Another unfinished piece of fan fiction that I'd begun--and completely forgot about. I wrote in January...but oddly barely remember doing it. I mean, yes, I remember writing it, but for some reason I just let it go and pushed it out of my mind. No idea why, but now I reckon I'll have another go at it. It's probably a lousy story, if I "forgot" about it, but maybe I can salvage it...we'll see, I suppose. I've some ideas for an all-new story, with the Doctor and Donna, but have to watch RB a few times, to get a better feel for Donna's character, before have a stab at writing her. Anyway, here's the first chapter of "Killing Frost," such as it is. Playwrite27 (N.)
Doctor Who: The Killing Frost
CHAPTER 1: Mystery in the Park
The night was still and cold. In the park, the grass bore a heavy rime of white frost, and the trees glistened with it, their interlacing branches looking like giant crystals. Colourful flowers were bowed down with the weight of it. A light icy mist clung to the ground in some places. A skim of ice covered the nearby lake, as ducks and geese burrowed their heads deeper into their feathers as they slept. Suddenly, with a great squawk, some of the birds took wing into the night. A wheezing and groaning noise ripped apart the hushed scene, as a blue police box materialized under some trees near the lakeside.
The door opened and a thin man in a brown overcoat emerged, followed by a slender woman in a short brown leather jacket, jeans and boots. Looking around, the Doctor rubbed his hands together and frowned deeply. The woman looked at him askance. “A lovely stroll through the park, you said, to take in the spring flowers. Yeah, right. If this is spring, I’d hate to see your idea of winter, Doctor. I’m going back inside where it’s warmer.” With that said, she stepped back into the Tardis. But the Doctor barely noticed her going.
Looking around him, his every sense told him this was wrong, very wrong. It was supposed to be a Saturday afternoon in May, in Swansea. It should be sunny and warm--or, at the very least, rainy and cool. The Doctor looked all around him, a puzzled frown creasing his face. “This isn’t right,” he muttered to himself. “it should be broad daylight. The park should be filled with people strolling about, children playing, birds singing--mimes. Although," He muttered, scratching his cheek, "maybe that's not such a bad thing. I hate mimes." He shook his head, saying aloud, "Why’s it so cold?" Jamming his hands in his coat pockets, he shrugged and strode back into the console room. Maybe he had gotten the date and time wrong. He’d better check.
Martha was seated on the console’s chair, arms folded and looking slightly cross. The Doctor rushed in and shrugged out of his coat. He flung it at Martha. “Hold this, will you?” He asked absently. She shook her head. “Well it’s always nice to know that at least I’m good for something.” Martha muttered under her breath. The Doctor spared her a brief grin, then frowning in concentration, he began stabbing at buttons. He glared at the monitor. “Oh, well. then, now that's really funky. No, this is definitely not right.”
Leaving the coat on the chair, Martha walked over and stared at the monitor screen--not that she had a clue what it said. "So what? We're not in Wales, or we're in Wales, just not in the right season? Or," She asked wryly, “does the Tardis get its weather reports wrong, as well?" Looking fiercely serious, the Doctor stared at the monitor. “None of the above--good guesses, though. No, we're in the right place, the right time, only…” Rubbing his chin, The Doctor’s voice trailed off as his mind began doing complex calculations. Martha leaned over his shoulder. “Only what, Doctor, what is it?” She asked anxiously. The Doctor looked genuinely dumbfounded. "I...don't have a clue." He said lamely.
playwrite27
Stop Spamming me!!