[Fonk]

The second one, the manga one, is cute. 🙂

[Fonk]

Uh-oh. Poor Jinn.

Great story, 'block! Thanks for posting. ;D

[Fonk]

NOTES

1) These characters are still not mine. They were created by Sydney Newman, C. E. Webber, Donald Wilson, Russell T. Davies and many others.

2) I've tried to make it as vague as possible, but in my mind, the Doctor I'm writing with is the David Tennant Doctor, not the Christopher Eccleston one. There are no spoilers for the David Tennant era in the story.

3) I'm sorry this has taken so long – work has just gotten mental.

4) Still no title!

5) While writing this story, I listened to the music of Junior Boys (So This Is Goodbye) and Darkel (Darkel).

Doctor Who Fan Fiction – Part 2

Rose dropped to the Doctor's side, eyes wide in shock and panic. She checked his pulse: it was dangerously slow, but it was still going. She breathed a sigh of relief, and turned to glare at his assailant. She was no longer there. With a surprising turn of speed for such a large creature, the titanic blonde had moved behind Rose. The Londoner screamed as the giantess clasped her hands together and bound them with rope.

"Oi!" Rose cried. "What's your game?" The musclewoman's forehead crinkled with the effort of thought.

"Do not understand," she rumbled. With that, she moved to Rose's feet and bound them quickly and efficiently. Rose struggled against her bonds, but it was no use.

"I take you to Queen Sophia. She know what do," the Amazon said, almost to herself. She bent down, muscles moving like the workings of some perfect engine, to pick the pair up. She slung the Londoner over one shoulder and the Doctor over another, and moved off. Rose shouted and screamed herself hoarse. The inhumanoid began to pick up pace, and the 19-year-old found herself bouncing uncomfortably. The first time the enormous woman leapt into the air, Rose was accordingly pushed up too. Her head came down, hard, on the musclewoman's strong shoulder. Rose Tyler blacked out.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

The Doctor awoke. A dull pain throbbed through the side of his head, its echoes bouncing around his body madly.

"I tell you what, Rose," he began, rubbing his head, "I ignored the Number One rule there: never trust a person who doesn't use articles in their speech." The Time Lord opened his eyes, expecting a giggle or at least a question about articles, but Rose was nowhere to be seen. He was lying, unbound, on a white tiled floor. The ceiling too was made of white tiles, along with the walls. They seemed to be glowing internally. The Doctor shielded his eyes as the light intensified. He looked around to get a feel for the place. One of the walls was set much further back than the others and it featured a door. The Doctor stood and was about to make his way towards it when he spotted something shimmering in the air in front of him.

Reaching inside his jacket, the Time Lord removed his trusty sonic screwdriver. He aimed it at the nearly invisible object and pushed the button. It was made of some kind of electrical energy. Methodically the Doctor traced the shape of the thing he'd seen in the air. It turned out to be a thin cylinder which ran from the floor to the ceiling. The Time Lord frowned: there were others. It was a few moments work and, when he'd finished, the Doctor realised he'd traced the bars of his prison.

"Hello!" he called out, stashing the screwdriver. "I'm awake now! I'm ready to talk!" There was no response. "Hello!" he tried again, and waved at no-one in particular. "Hello?" Still nothing. "Oh well," the Doctor shrugged to himself. He settled into a corner of the cell, fished in a pocket and brought out a packet of Jelly Babies. He selected a black one and threw it into his mouth.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

The Doctor slept fitfully on the prison floor. He awoke with a start from one of these unsatisfying naps to find a woman standing over him. She was nothing like the gargantuan humanoid who'd hit him; in fact, she was no bigger than Rose. She wore a tightly buttoned-down white lab coat over business-like black trousers and overly sensible shoes. She held a tiny object in her hand which was the size of a compact mirror.  Her hair was brown and hung in waves from her head to just below her shoulders. Her eyes were jet black, set slightly too far back in a stern face. The Doctor shuddered internally. Externally, he sprang to his feet, all smiles.

