocks to a patch of flattened grass.

  The Doctor knelt down once more and pressed his palm to the ground.

  It came away stained a deep red. Rose stared in horror at the large dark patch that discoloured the grass.

  There’s so much of it.’

  The Doctor’s face was grim. ‘So where’s the body?’

  ‘Perhaps the thing took it back into the sea. You know. Food?’

  ‘Possibly.’

  Rose looked around. ‘No, hang about. He was a fisherman. He had bags, rods and stuff. They’ve gone too.’

  ‘Well, I can’t see our mysterious creature being an avid fishing fan somehow.’ The Doctor shook his head and wiped his hands on a patch of clean grass. ‘No. Someone has been here, cleaning up after their pet.’

  Rose looked at him in horror. ‘You don’t think –’

  14

  ‘I’m not sure what to think yet.’ He gave her a reassuring smile. ‘But we’re not going to find out anything more down here, not tonight at any rate. We should try the village. Ask around. Someone must know something.’

  ‘We’re gonna have to try and find his friends. His family. Let them know that he’s. . . ’

  That could raise some awkward questions. But yes, you’re right.

  We’ll have to do it.’ The Doctor caught her by the hand. ‘C’mon. Let’s get away from here.’

  And wit
h that the two of them started to pick their way back up the slippery path to the cliff top, Rose leading the way, pushing determinedly through the gorse, trying to avoid the signs of violence that were now so obvious all around them.

  Something made the Doctor glance back at the dark shape of the lighthouse in the bay. A glint of light caught his eye. He stopped, fumbling for the opera glasses in his pocket again, but whatever the light was it vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared.

  He frowned, unsure of what he had seen.

  ‘What is it?’

  Rose had stopped on the path ahead of him, looking back in concern.

  ‘Nothing. C’mon. We’re nearly at the top.’

  Rose shrugged and started upwards again, and after a few seconds the Doctor followed. There was something dangerous here, of that he was certain, and in retrospect wandering around wet cliff tops in the dark in pursuit of a vicious monster wasn’t the most sensible decision he had ever made. The village was the obvious place to go. Lights and people, and perhaps some answers.

  He clambered the last few steps to the top of the cliff. Rose was waiting for him, the hood of her parka pulled tight against the wind. Fat drops of rain were starting to whip in from the sea again and a clap of thunder sounded, closer now as the storm circled around for a second time.

  ‘Now where?’ Rose shouted above the wind.

  15

  The Doctor spun on his heel. A clear track led away from the cliffs towards a patch of woodland that arced down towards the village in the bay. A coastal path. Probably heaving with walkers and families when the weather was good.

  ‘This way!’

  They raced for the cover of the wood as the storm finally broke again and the wind swirled icy rain around them. They reached the tree line breathless, the Doctor’s hair plastered to his forehead.

  Rose giggled at him. ‘Why can’t you ever take us somewhere nice and warm?’

  ‘Hey!’ The Doctor looked indignant. ‘I took you to New Earth!

  Apple grass, remember?’

  ‘Yeah! Not exactly a relaxing break, though, being taken over. . . ’

  ‘The sign of a good holiday!’ He flicked the water from his fringe.

  ‘Anyway, now I’ve brought you to a nice wood. A nice wet wood.’

  ‘A nice wet, dark wood.’

  ‘Yes.’ The Doctor peered into the gloom. ‘Actually it’s more tulgy than wet. Yes. Definitely a tulgy wood.’ He set off down the leaf-strewn path. ‘Lovely word “tulgy”. Doesn’t get enough use. Very good for describing woods. . . And puddings. I’ve had some wonderfully tulgy puddings in my time.’

  Rose hurried to catch him up. ‘Tulgy puddings? What sort of restaurants have you been eating in?’

  ‘You’ve never had a tulgy pudding? Oh, you haven’t lived.’

  Rose hooked her arm through his. ‘OK, you can buy me a tulgy pudding some day.’

  The Doctor smiled at her, aware that she needed her mind taking off what she had seen on the rocks.

  ‘Done.’ The two of them set off along the path. ‘Lewis Carroll. He was an odd one. Real name was Charles Lutwidge Dodgson. Completely denied having anything to do with the Alice books. Daft as a brush. You’d have liked him! Loved inventing words. Ever read Jabberwocky? Loads of good words in there. “Tulgy”, “whiffling”,

  “galumphing”. And “burbled”. How come “burbled” gets to be in the Oxford English Dictionary but “tulgy” doesn’t? Hm?’

  16

  Before Rose could reply a low rumbling growl brought the two of them to a sudden halt.

  That wasn’t a burble,’ she whispered.

  ‘No.’

  The Doctor’s eyes darted from tree to tree. The wood was a jumble of long shadows and tangled undergrowth. The moon cast pale pools of light among the wet leaves as the clouds uncovered it for a moment, then the trees were plunged into darkness once again.

  The Doctor rummaged in his pocket and there was the harsh rasp of a match on sandpaper. Light flared, casting flickering shadows through the dripping wood.

  Rose grasped the proffered match gratefully as the Doctor lit another.

  ‘Everlasting matches?’ she asked.

  The Doctor nodded, eyes narrowing as he desperately searched for the source of the growl.

  There was a crackle of twigs and leaves as something large and unseen slowly circled them.

