Hello there! Thank you for clicking on my story. I promise you won't regret it. ;) My Doctor Who story is a little different than you'd expect. It's going to revolve around the same sort of themes, but I will try my hardest to make the sci fi elements up. (Well some of them). Obviously iconic enemies like the Dalek, the Cyberman etc will always feature. Because they are as much apart of Doctor Who as his TARDIS. Enjoy. :)

The cold metallic voice vills the corridoor. "You. Have. No. Choice. Ex-ter-min-ate!" 

There's a sound like metal rubbing on a grater, a sound worse than fingernails on a blackboard, and the screech of tires on the road. Even worse than a teacher's voice giving out homework.

There's an ear-peircing scream, then the sound of furious sobbing. Then I muffle a scream as something rounds the corner. It's like nothing I have ever seen before. It's metal. Well it looks like metal, sliding around, almost floating on the floor. What look like knobs are all over its cold, grey steel and metal body. At the top of the long cylinder like mass is a dome, and protuding from that is a long arm, with a blue light on the end. I gasp, the noise choking in my throat. "What are you?" I get out. The... metal beasts starts beeping. And beeping, faster and faster. The room is closing around wherever I am. It's closing in on me. Soon it will be nothing. I will be nothing.

**************************

I sit bolt upright in bed, heart racing, blue eyes flashing. The tiny breeze filters through the small window to my left. I pant, letting the covers fall of my shoulders. I reach up to touch my forehead, where my hair is matted to my head.

Sweat drenches my arms, my head, even my legs. My shoulder length hair is clinging to my neck. I crawl slowly out of bed, peering anxiously out of the window, seeing nothing, of course. It's always nothing. Then there's the door. My mouth is parched - so dry it feels like i won't make it long without water. I step carefully on the old floorboards, creepig to the door. The big dead bolt shines in the moonlight coming from the window.

I pull a bobby pin from my hair and work the lock around. She keeps changing it. But obviously she hasn't realized that I don't need a key to open a lock. At last it clicks silently open, and I make my way down below. Careful of the creaky stairs, I slip down to the kitchen.

Just as I'm pouring a glass of water, the light switches on, blinding me. I feel myself start to panic as I clutch the glass in my  hand tightly.

"Darcy? What the heck are you doing out here?" I almost drop the cup in relief.

"Alex! I was uh... you know..."

He comes closer, peering at me, black spiky hair falling in his eyes. "You're... you look pale. You alright?"

"Yeah. Bad dream. It's fine now."

"Good. You'd better go back to bed before Mum sees you. She'll skin you alive if she knew you were here. How'd you get the lock open?"

I put the cup down and snigger over my shoulder. "She's going to need more than a  lock to keep me in one place."

**********************

"That's the FIFTH time I've TOLD YOU!" Mum shouts. A red tinge tints her made up face. A stray brown lock of hair falls from its perfect bun. "Can you not get anything right, girl?! I did specifically tell you not to put salt in my eggs! It's not good for my arteries. Are you trying to poison me?"

"No... ma'am." I stutter out, hastily grabbing her dish.

"Tell the cooks to re make it. And get me a clean napkin on the way!" I meet Alex's eyes as I duck from the room, dodging the servants and few important people that litter the brown marble hallways. 

"Order for table 1. She's allergic to the salt." I joke, dumping the eggs into the bin. "The M's not happy." 

"Oh, dear that'll be the 8th box of eggs this week." Cook runs a hand through her short greying hair. "If Mr. Lester sees the bill he's going to split a vein." 

"Oh, come off it. You know he only does that if it's over 1000." I give her a cheeky wink and scoop up the plate. "See you later." 

"Wouldn't want to." She retorts. 

*************************

"So the plans for today, ma'am?" An impatient looking busniess woman sits at the end of the long table. Mum - Mrs. Lester (it's easier that way) smoothes her black jacket.

"Oh, bother. I can't have one quiet morning to myself these days, can I?" Mum sighs. "Well then, get on with it." 

