The 10th Professor's Adventures: Episode 4
Written by: Michael Whovian
Part 3
Sometime later, Cynthia began to stir. In her ears, she could hear the jingle of chains, the coldness of metal against her wrists, and she felt like she was floating. As she opened her eyes, she almost became sick again. Old dungeons, at least over a hundred years old, with branches, straw, stone, and other such materials scattered across the cobblestone floor. Mixed in, were bits of fabric, helmets, jewelry, and other such mementos of the people who have faced the horrors above, and left down here as a memory. As her eyes began to focus more and more in the low light, she could hear this voice echo close to her.
“Forgive the mess....” The voice echoed in her ear. “We usually do not have guests past sunrise in such a very long time...You are the first in a very long time to even see this place in the morning. You should be thankful.”
“Thankful...?” Cynthia could barely speak, moving her head to try and get the quickly growing, throbbing pain to stop. “You kidnapped me-”
“Did I say, you could speak, Human?” A black glove, with the fingertips cut out, the red nails almost cutting right into her jaw as she is grabbed. “Do not think yourself as more than an asset for me. Timelords need their companions. Knowing yours, without you, he'll coming running to save you, and then, the feast shall begin.”
“F...Feast-” Cynthia forced the word from her throat, as she could feel the cloaked figure smirk.
“Yes.....The feast of a Timelord.”
The old man shook in fear as he eyed at the intruder to his home. The Professor, for the past several hours, has been working, as under his arm he carried what looked to be a hose, a stretchy inner-tube, two metal shovels, and an old hubcap. His eyes, unlike the night before, were full of anger, even though he had calmed down, he just couldn't fully shake the full amount of rage he was feeling. Now, however, he was back in the old man's home, looking down at him like a teacher to an unruly student.
“Where is the Villa.” The Professor's tone had completely changed. His voice was darker, more authoritative, as his eyes burned into this old man.
“Villa, Villa, sir, I don't kno-”
“Don't. Lie to me. Not Now.” The Professor looked at this old man, with anger. “I know your town's secret. And the attempt to remove it to keep yourselves safe.”
The old man's eyes grew wide, as his body began to shook, as he faced this much younger man to him, as he clasped his hands together, shaking, trying not tear up from the memories. “We only wanted it to stop....I wouldn't watch my town throw away their humanity to a beast, it had haunted our town since the beginning! We tried, We tried big families, and had to write them as illness, we had to....we had to do so much, sir, and then the new town directives came, and we couldn't.....A few members fought, a small fight occurred, the people were sent in.....”
“And in one night, all of them disappeared. One. Night.”
“They took it as a sign, the adults back then, sir.......They said what we needed to do, we....we couldn't risk it.....They couldn't risk it, but I had grown up, seeing what they had sold their souls for....I only wanted to bring us back, give them back their souls!” The old man teared up, tears streaming down his face as his old hands shook, clasped together.
“So that's when you burnt down the Inn.”
“What else could have been done? I had to scare others away, I couldn't let them keep using innocents for our mistake!”
“Did none of you ever try to actually go up there?!”
“WE TRIED! WE TRIED EVERYTHING! They gave up hope when they built the motel, they were selling themselves to using others so we could survive!”
The Professor watched this man, this old man, as nearly 40 years of guilt and sadness and god knows what else pour from him, as he shakes on his couch, barely able to keep himself composed. He took another breath, as his expression softened, slowly lowering himself down to one knee and taking his hands. “Sir, I am sorry, for bringing this up for you. I understand you wished to save them.....That you saw the horrors of this town and wished for them to be over, but it was never going to be over by just one fire, to stop a horrific solution to a horrific problem. They have taken my friend, sir.”
That's what made the Old man finally raise from the sofa, as this wave of fear washed over him again, this realization coming over his face. “No....Nonono, It can't be happening, No- I told you to leave!”
The Professor pulled from his pocked the wax sealed envelope, showing it to the shaking old man. “They took her, because they want me. I know what you have done is because of fear, and anger, and grief, and you never wanted to face it, well now is the time to, Sir. I am not going to let me friend become a snack by whatever is kidnapping people. However, I don't know where I am going, do you understand me? This nightmare must end, and it must end now. I know one decision cannot even begin to heal the pain in your heart, but you have to tell me where it is!”
