Doctor Who_ Wooden Heart - Martin Day [53]
And the killer that hunted in the shadows – indeed, was shadow itself – would embrace them all soon enough.
There was another sudden, sharp cry from somewhere, throttled away to a whisper within moments. Abbas got to his feet uncertainly, walked – as if a baby taking his first steps – out of his cell and to the handrail, and looked up and down the dizzying structure.
It was silent now, and motionless. He could hardly remember his crimes, and he did not know if he was worse than the others who had died, or better – or if it was just a random twist of fate that meant he was going to be the last human to look out at research station Castor.
Castor – the drive to tame wild things, now itself consumed by uncontrollable violence.
‘Come on!’ he shouted, his voice echoing around the caged void. ‘I’m here! It’s my turn!’
Abbas didn’t want to be alone. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to be human anymore.
The angel of shadow and death ascended majestically towards Abbas, in the central space between the floors and walkways and cells. It came towards him, illuminated by the flickering of the emergency lights. The creature was almost invisible and yet horrifyingly real.
There was a moaning sigh – the last thing Abbas realised was that he himself was making the noise – and the thing devoured him. Ben Abbas would neither live nor die nor be lonely ever again.
TWELVE
Jude saw the Doctor fall out of the shadow and into the light, clutching his chest and choking as if plucked from a dark sea.
Jude ran forward, wondering if she ought to clap him on the back to make sure he was breathing properly. ‘Doctor!’ she cried. ‘Are you all right?’
The Doctor stood for a moment, obviously unsteady on his feet and breathing heavily. He looked around, sightless – and then hugged Jude tightly to him. ‘Did you miss me?’ he laughed, his face now flushed and full of colour.
‘What happened to you?’ asked Jude. ‘That shadow thing seemed to suck you up, and then…’
‘Then?’
‘You were hanging there, hanging in mid air – and flailing around like you were having a bad dream!’
The Doctor took a step back, puffing his cheeks. ‘Blimey,’ he said, more quietly. ‘The things I experienced in there… One man in particular – his entire life flashing before my eyes… And I felt every emotion as he did. All the terrible things he had done…’ The Doctor paused. ‘He was the last man to die. It was as if the creature was trying to show me something – trying to give me an insight into what went on here…’
‘I don’t understand, Doctor,’ said Jude. ‘What was that creature?’
‘It was… a thousand nightmares made flesh,’ said the Doctor, but then he immediately shook his head, irritated with himself. ‘No, no, no, that’s not the best way of putting it. It’s like… you ever watched your mum make, oh I don’t know, chicken stock or something?’
Jude found herself nodding, desperate not to interrupt the Doctor’s flow.
‘You chuck in bones and flesh and herbs and, you know, bit of white wine maybe… and you carefully boil it – not too hot, mind, you want to do it to last as long as possible – and then you start to filter away all the bones and the fat and gunk…’
‘And you’re left with something yummy and concentrated, like chicken multiplied by chicken,’ suggested Jude, breathless.
‘Exactly,’ said the Doctor. ‘Chicken squared – the very essence of chicken.’ His face darkened. ‘Only this thing, this creature… It’s not good at all. It’s as if all humanity is thrown into a pot and, after decades, all that’s left… is evil. Pure, unthinking, unadulterated evil.’
‘But why?’
‘This is a prison ship,’ said the Doctor simply. ‘There were evil men here…’
Jude still wasn’t sure she understood. ‘But what happened when the creature swallowed you?’
‘I experienced every bad feeling, every bad action