"Hello!" he said enthusiastically. The woman took a step back. "I'm the Doctor. Could I ask what's going on here?" The woman gave a cruel half-smile.

"You are a man," she said, almost spitting the last word. The Doctor opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again.

"Yes indeed," he said, deciding owning up straightaway might be the best policy. "Is that… a crime?" To the Doctor's horror, the woman nodded.

"We have outlawed men on this planet," she replied. "In due course you will be executed."

"What, without a trial?" the Time Lord spluttered. The woman laughed.

"There is no need for a trial," she crowed. "You are a man. You are already guilty. The punishment is death." Something clicked inside the Doctor's mind. He decided to change tack slightly, signalling this with a broad grin.

"If you don't mind a lowly man such as myself asking you, Milady," he began, "what year is this?" The woman frowned.

"It is the year 5382," she answered, her patience thinning. The Doctor shut his eyes and slumped against the wall. His fears had been confirmed.

"I'm on Fertania, aren't I," he said. It wasn't a question.

"Yes," the woman replied.

"A planet colonised by a sect of women who believe that men are superfluous."

"Yes."

"Any men found on Fertania are killed without exception."

"Yes."

"I, in fact, should have woken up to find myself dead." The woman's forehead crinkled slightly at this strange turn of phrase.

"Yes."

"Except, obviously, I'm not. Why?"

"You are unique."

"Yes."

"Yes."

"Yes. And that makes me valuable."

"Oh yes."

"But you said I was to be executed." The woman sneered at this apparent flaw in the logic.

"We are to get all the information we can from you. For example, our defense systems automatically destroy any ship within a certain range that is found to have a man aboard. How is it that you were able to land here?" There was a long pause.

"Would you believe, by a literally zillions – if not trillions, whichever one is bigger – to one chance?" The woman snarled and approached the glowing bars of the Doctor's prison.

"No," she said coldly. "I would not." The Doctor decided to ask the question that had been plaguing him for hours.

"There was a woman with me when I landed," he said casually. "She's not here now. Where is she?"

"Your concubine – " The Doctor burst out laughing. "Your companion, if you prefer," the woman continued, eyebrow arched, "is in good hands."

"I don't doubt it," the Time Lord countered, when he had snorted away the last of his laughter, "but I would much prefer it if she were by my side. Much. And," he added, "she is neither companion nor concubine. She's my equal." The Doctor's tormentor bristled.

"When a man is in the presence of a woman, he may say that they are equal," she began, "but the man believes himself superior. Always." The Doctor considered this.

"I am superior," he admitted. "And still I say she is my equal. She is brave, strong and resourceful."

"Your words do not impress me," the woman sneered.

"But they're true," the Doctor whispered. The woman rolled her eyes, having lost patience. She turned smartly on her heel and headed towards the door. Knowing it was useless in advance, the Time Lord didn't try to stop her. She paused in the doorway, turning to speak to him again.

"Your words mean nothing," she spat. "Less than nothing. You are a man. You will lie, deceive, cheat and steal." The Doctor chanced his arm.

"Whereas women stopped doing those things centuries ago?"

"Arrogance and petulance," the woman said, drawing herself up to her full height. "Your true colours coming through. The women of this planet are punished in a rather… unique way if they are caught breaking our laws." The Doctor frowned. History hadn't recorded anything on Fertanian punishments. "I am Sophia, Queen of Fertania," she announced simply. "Know my name, so that when I kill you, you can take it with you to the depths of hell that spawned you." On that note, she left the room.

