𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙊𝙛 𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙚 ✧ 𝘽𝙤𝙤𝙠 Ⅰ [✓]

The Shakespeare Code Pt. 3

The Doctor watches as {Y/N} slowly opens her eyes blinking a couple of times.

"How long have you been watching?" she asks her voice barely above a whispers as Martha was sleeping.

"The past hour or so" he replies, {Y/N} looks around the room her eyes landing on Martha "what's wrong?" suddenly a scream rings out and Martha leaps out of bed following the Doctor and {Y/N} who had already ran to where the scream had come from.

"What? What was that?" Shakespeare asks sitting up, the Doctor, {Y/N} and Martha run into the room, the women who had screamed was on the floor, Martha goes to the window.

"Her heart gave out. She died of fright" {Y/N} says.

"Doctor? {Y/N}?"

"What did you see?" the Doctor asks.

"A witch."

*Time skip*

Later, a cockerel crows and dogs start barking at the rising sun.

"Oh, sweet Dolly Bailey. She sat out three bouts of the plague in this place when we all ran like rats. But what could have scared her so? She had such enormous spirit" Shakespeare says.

"Rage, rage against the dying of the light" the Doctor says.

"I might use that" Shakespeare says.

"You can't. It's someone else's" {Y/N} says.

"But the thing is, Lynley drowned on dry land, Dolly died of fright, and they were both connected to you" Martha says.

"You're accusing me?" Shakespeare asks.

"No, but I saw a witch, big as you like, flying, cackling away, and you've written about witches" Martha says.

"I have? When was that?" Shakespeare asks.

"Not, not quite yet" {Y/N} says.

"Peter Streete spoke of witches."

"Who's Peter Streete?"

"Our builder. He sketched the plans to the Globe."

"The architect. Hold on. The architect! The architect! The Globe! Come on!" the Doctor says.

*Time skip*

"The columns there, right? Fourteen sides. I've always wondered, but I never asked. Tell me, Will. Why fourteen sides?" {Y/N} asks.

"It was the shape Peter Streete thought best, that's all. Said it carried the sound well."

"Fourteen. Why does that ring a bell? Fourteen."

"There's fourteen lines in a sonnet" Martha says.

"So, there is. Good point. Words and shapes following the same design. Fourteen lines, fourteen sides, fourteen facets. Oh, my head. Tetradecagon. Think, think, think! Words, letters, numbers, lines!" {Y/N} starts pacing.

"This is just a theatre" Shakespeare says.

"Oh yeah, but a theatre's magic, isn't it? You should know. Stand on this stage, say the right words with the right emphasis and the right time. Oh, you can make men weep, or cry with joy. Change them. You can change people's minds just with words in this place. But if you exaggerate that."

"It's like your police box. Small wooden box with all that power inside" Martha says.

"Oh. Oh, Martha Jones, I like you. Tell you what, though. Peter Streete would know. Can I talk to him?" {Y/N} asks.

"You won't get an answer. A month after finishing this place, lost his mind."

"Why? What happened?" the Doctor asks.