ULTIMATE Doctor Who Book of Randomness (COMPLETED)

Series 8 Episode 8: Mummy on the Orient Express (Part 3)

P.O.V: The Doctor

After I'd left Perkins' area, I headed into the lounge. There I found a man with a thin mustache reading a book, sitting in a chair. I pointed at him and walked over to him.

"What's the most interesting thing about the Foretold?"

"I'm terribly sorry, I don't believe we've met." He said suspiciously, lowering his book.

"You know. The Foretold. Mythical mummy. Legend has it that if you see it, you're a dead man."

"Yes, I know what it is. You see, I happen to be--" I cut him off, I already knew.

"Emil Moorhouse, professor of alien mythology. I'm the Doctor. Pleased to meet you. So, the most interesting thing about the Foretold. Go." I sat down on the other side of Moorhouse's small table and waited.

"Er, well, it would have to be the time limit given before it kills you. I can't think of another myth where it's so specific. How does it go? Er, The number of evil twice over. They that bear the Foretold's stare have sixty six seconds to live." He said knowingly, still a little confused by my odd mannerisms.

"No, no, no. Nice try. Very atmospheric. But that's not it. Try again." Amateur.

"A cynical man might say that you were trying to pump me for information." Moorhouse raised his eyebrows and looked at me expectantly.

"The myth of the Foretold first appeared over five thousand years ago. In some stories, there is a riddle or secret word that is supposed to make it stop. Some characters try to bargain with it, offer riches, confess sins. All to no avail."

I pulled out a silver cigarette case from my jacket and offered him a jelly baby. I loved jelly babies.

"Well, you certainly know a little mythology." He took one gratefully and ate it quickly.

"I know a lot. Because, from time to time, it turns out to be true."

"But that's the great appeal, isn't it?" He said longingly. "Earth legends are such dry, dusty affairs, and always fiction. But up here, in the stars, anything's possible. That's why I chose this field, to be honest. Hoping one day I might meet a real monster." If only he knew.

"Isn't that everyone's dream? But you still haven't answered my riddle. What's the most interesting thing about the Foretold?" I interrupted his dream session with a cold, hard question. I needed answers.

"Well, you can't run from it, that's for sure. There are accounts of people trying, but it never works. No matter how far you run, it's always right there behind you."

"Nope. Even colder." Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong!

"All right, I give up, you tell me." Moorhouse sighed and set his book on the table.

"Mrs Pitt, the old woman who died." Moorhouse raised his eyebrows, confused. He then lowered them and picked up his book absently.

"She died of old age. Nothing supernatural."

"No. That's my answer." I leaned back in my chair and waited for a response.

"Her death?" Moorhouse asked, dumbfounded.

"No. The fact that you were here to witness it." Just after my words there was a commotion behind us. I stood up and began to walk towards the action.

"Excuse me, Professor." I departed and approached Quell.

"In which carriage?"

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P.O.V: Chef #2

The lights flickered in the kitchen. Stupid electricity!

"What is that?" Stumpy said, staring in horror at the empty space in front of him.

"What?" I asked, looking around.

"What is that?" Stumpy repeated, his eyes growing wider with fear. "Can't you see?"

After those words he began pushing around trolleys, trying to block something from getting to him it looked like.

"What are you talking about?" I asked him. What was he on?

"Get it away!" He shrieked, pushing pots and pans over in a desperate struggle to escape whatever he was seeing.

"There's nothing there!" I cried, watching him run in terror.

"Can't you see it?" He cried again.

"Calm down." Another chef, Bill, said slowly.

"Get it away! Get it away!" Stumpy grabbed a steak knife and began waving it around wildly.

"What's wrong with him?" Bill asked in horror.

"Get it away! Get it away!" Stumpy continued to shriek as he flailed around with the knife. He then opened the door to the freezer and shut himself inside, staring out through the window in terror.

"Get it away! Get it away!" He shrieked some more.

"What is going on?"

"Stumpy, open the door."

"Yeah, open the door!" We all tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't listen.

"Get out!"

Stumpy let out a cry of terror, and slunk to the floor.

"He's unhinged!"

"No! Stumpy!"

Soon afterwards we were all standing in a line in front of the Captain, as he laid down the law. Stumpy's body was being zipped up in a white body bag.

"It was a heart attack. And if I hear anyone spreading rumours to the contrary, they'll be getting off at the next station, termination papers in hand. Are we clear?"

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

P.O.V: Clara Oswald

I was trying to wire my way out of the room. When the door had shut behind us it had locked, and we weren't getting out.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Maisie asked. Good question.

"Nope. But I do need to be slightly more skilled than a high-heeled shoe." She chuckled, then sighed sadly.

"Do you ever wish bad things on people?" Uh-oh. I knew where this was going. I focused my eyes on the wires at hand.

"Oh, yeah. All the time. Whoever designed this door, for a start."

She paused. "She wasn't really my mum. She just made me call her that. She was my gran. Do you know why I wanted to see her body?"

I stopped fiddling with the wires. "Because you loved her very much and were missing her?"

She laughed softly."No. You obviously never met her. No, I just felt really guilty. Like I'd been picturing her dying for years. Like a daydream. Not really meaning it. At least, I don't think I did. But now, it just feels like I made this happen."

I abandoned the lock and went to her side. "Hey, listen. You didn't do anything wrong. Difficult people, they can make you feel all sorts of things. But you didn't do it. You didn't kill her. She just died."

She seemed to have a hard time with those words. "Are you sure about that?"

I didn't answer, but only because I turned my head slightly, and saw an unpleasant sight. It looked like a sarcophagus, with a large shiny oval where the head would be and a single, small, red light.