The old man looked to this young faced individual, the anger replaced with determination and resolve, as his hands shook. Finally, he slowly bent down, slowly pulling out the old travel catalog from under the sofa, staring at it. “We....We made this, a couple years before I did it....” He said, shakily sitting back down, as he placed it on the table. “I couldn't......They kept wanting to add more, and more, and endanger so many others, I had to save us.....” The Professor watched as he turned to the back of the catalog, which held the map. The town, when drawn out, wasn't that big, probably was a few families, grew to about a couple thousand, from how it looked. Even on the map however, he could see, leading off of the main street, which was more of a plus sign, with two streets intersecting each other, was this marked dirt path, leading to what was, politely called, “interesting and historical ruins”.
The Professor slowly stepped back, covering his mouth slightly, as the old man shook. “That's it, Isn't it?” The Professor asked.
He nodded. “Not many....people left in the town....who remembers the days right after the burning of the Inn....I, I kept myself locked away, had to, I....I couldn't face them, I had to come to terms with my own inaction first.....”
The Professor took the catalog from the table with his free hand and arm, eyeing it over, before returning his gaze to the old man. “Fear and Anger makes one do things normal people would find repulsive and evil. I fought in a war. A War you would never even understand or begin to comprehend. I was forced to follow orders, see things I wish I had the ability to go back and change the past, to stop myself. I can't. A Person's life, is stories. Stories made up of the truth, exaggerations, and outright lies we tell ourselves to keep going. You cannot hide yourself away anymore, sir. You did what you thought was right, and at least that should be remembered. Never forget your past. Lest it comes back to bite you.” With that, the Professor headed off out of the apartment, holding the catalog and the hardware items, as his mind began to work.
It was nearing dusk, as the Professor approached the backside of the Villa. While following the map seemed to help his direction, it is not a matter of misjudging where he was going, he still felt like he was getting lost. In his mind he knew that if he just walked in, it would be a trap. All that would happen in this case, if he were to follow the classic way of thinking, charging in with fists in the air, would be him pinned to the floor becoming a feast for a vampire. No, he had to be better, he had to even his chances, however he could. So, he began his plan. Finding a direct line to the back of the white villa with black windowsills, the old wood being pristine kept, he gave this smirk, as he stood right in between two trees, right at the same spot, about 15 to 20 feet apart.
Laying his tools on the ground, he put the shovels into the dirt, burying the heads completely into the ground, and leaning on them slightly, seeing them almost easily pull up the dirt. Quickly, he pushed the dirt back, tying the garden hose around the two shovels, and stretching it as hard as he could so he could tie the ends of the hose to the two trees. Anchors. He almost grinned as he looked at what he was doing. Heading back, he began picking up rocks from the forest floor, checking them to see if they were heavy enough, before picking up the inner tube, and tying that to the shovels, just under the handles, and pulling them. The shovels barely moved at all, but the inner tube stretched out. Finally, he put the hubcap in as a basket, and eyed at his shooting range. A Slingshot. A Powerful slingshot. It wouldn't do much good against those thralls, but that wasn't the point. This was a distraction, as he eyed at the windows on the backside of the house. He almost couldn't help but smirk, as he began to load in the first rock into the hubcap.
The loud smash that echoed through the villa was the first sign that perhaps this feast was not going to go to plan. As the Thralls watched from their posts, rock after rock soared into windows on the right side of the home, and bounding down the corridors and hallways, almost piling them up in some sort of twisted game of horseshoes. Their minds, mush however, could not register any problem, until they could hear the door behind them creak open.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST STANDING THERE?!” The voice behind the door screamed.
They straightened up, one of them not noticing that a rock had hit and broken one of his fingers as they stood, before marching out of the corridor, hearing more and more glass smash.
The voice behind the door yelled in rage. “FIND HIM! I DON'T CARE HOW LONG IT TAKES!”
Finally, with all of the Rocks flown through the windows, leaving them as smashed as possible, The Professor readied his final projectile. Listening for the main Villa door, he flipped the Hubcap around, and pulled back on the slingshot. Firing it, it flew, barely hitting the window, but jamming it in one of the broken square holes of the bottom window. He smiled a bit, as he heard the door begin to open, taking off around the side. Just on cue.
He could see them. The mindless drones, walking out in single file like a marching army. 4, maybe 5 of them, as they begin to head around the other side of the villa, all broken and bruised from their attacks from the windows and from Cynthia's attempted escape. The Professor closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, as he got closer and closer to the door. He could hear them marching away, as he grabbed onto the old wooden door. Over a hundred years old, and it was kept in pristine condition. Well.....Until he sent rocks and a hubcap into the windows. When he could barely hear the marching, the Professor hurried inside, closing the doors and pulling down the bar to lock the door shut. At least now, it was just them inside. One Timelord, and one Vampire. With a human as captive.
