Friday, 2 November 2012
09:09:15 PM (GMT)
"Don't blink, whatever you do!" Keith shouted to the class, ushering them all back
against the wall. They needed to get out of there... "Don't blink- Where's the
"Over here mister!"
Without looking to the young girl, he pointed in the vague direction, "Everyone OUT!
Get as far away as you can!" Behind him, he heard the sound of 30 school shoes
hurrying outside, and the door slamming behind him.
Angels. In an art gallery. Who's bright idea was that?! He was now beginning to
understand the Doctor's dilemma. Everything seemed to escalate when he was trying to
do something. He was talking to Monet yesterday about the dead Waterlillies and a
bloody Grackule emerged from the pond!
The boy's eyes were beginning to sting, and before he could even register, the angels
had taken a terrifyingly large pace forward. "Bugger bugger bugger..." He mumbled,
scrambling in his jacket pocket (the normal sized one) for the phone he had been
bullied into buying. It was a brick of a Nokia, and somehow, without looking, he
managed to dial one of the two numbers he had memorized. The TARDIS's emergency
number, and hers.
A foolish glance at the screen, and he was met with a gaping mouth of sharp teeth and
piercing sightless eyes. His breathing was ruptured now, and his hand shook as he
raised the phone to his ear, listening to the forever calm ringing. "Pick up pick
upppp...." Of course, he knew that she probably wouldn't be able to hear him, but he
knew that it would ring. She would know that he was thinking of her.
The peaceful rings stopped abruptly, replaced with a harsh static. The angels were
interfering with the damn electric... "Hello?! Oh God please answer! I love you,
okay? I do. I'll come back for you one day. My last jump'll be for you. I
promise, Emilie. I promise you'll see the stars... Please say you can hear me..."
Three short syllables. He hadn't meant for them to sound quite so desperate...
He let out a shaking breath as he dropped the phone to the floor. Cut off. Damn
He stared into the angel's eyes, knowing that he couldn't move, since in his
peripheral vision he could see two more, each with claw-like hands outstretched
towards him. It would mean wasting a jump... Making it an odd number, so he
couldn't go back to her... But what else could he do? He'd remain for eternity if
he could, trapped in an eternal staring contest with the stone angels.
His tongue darted out nervously, wetting his dry lips as he took yet another unsteady
"I'm sorry, Emilie..."
He let out a scream the instant he closed his eyes, a course of electricity rushing
through him as he landed with a painful thud on a rough stone floor.
"I'm so sorry..."