Doctor Who: The Internet Adventures - #9
Chapter 11 - by Joel Aarons

In last week's chilling episode:

As the cries of indignation faded down the corridor, the blond
man wondered just how long it would take he and the other members
of the Rutan Collective to learn the secrets of the Doctor. There were
only four Rutans on Earth at present, but any more would have drawn
suspicion from an already suspicious secret organization.
He sighed a strangely electronic sigh. His other half was
returning with the human boy picked up by UNIT. They'd put him
into the Darkhouse too. Once they were finished with him.

No one ever left the Darkhouse.


Tim Matheson, blindfolded, gagged, tired, scared, hungry, totally terrified,
and, until recently, unconscious, found waking up a distinctly unpleasant
experience. He took a few moments to try and access his situation. Oh yes,
his hands were bound, his head hurt , and he was totally terrified - oh, he
had already thought that. His hands felt around the ropes that bound his
hands. It was strong rope, but tied in pretty half-hearted way. Tim tried
not to let himself get too excited as he worked steadily on the rope,
focussing on nothing else, until the last of the rope was thrown to the
floor. Removing his gag and his blindfold quickly, his fear soon returned -
and Tim failed in his will not to scream. The sound was loud, piercing and
totally normal - under the circumstances.


Browning and Booth were first marched out of the office, across the grounds,
and into a van. One of the soldiers climbed in the driver's seat, and the
van lurched off. Neither had any idea where they were headed - the windows
were blacked out, and the radio was turned up loud so no clues could be
given. Browning found the actual driving interesting, though. It was careful
and methodical. It was like driving with someone who just gotten their license.
After two hours, the van stopped, and Browning and Booth found themselves in
the middle of a wood. The men got out, still with their rifles pointing at
them, and waited for the driver.

Browning struggled not to let herself be intimidated by these thugs. Despite
herself, she found the whole covert operation facinating. Whatever it was
that she stumbled on to, was obviously some kind of top secret project,
possibly some kind of genetic manipulation. This whole act only aroused her
curiosity even more.

She looked over at Booth. The big man wasn't quite as amiable. He was
sweating, and looked extremely uncomfortable. Browning looked back to the
troops, and as the blonde man walked up, she opened her mouth to say
something, but a rifle raised at the same moment a millimetre from her
temple, and she decided perhaps it would be better to stay silent for now.

The driver reached into an inside pocket of his jacket and produced a black
crystal. He silently showed it to his two captors. It was definitely a
crystal, or some kind of intricate glass. Browning noticed the sun never
glittered on its surface - as if the sun was repelled by it. It was no shape
that she could define. It was uncut. On top was a small metal grenade pin.
Booth was terrified, but Browning doubted they'd come all this way to be
blown up. The man smiled slightly, pulled out the pin and tossed the crystal
straight up in the air.

The crystal shot up, emitting a brillant flash, and expanded - it was the
only way Browning could describe it. It became what looked like a solid flat
black object, tumbling to the ground. It fell perfectly on the ground, and
stood straight and tall, like a door. With a chill, Browning thought that
was exactly what it was.

"The Darkhouse." stated the driver simply. "Please . . ." He indicated that
the two should step through. Booth looked from right to left, like a
frightened mouse. He made to run off, but a shot rang out, and the big man
thudded down on the rock, shot between the eyes.

Browning screamed, but another rifle aimed in her direction stopped her. Her
mind a turmoil, she walked hesitantly over to the black door. She turned to
look at the men, and as she did so a hand reached out from the black void in
front of her and pulled her in. With a scream, she vanished inside. The
driver, fingering the pin in his hand, silently ordered the troops back to
the van. He flicked the pin into the void, and with a blinding flash, the
door contracted again into the crystal, with the pin sticking out again.
Pocketing the crystal, he made on after the men.


Total blackness, total darkness. Tim hugged himself tightly. He could not
see around him, he could not see himself, he was virtually blind . . . God,
what if he were blind? And if this wasn't enough to frighten him, a piercing
scream envoloped the darkness. Tim walked tentitvely on, feeling his way
around. There was nothing for him to touch, nothing seemed real apart from
himself, and the floor. But then, he had been wrong before . . .