The Professor turned around, facing the foyer. Beautifully crafted, from the ornate staircase and railings stretching down to the floors and across the second story balconies. Tapestries, depicting artwork and Earth battles from at least the Civil War to the early 20th century. Beautifully kept rugs, Victorian era, spread across the dark and shined wooden floors. A House fit for royalty, or however the vampire saw themselves. As he took a couple steps, making sure to dodge the massive chandelier above his head, made out of glass and brass that shone out like fire, his eyes were almost captivated by the craftsmanship of the interior.
“For a Vampire, they know how to made their homes beautiful.....” The sounds of his shoes clicking against the floor echoed through the foyer, as he eyed around the different pathways. If there is a dungeon, then it must be nearby, The Professor thought. His eyes traced the rooms, the corridors, every path he could take....at least now, with him being inside the spider's web, Cynthia's life is safe, for now. Why bother with a snack when the main course walks right inside?
“Come into my Parlor, said the Spider to the Fly....”
“I don't know.....” The cool, cold voice makes the Professor freeze. “Doesn't feel quite right.”
His eyes slowly moved around the room, listening to heels impacting against the wooden floor. “I was wondering when I would get to hear the Mistress, or Master, of the house. Forgive the ruckus, I didn't want your pets getting involved. Nice work. If it didn't involve killing.”
“Thieves, Vagrants, and those who disrespect the rules put in place over a hundred years ago. It is not my fault, that they don't wish to follow the law.”
“Your Law. A law which has trapped innocent people in this town for almost two hundred years.”
“For their own benefit. They stay, and they are safe from what comes from the sky. All I ask is blood in return.”
“It's horrific.”
“It was necessary. They moved onto my lands nearly two hundred years ago, and as such they became my vassals, plain and simple.”
The Professor slowly walked to the bottom of the steps. “They didn't have a clue what they were signing up for. It's not right!”
“....Not Right, Timelord?” He feels a bit of anger in the voice. “What's right would be you as one of my servants, after my feast. What's right would be you suffering every single atrocity your kind afflicted on us during the war. WHAT'S RIGHT.....Is you bowing before me for mercy.” He hears the footsteps getting closer and closer.
“Forgive me then, for I'm not like most of my kind.”
“You're brave. Stupid, but a lot more brave. Many would have tried to flee by now, do you honestly care for a little human that much, to put your life, the life of a Lord of Time, in danger to save her?”
His face slightly scrunches, glaring around the room. “Any day.”
Slowly, a gloved hand, black lace protecting a pale white hand, appeared on the second floor balcony. As the Professor quickly looked up, the master of the house began to walk out of the shadows. Long Crimson hair. Bloodshot red eyes, pale skin like the whitest snow, a long black dress with lace on the ends, with patterns in it like roses and other flowers, and small high heels. The Professor turned his head slightly away from from her, as she slowly walked to the top of the staircase.
“Let me guess.” The Professor spoke. “You've read their stories and myths to make all this?”
The Vampire smirked, showing her perfectly sharpened fangs. “Who knew these flesh could make such wonderful cover stories for us, all this time?” Slowly, she began walking down the foyer stairs. “However, to make the process complete I had to....adapt. I was once called by the ancestors of the current people of that town, Lady Reinhardt. A Simple name, would you not agree?” Finally, she made it to the first floor, walking right up to the Professor without a single drop of fear on her face. “Now, Timelord....What do they call you, I wonder?”
“They call me the Professor.” He slowly turned to the vampire. “How, How did you find yourself here?”
“Because I fled, as you must have.” She almost chuckled. “Really, is that so hard to wrap your mind around? The endless war between our People, trapped in stalemate, did you not think many of our kinds would not flee away to survive?”
“Even abandoning your great ones?”
“YOU DESTROYED OUR GREAT ONES!” The hard punch to his gut was unexpected, as he stumbled to the floor, her eyes immediately burned with rage. “They burned them, hunted them like they were nothing but bugs, insects. Our Great ones, the leaders of all, KILLED by puny little SALVAGERS! All you Timelords do is take, and take, from the other races of the universe, modify what you don't understand and CLAIM IT AS YOUR OWN!” She slowly took a couple steps closer to him. “We adapted to confront you. Became what the universe saw us as. Twisted us into. Ever since, the war has become a standstill. Clones, androids, Cybernetic enhancements, anything for a Timelord to keep on fighting.....On our side, Cloning.....Like the human form of trenches....”
“....The war that never ended....And the universe adapted around it....”
“Now, there will be an end.....” She slowly smirked. “I was just going to feast on you...But now you've made me ANGRY, Timelord...I wonder, without any of your gadgets or trinkets, or even your machine, how you could stand against one of us...” At that, she lunged for him, on the floor.