"Charming," the Doctor muttered.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Rose came round. She blinked groggily and shook her head to try and get some life into her brain. The Londoner looked around: she was lying down on a contraption like a dentist's chair, only her arms and legs were held in place by thick metal clamps. Knowing it was useless in advance, Rose struggled, but there was no give in the cold metal. Slightly panicked, she looked around wildly for the Doctor. He was nowhere to be seen. The more the 19-year-old saw of the room, the more panic took a sweaty grip of her mind. It was a cold place, with the same white walls that made up the Doctor's prison. There was a metal trolley to Rose's left, with various medical instruments laid out on top. More worryingly, there was a device like a science-fiction laser cannon hanging from the ceiling, primed to fire straight at her head. It reminded her, oddly, of that James Bond film that her and her Mum had seen one Boxing Day. Other than that, and a door at the end of the room Rose was facing, it was empty.

Rose screamed for the Doctor, but no sound came out. She wriggled and struggled with all her strength, shouting at what she thought would be the top of her lungs. Still no sound. Then the door opened. A couple of women walked in, both dressed in buttoned-down white lab coats. The one on Rose's right was slightly taller, her brown hair drawn back into an ugly bun. The one on the left wore glasses, and her long ginger hair was drawn into a ponytail.

"Interesting," the brunette sneered, standing over the prone Londoner. "Though the subject must by now be aware that she cannot speak, she still tries to do so." She leaned closer until her thin lips were level with Rose's ear. "We injected what is effectively a sedative into the speech centre of your brain. You will be unable to talk for another two hours." Rose tried to look defiant as the woman's voice dropped to a whisper. "The screaming disturbed some of the nurses so." The redhead spoke for the first time.

"We are ready, Mistress," she said quietly.

"Then let us begin," the brunette said, straightening up and moving out of the way of the cannon. The redhead threw a switch on the side of the cannon, which began to hum ominously, lights flickering along its length. A very fine white beam shot from it straight into Rose's forehead. Slowly it made its way down her body. However, as it swept down the Londoner's frame, it didn't hurt. If anything, it tickled Rose as it progressed down her torso to her pelvis. Once the beam had traced a line down the middle of Rose's form, it stopped. The cannon slowly whirred and clicked into silence.

Rose wanted to say "Is that it?" but knew she couldn't. The two women moved together again at Rose's feet. The brunette smiled wickedly, but the redhead looked a little queasy.

"Goodbye, Rose Tyler," the brown-haired woman sneered. "When we return, there will be nothing left of you." On that chilling note, the two women turned and left the room. Rose heard a click and guessed, correctly, that the door had been locked. There was a second click. The Londoner watched in amazement as the metal bonds receded into four separate compartments in the chair with efficient and satisfying clunks. She paused uncertainly, wondering what sort of trick this could be. The beam hadn't done anything and here she was, being released. Deciding that the beam was configured for some sort of alien and thus didn't affect humans, Rose swung her legs off the chair and stood up. She felt a little shaky, but managed to stay upright.

Then she felt something in her body. A surge of power. Frowning, Rose looked down at herself. Nothing appeared to have happened. She felt it again, stronger this time. The third wave brought the 19-year-old to her knees on the strangely white floor. Slowly Rose brought her arms up in front of her face and saw that they were expanding. In fact, she could now feel her whole body changing and growing. Rose's frown turned to horror.

— To Be Continued —

[Fonk]

I really like this. Sort of a Tales From The Crypt style FMG. Thanks for sharing! ;D

[Fonk]

Faboo! Thanks for posting. ;D

[Fonk]

Great shout-out to the end of "The Howling." 

I've never seen "The Howling". 😀

I've put the story on Brawna, here, with a few of the edges polished.

Thanks for all the kind feedback, everyone! ;D

[Fonk]

That's lovely. Very artistic, very stylish. Thanks for posting! 😀

[Fonk]

That is simply awesome. It should be framed and in a gallery somewhere. 😮

[Fonk]

Your art, as ever, rocks. Thanks for sharing these brilliant works. ;D

[Fonk]

Oh, no! Good luck Michelle!

Please don't be a muscle girl cut down in your prime. 🙁

[Author]

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