SPACEMAN AND THE MOON ― doctor who

thirty eight; 42

did you guys know this was chris chibnall's first episode of doctor who? interesting lil tidbit for you.

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LUNA SAT AGAINST HER HEADBOARD, WATCHING WITH QUICKENING BREATH AND SWEATY PALMS AS THE FIGURE CREAPT TOWARDS HER.

It'd been a week since the Doctor revealed the truth to her. A week since her nightmares worsened and she fell in and out of consciousness as memories of someone else's life haunted her.

It stumbled like something out of a horror movie, hair falling down in tangled knots. Screams sounded around her, like owls screeching in the night, clawing, pecking at her mind.

She trembled against her knees, clutching them closer to her chest.

Luna's hair matted against her skin, stuck with sweat and her eyes were blurry with exhaustion.

She wanted to die.

"Please, stop," the words fell from her lips helplessly, "you don't want this life, I promise. I know what you are and you don't want this."

The nightmarish figure didn't respond. It only stumbled closer.

Luna let out a breathy sob, wanting to bury her face in her knees but found she couldn't take her eyes from the creature.

"He left you, he -- he," she let out another sob, digging her nails into the skin of her legs, trying to regain her breath. "He left you, he doesn't, he didn't -- he didn't pick you, he won't ever --"

SCREEEEEEEEECH.

Luna winced, pushing herself further against the headboard, shaking her head, begging the creature to stop. It did this every night.

Every night for a week, it crept closer and closer but never touched her. It moved just in front of her and watched her. It approached the bed now, hands curling into the damp sheets, legs twisting animalistically as it clambered on.

"Please," she cried out, "please just leave me alone. I can't help you."

It sat in front of her now, watching. It had no face, just long, dark knotted hair and a bony, angled form. Its head tilted, leaning in closer to her own. She felt hot breath on her face, sniffing her with no nose. She cringed, turning her head away, tears pouring down her cheeks, intermingling with the sweat caked on her skin.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Luna jumped, her peripherals catching the creature stop, tilting its head in confusion. She sobbed to herself, wishing the knocks would make it go away.

But they never scared it.

They never made it leave her. Nothing did.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Luna shook her head furiously, reaching her hands up to her ears, wishing the sound would go away -- just leave her alone. But the knocks followed her every waking moment, just as the creature haunted her nights.

She never had a moment of peace, a moment of -

"Luna! What's happened to you?"

Who was that? Luna looked up, face nearly touching the creature's.

No one was there. No one was coming to save her. They never did. The Doctor hadn't spoken to her since their fight, since he shared the truth. She told Martha she was sick in hopes of getting some rest, but the idea was futile.

Rest would abandon her until her mind collapsed on itself and she would be leave this world forever.

"Luna, look at me!"