Part 4
The Professor rolled out of the way as he heard her hit the ground. As fast as he could, he darted for one of the corridors as fast as he could, hearing laughter behind him as he hurried as fast he could.
“PROFESSOR!” He could hear her say behind him. “What's wrong? Scared of a vampire? Where is that instinct to kill, to destroy?” Her laughter echoed down the corridor, as he turned the corner and dove into the first room he could find.
Hearing the commotion upstairs, Cynthia began to struggle in her restraints. He knew by now he may have come for the rescue, walked right in and is probably either becoming her feast at this moment, or is trying to think of a way to save her. Stalling, as she could hear more commotion, people hitting the floor. At those sounds, she began to kick and squirm on the chain, as the stone holding them began to shake.
Old Stone is a brilliant building material, or was, when needing to build underground. It was able to be stacked up and held together with the dirt to the point that it is like glue and mortar held together. Stuck together and unable to move. The problem is, is that when Age is introduced to that equation, the strength begins to break down. It is why some dungeons become gigantic sinkholes ready to just collapse in on themselves. Added in Cynthia's own strength and skill, and one stone holding her up became like a plug to a raging dam. As She yanks the stone out of the wall, hitting the old straw flooring, dirt began to rush into the hole left behind, pushing a couple more stones and letting in more dirt.
“Uh oh....” was all Cynthia could muster from her lips as she took off for the staircase out, as more dirt began to pour into the room.
The Professor went silent. His ear to the door, as he began to hear the muffled footsteps from outside. The room he has found himself in, was more like a trophy room, old and antique weaponry from not just earth's history but from multiple world's histories, all hung up in either respect or some sort of showing off. However, it probably was meant as more as a flex of power, since she probably doesn't have any guests around. His eyes traced around the room, looking for anything to help. Blunderbuss, some old sonic blasters with the ammunition completely missing, some sort of cutlass- Wait....The Professor slowly moved over to the wall on his right, trying all he can to be quiet as he slowly examined the odd sword on the wall. The blade was far too thin, the technique to cut something that perfect and that thin is not from Earth. The hilt was wrapped with pure silver, with dials and buttons along the hand cover, and a small trigger like device inside, made for the ring finger. Galaxy grinned a bit as he slowly removed it from the wall. A Taran Electric Saber. He had never seen one in such pristine condition, nor one even this close before, but holding it, his hearts began to slow. He at least had something against her, as he took it with one hand.
“Alright then...” He spoke to himself, as he made his way back to the door. “If you wish to fight, then let's make it even...” As he stepped out of the room, he could still hear the echoing footsteps from the vampire's heels.
“Tell me, Timelord...” He could hear her voice say. “Have you ever seen bloodshed?”
The question changed the Professor's expression, as his mind slightly wandered, raising the saber in defense. “I have. I've seen a war that had wrecked and nearly destroyed not just the universe but time as we knew it.”
“All that death...and destruction...drives at the very soul and mind of anyone.”
“That doesn't give you the right to use these people as your personal food source...”
“I told them to leave. They begged me. They couldn't cross the mountains, they had long since run out of food. All I have done, Timelord, is show them kindness.”
“Kindness?! Taking someone every day for your own meal?!”
“I live. They live on my lands. The world pays no attention to them.” The Professor freezes as he can feel her behind him, as he readies the saber. “This small town could be burned off the face of the earth, and no one would care...and yet you come running in like a knight in shining armor...”
“Everyone's story deserves to be told.” The Professor turned to face her, holding the saber in his right hand, as she smirked.
The vampire took a couple steps closer to him, before they both began to feel the house begin to shake. The groaning of the wood, the cracking of the old plaster walls, as the house began to tip to it's side. The Professor, acting quickly, stabbed the saber into the floor and hung on as the Vampire fell back and slid for the wall, as one of the doors near him swung open, revealing Cynthia, using the rock and the old chains to hand onto one of the old door hinges, having this grin of a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar.
“Let me guess?!” The Professor spoke, hanging onto the saber. “Used your strength to pull the rock free, and dirt started rushing in!”
“That obvious?”
“You've made a sinkhole, Cynthia! The dirt keeps filling into the dungeons, leaving a hole for the house to fall right into, and if it's tips enough the roof comes crashing in on our heads!” He held out his hand, taking her's, and began using the saber to climb up the left side of the corridor. “We have to open the window! A Sinkhole will not destroy the vampire, only leave her plans half foiled!”
“You just said, the roo-”
“Rocks can't destroy vampires, Cynthia! Otherwise you'd have stories of random peasants storming Dracula's castle with any river rock they could find!”
