How to Attract a Time Lord (Doctor Who)

The Unquiet Dead Part 2

--

"Sir, what are we going to do with her?"

Mr. Sneed did not reply, only set the body carefully down.

Behind them, there was a thundering knock on the door, making both of them jump. The pair exchanged worried glances. Eyes locked, Mr. Sneed told Gwyneth, "Make them go away. Tell them we're closed." When Gwyneth didn't move, he frustratedly shouted, "DO SOMETHING!" and she briskly walked to the door.

Upon opening the door, she immediately declared, "I'm sorry, but we're closed." Gwyneth proceeded to look at the two men at the door, and held in a gasp.

"Nonsense! Since when does an undertaker have office hours? The dead don't die on schedule. I demand to see your master!" Charles Dickens scolded the woman standing before him, worry streaking her face.

"Uh. . .he's not in, sir," she gave him a half-smile before trying to close the door on him.

Dickens did not have a chance to move, however, because the Doctor pushed open the door and stepped over the threshold into the house. "I demand to see Tiffany," he ordered her, an determined, fiery look in his brown eyes. "And you know what I'm not particularly fond of? Liars and kidnappers." All it took was another second or so of him glaring down at her.

"Yes, sir," she nodded.

--

I awoke to find myself laying on a weird, silky tablecloth, which was on top of a small table about the size of a coffin in a room with quite ugly wallpaper. "Ugh, they need to get an interior designer in here," I observed, sitting up and scoping out the structure of the room so I could escape. Lots of candles. Ugly wallpaper. Beat-up wooden floor.

Then, I noticed the two open wooden caskets about four feet from my little table. I passed my eyes over them though, thinking they contained only empty space. A moaning sound started to come from the casket to my left. 

The same blue gas from the theater shot into the coffin of which the groaning was coming from. Arising from the coffin came a man, dressed for the time period, that looked like a slightly paler version of a human. His eyes were glazed over, and his irises were a creepy color of beige. I had no time to ponder this though, considering he was basically a zombie. Call me crazy, but I assumed he wanted to devour/bite/murder me. Just an idea though.

I jumped off my table and backed up, grabbing the nearest unlit candlestick. I would have taken a lit one, but the last thing I needed was to set the house on fire, which I probably would have accidentally ended up doing. I swung the candlestick at him, which made him stumble back a little, but not enough. 

I felt my back touch cold wood, and not taking my eyes off the man for more than a second, I jiggled the door handle. Locked. Like usual. 

The next thing I knew, an old woman sat up in the other casket, moaning like her male counterpart. It was the woman from the theater. I cursed under my breath, knowing I had a chance handling one, but most definitely not two. 

"This is like some messed-up version of Plants vs. Zombies or the Walking Dead or something," I said to myself, smiling as I chucked a pot at the man's chest, and then the woman's. I felt bad for potentially hurting them, but shoved it off as I realized I was kind of in a life-or-death situation here. Or more, a life-and-death situation. I laughed out loud at my own bad joke. "I'm so lame."

As they got closer and I began to run out of objects to hurl at them, my candlestick broke. "Okay," I yelled, to whoever could hear, I hoped, "a little help would be nice at the moment!"

--

"Okay, a little help would be nice at the moment!" My voice echoed through the halls. 

"That would be the one. Coming, Tiff!" the Doctor yelled back at me, before turning and sprinting towards the room I was contained in.