Burning Stars {A Doctor Who Fan Fiction} [REWRITE IN PROGRESS!]

Chapter 30

Navigating shadows had become Annabelle's area of expertise in the past two years.

Christmas was quickly approaching 1892. She supposed it was meant to be cheery and bright, but there she was, hiding in the darkness, tracking down a suspicious old miser. A twist on A Christmas Carol, mostly.

The people flitting around made her weary. They were all, presumably, picking out gifts and trinkets for their loved ones, and that had been enough to send her into hysterics two years ago. It had been the last thing she had ever planned to do with Harley.

He wasn't on her mind then, with his letter - addressed to one BP in shaky writing - collecting dust in its box in her room, under her bed, in the TARDIS. Then, in the present, she was on a mission.

Annabelle nearly missed the place with the short mental distraction. Away from prying eyes, she scaled a drain pipe, and carefully crawled up the slanted side of the roof.

Below her, men milled about, the sight of their threadbare clothes enough to make her shiver. At least they weren't laid up in a sheet of snow, wind blowing more harshly with the height of the building.

Peering over the edge of the roof, right where the two slanted sides met, she could just see her client. Dr. Walter Simeon, 58. Head of the Great Intelligence Institute, commonly known as GI. Pinned down for the disappearances of several sets of men from the poorer parts of town.

"Beg pardon, Doctor Simeon," one of the men called. "It's been a long day. I don't see any food here."

"I do." Simeon's short response sent another wave of cold through Annabelle. Hundreds of thoughts crammed their way into her subconscious all at once - cannibalism? Murder... of course, murder. How else would the men disappear? She shook her head at the innocent thought of Simeon simply inviting them into his house.

Snow started crunching down on the ground before the balcony Simeon stood upon. It wasn't the right sound for snow under boots, but more like the sound of snow being packed together to form something.

Quick successions of shouts and yelps persuaded her into leaning even further over the rooftop. She stopped once she had a view of the courtyard - and when the snow threatened to let her slip down to the ground.

Snowmen were the only things that confused her then.

Snowmen everywhere; littering the courtyard, coincidentally cornering each man. "What is this?" the same worker from before asked, sounding more angry than frightened.

Annabelle inspected the snowmen as best she could from her vantage point, with their razor-sharp teeth and evil grins. She was supposed to be feeling sorry for the workers, but she was getting excited once again. Killer snowmen.

She slid back down the roof gently, wincing at the particular screams of some men. She wondered if Simeon had caught sight of her, and what he would have made of a child snooping around on a roof above him.

But her thoughts turned directly to the snowmen once she was back on the ground. They seemed to be conscious beings, controlled solely by Simeon. Just as she turned a corner, she held back a shriek.

Someone pushed their hand onto her shoulder, keeping her in place. Annabelle struggled, glaring at the group of street-boys before her.

"What's the hurry?" the one holding her in place asked tauntingly.

Annabelle didn't answer, instead lashing out. He chuckled, missing her kicks by mere centimeters. She stopped almost immediately, assessing every inch of space surround them. Save your tricks 'til they're distracted - they won't see it coming.