The Mists of Felspoon ~The Journal of Clara Oswald~ (Doctor Who)

Little People

As the TARDIS calms down I pick myself up off the floor. Wherever, whenever I am sure took a rough ride to get to. I try the door. It opens easily.

“Oh thanks. You open NOW.” I say to the TARDIS, who, as always, doesn’t respond. Poking my head around the door I see a cold metal room, taller than I can see. In one part of the room I see a flashing panel, the same alternating colours as the button on the TARDIS console. I gingerly step out of the blue box and into the room. I see no lighting, apart from a shaft of sunlight that seemed to come from somewhere far above. I walk over to the flashing panel. I spot a pile of papers on the desk next to it and begin to read them. My mind wanders back to the Doctor as I skim through what seems to be a list of people, with alien names I won’t even try to pronounce. I wonder where he is, and what he is doing to find me. My hand brushes something small and cold, causing me to shiver. I look down and see a small glass phial, full of some sort of gas. It reminds me of the fog. Suddenly a small man enters the room. Well. I say man… 

He had silvery skin with two round eyes perched on the top of his head. He was about a metre tall, with a fluffy tail sprouting from his back that wagged from side to side like a happy dog, though when he saw me it shot between his legs.

“Who are you?” He yelled at me, he looked stern but his tone said ‘please don’t kill me!’ I saw no need to lie; he looked as worried as I was.

“Clara Oswald, human.” I told him clearly, trying not to let my expression show how frightened I really was.

“Fralang, native of Felspoon.” He replied, still with his tail between his legs. “What do you want?” he asked, still trying to look like he was completely in control.

“No idea.” I reply simply. “What’s that stuff in the phial?” I ask. He looks at me.

“You don’t know?” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just get out of here, this is a private research centre.” He turned and began tapping away at a holographic keypad.

I walk up behind him, trying to get a look at what he’s doing.

“What’s up with that fog out there then?” I ask, trying to sound innocent. He sighs.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” He hands me the phial. “Look, Clara Oswald, human. If you’re not leaving make yourself useful.” He pointed to a panel of buttons too high for him to reach. “The red one.” I press the red button and the wall slides open, revealing a room full of lab equipment that looked about fifty thousand years ahead of anything on Earth. He trotted in, slinging on a white coat as he walked. I duck through the low door. All the furniture and fittings are Felspoonian sized. Fralang takes out a heap of science equipment and begins mixing chemicals, adding small drops of his solutions to the phial of gas. I decide that I should have a look around, search for clues. The calendar and clocks confirm that it is the same day that I left the Doctor. I wonder what he’s up to.