"Here are your eggs m..." I stop in the doorway. The lady's eyes are on me. Her voice certainly fits the description. Tall, very thin. Wire rimmed glasses sit on her small nose. Her jacket yells importance, as does her fancy name badge. 

But in that one single moment I look straight at her, and she looks at me, I see a small flash of light. It lasts for no more than half a second, but in that flash of light, she changes. Her skin becomes a luminescent green colour. The glasses meld to her face, creating deep purple lines, and her mouth widens into a wide slit. As soon as the picture goes, she stares at me strangely, and clears her throat slightly.

I look down as I feel a strong grip on my arm. Mum's eyes have widened, and her face has gone red again, for the second time. Egg has made its way from the plate and onto her neatly ironed jacket.

************

"You IDIOT!" She pulls me from the room, her grip painfully tight on my shoulder. She pushes me down the hallway, roughly shoving me inside the door. My other shoulder bashes painfully into the doorway but I do nothing more than wince. If I was to speak she would certainly not be merciful.

"Mr. Lester!" Her screech is far worse than that I've ever heard. Seriously. She could like - knock out glass with it. Luckily the windows are double glazed.

Father glances briefly up from his maps and drawings. His hair is standing up in odd spots, and his glasses are skewed on his nose. He takes them off and stares disdainfully at me.

"What?"

"I suggest... no... I demand that you take her out of here. She's been nothing but trouble ever since she came. Just... take her your work for the day. Teach the ignorant brat some manners."

"I'm right here." I grit my teeth as she slaps me hard across the face. It's not the slap that hurts. It's the fact that my own mother treats me like her personal servant.

"I can't today." Father says, re-adjusting his glasses. "I'm very busy. Very... Very busy."

"Doing what?" I peer over the end of the table. Drawings. So many drawings, and sketches. Pencils are skattered everywhere. And then I see it. In the middle of figures, diagrams and massive sheets of algebra-looking equasions, are the things. 

The things from my dream. There's a distinct drawing of it.

"How dare you?!" Mum grips my shoulders harder. "Remember your place, girl. You are nothing more than a..."

"I'm your daughter, still!" I turn around, voice cracking slightly. "Your own flesh and b..."

I'm stopped as a hand is shoved over my mouth. I look up to see one of Father's bodyguards behind me. Her black eyes glint back at me from beneath a sheen of black hair. My hands are pulled tightly behind my back and I'm shoved out of the room.

My mind is still reeling. What was in my dreams? More importantly, why did Dad have a drawing of the... things in my dream? 

I hardly notice where we're going until we stop outside of my room. The cold black lady glares at me.

"2 minutes. Get some other clothes on. I suggest long pants and a jacket."

What? "Where... where am I going?"

"Silence! And hurry up!" She taps her fingers against her gun. Getting the message, I shut the door and jump forwards. 2 minutes isn't long and... I'm guessing she'd be one to break down the door in exactly 2 minutes if I didn't hurry. I really only have a few sets of clothes. Not really paying much attention, I grab the first pair of jeans I can lay my hands on, a black skivvy with a high neck and a trench coat jacket. There's not much in the shoe department, only a pair of red faded converse that I found hanging over the telephone wires outside.

Amazing, what some people throw out.

"Time's up!" The shrill voice of the military-bodyguard lady interrupts my thoughts. She barges through the door as I'm pulling on my coat, forcing the last button closed just as she secures my arms and shoves me ahead of her.

And then I really start to wonder. We go left, instead of right, into the main hallway. I've never been down here before. It's out of bounds to servants and.. apparently family members as well.

A blue glass lift awaits. She swipes a card and it opens. Shoving me roughly inside, she presses an intercom. "Level negative 25." She says coldly. She lets go of me a moment to grab onto the wire railing that stretches the perimieter of the lift.

I have no time to sputter out that my hands are still tied, before we lurch downwards. Stomach dropping, I can't help myself as I crash to the floor, wincing slightly as my skin comes harshly in contact with the cold tiles.

Well. This is one heck of a fun trip.