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got a vorpal blade tucked away in that coat of yours?’

  The Doctor gave her a brief smile. ‘Only a vorpal penknife, I’m afraid. And a blunt one at that.’

  There was another throaty rumble and Rose clutched the Doctor’s arm.

  ‘Over there!’

  The Doctor followed her gaze. A large shape crouched in the shadows of an oak tree, the light from the flickering matches gleaming in its eyes. The Doctor could count at least fourteen eyes. He reached out for Rose.

  ‘Rose, I want you to take my hand and start backing away slowly.

  Don’t run until I say “Run.”’

  The two of them started backing away from the shadowed monster.

  With a shattering roar, it broke cover, crashing through the wet leaves towards them.

  ‘Freeze!’ the Doctor hissed.

  17

  The creature was huge and grey, its face a mass of shiny black eyes and jutting fangs, the body slick with vile-smelling slime. Eight thick, fleshy tentacles sprang from the glistening body, writhing through the mulch of the woodland floor, dragging the creature forward. Dozens of huge suckers pulsed wetly on each tentacle.

  The Doctor peered at it in puzzled fascination.

  The creature

  seemed. . . wrong, somehow, thrown together, not the product of any normal evolutionary process. He took a step forward, intending to get a closer look, but Rose hauled him back frantically.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Wanted to see if I could get a better look at it, have a bit of a chat, find out what it’s doing here.’ He gave her a stern look. ‘It’s not at all like you described it. Nothing like! Wrong number of arms for starters. We’ll have to give you a few lessons in alien identification when we get back to the TARDIS.’

  ‘If we get back to the TARDIS, you mean. In case you hadn’t noticed, that thing is looking at us as if we’re lunch. Besides, it’s not the wrong number of arms because that’s not the thing I saw.’

  There was a shattering roar from behind them. The two of them spun to see another creature emerging from the shadows.

  ‘That’s the one I saw,’ said Rose.

  ‘Oh. Right-o. Sorry.’ The Doctor gave her a weak smile. ‘I think it might be time to run now.’

  Rose rolled her eyes. ‘You think?’

  ‘Run!’

  The Doctor and Rose plunged off the path, pushing through the tangle of tree roots and brambles. Branches whipped at their faces, catching on their clothes. Behind them they could hear the frustrated roars of the creatures and the sound of trees crashing to the floor as the two monsters tried to tear their way through in pursuit.

  ‘They’re too big to follow us in here!’ shouted the Doctor. ‘Keep to where the wood is dense!’

  The two of them struggled forward, ducking under fallen trees, scrambling up muddy banks. Finally they stumbled into a small clearing and the Doctor waved at Rose to stop.

  18

  ‘Slow down. I think we’ve lost them.’

  Rose slumped against a tree, breathing hard. She tilted her head back, letting raindrops from the leaves splash on to her face.

  ‘I’ll tell you one thing. Being with you keeps a girl fit.’

  The Doctor beamed breathlessly at her. ‘Fun to be with and good for you. Gotta be just what the doctor ordered.’

  ‘What were those things?’

  ‘Dunno. Nothing I’ve ever seen before.’

  ‘Something you don’t know. . . I knew there had to be something.’

  ‘It happens occasionally. Tell you what I do know,
though. . . ’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘We’re nearly out of the woods.’

  He nodded through the trees. Ahead of them, about 200 metres away, yellow light glowed warmly.

  ‘Street lamps?’

  The Doctor nodded.

  ‘Civilisation, of a sort.’

  Rose smiled, then froze. The rain splashing on to her face had suddenly got warm. And thick.

  She wiped a hand across her face and saw strands of sticky slime trailing from her fingers. She looked up in disgust. And screamed.

  A huge centipede loomed over her, hanging from an overhead branch.

  It must have been over two metres long, its thick body bristling with hairs and thick slime dripping from razor-sharp mandibles. It lunged at her, hissing viciously.

  Rose stumbled backwards, her foot slipping on the wet earth. She crashed to the ground, the air punched out of her. The centipede gave a hiss of triumph and surged forward.

  Suddenly there was a sharp piercing whine and the creature dropped from the tree, writhing on the ground in agony, mandibles snapping uselessly at the air. The Doctor stood on the other side of the clearing, sonic screwdriver held out before him, the blue light at its tip gleaming brightly in the gloom.

  He darted forward, dodging out of the way of the squirming monster, and hauled Rose to her feet. He handed her a large spotted 19

  handkerchief and she wiped her face gratefully.

  ‘How many more of these things are there?’

  The Doctor nodded over her shoulder, his face grim.

  ‘Lots, unfortunately.’

  20

  TheDoctorandRoseharedthroughthewood,desperatetoreachthe distant lights. Through the trees behind them came monsters of every description: big ones, small ones, all colours and shapes. Some bounded forward on muscular legs, others skittered from tree to tree.

  They slithered, they crawled, some even flew, pursuing them through the dark, baying like a pack of hounds. The noise was deafening.

  Rose’s breath was burning in her chest. She fought the instinct to look back. She felt that any minute now one of the monstrosities behind them would reach out with a feeler or claw and snatch her into the middle of the howling throng. She remembered the blood pools on the beach, dark stains all that was left of a young man, and started to run faster.