As they began to climb higher and higher, using the floor as a sort of straight rock wall, Cynthia hanging onto the Professor as he tried all he could to keep hooked onto the floor, his eyes couldn't help but see where the great beast herself was. His hearts quickly dropped and he began going faster when he looked. The Vampire looked pissed, her eyes were burning with rage, using her fingernails to climb after them, cutting into the floor as pieces of the walls and the ceiling began to fall.
“But how?!” Cynthia asked, trying to use the rock and her chains to catch on something above them. “How could one rock cause all this?!”
“You pulled the pin in a balloon. Like a dam, the rocks held back the dirt. Without one rock, the dam flows in, the forces them push more rocks, more dirt comes in, leaving the hole behind. What you have done is effectively destroyed the villa, which was part 2 of the plan, but skipping the important bit.”
As They reached the foyer, they could see the chandelier tilting on it's hook hung from the ceiling. The low amount of sunlight was reaching inside, thanks to the broken windows, and from the Professor could tell on the other end of the hallway, the hubcap was reflecting some of it right into the chandelier. A Magnifier. He grinned a bit, looking around for anything as the Vampire began to get closer.
“Professor, I know you don't like being rushed, but there is a VAMPIRE eyeing us like we're thanksgiving dinner, could you please HURRY?!”
His eyes looked to Cynthia, before looking at the saber. Silver. Sparkling silver, or something similar to give off a clear reflective surface. He closed his eyes, yanking Cynthia against the floor and stabbing the saber into the sunlight.
The Scream was horrifying, loud, and immediate. The sunlight hit the Vampire like a beam, sending her sizzling back, almost like she was on fire from how direct the sunlight was, as the Professor struggled holding himself and his companion against the wall at this awkward angle, as he could hear the scream getting worse and worse, the noises of fire and the smell of smoke beginning to permeate into the house, as some of the lesser reflected beams of light caught tapestries and sliding rugs on fire, landing on the walls causing embers to fly off, catching more and more on fire. When the Professor's eyes opened, it was like staring into an inferno, fire spreading everywhere, smoke pouring out of smashed windows and rising up, which thanks to the tilting of the house, kept them above the smoke.
“WE NEED OUT OF HERE, AND FAST!” The Professor cried, as he could feel the house tilting more, causing bits of the ceiling to come off, an entire section of house crumbling and smashing down the hole where the vampire was. If she was still down there, or if she too was part of the inferno, it was unclear. Whatever that scream was, all that could be heard now was the rushing of the flames. The professor, taking the saber with one hand, stuck it between the rock and the chain, twisting it around once, and then throwing it. The chain and the rock caught the old wooden door, as part of it fell away, and the two swung, like a grappling hook, right onto the grass outside.
The villa, for how big it was, the sinkhole was growing around it even bigger. Roof tiles and stones began to crash into the structure, as the fire raged on to the outside. The Professor quickly worked on unlocking Cynthia's cuffs, as they watched the villa tilt more and more higher, before finally, just as he said, the roof was unable to take the strain of the awkward angle and began to crash and destroyed the villa. In the span of a few minutes, thanks to old wood, old furniture, sunlight, a hubcap, and a mirrored surface, a vampire and her home were destroyed, at least, that is what the Professor hoped anyway, as he began to peer into the sinkhole, seeing the smashed up home, bits and pieces spread everywhere.
“Well.......That's the end of the Horrible Secret.” The Professor spoke, watching the smoldering ruins and the smoke rise high into the skies above.
The Professor helped Cynthia to the TARDIS, dodging and weaving the celebrating townspeople as he couldn't help but form a smile across his face. It was almost like a parade, people dancing in the street, doors wide open, music blaring out of open cars, it was like a block party on steroids.
“What will happen to them, Professor?” Cynthia asked.
“Well, they will never fully forget what they have done, or what they had to do to survive all this time under vampire rule.” He spoke, turning to her. “But, in some ways, they now have the chance to change the town, to finally put in new roots, and new ways of thinking. I think everyone will be just fine. Just fine indeed.”
The two smiled to each other, as they watched the street party get into full swing.
“What about the old man?” Cynthia wondered.
“He'll write down his stories, he'll tell the full history. He lives with a lot of guilt, Cynthia, for what he has seen his entire life, but now he has a chance to survive. To live a life not haunted by the great beast overlooking the town.”
“So...That's it, then?”
The Professor smiled, opening the door slightly. “That's it. Come along now, Cynthia, We better let them make up their own rumors and legends about what happened. I love that part.”
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