Chapter Text
“Run,” he shouted. “Run and don't look back.”
“If you look back; if your eyes meet,”
“You're done.”
We were sprinting. I don’t know how I got here, being pulled along by this strange man in his funny little suit. He was pointing something at the door now. Trying to wiggle it open.
“What?” I repeat
“Angels. Weeping angels. Or rather, they were. Someone’s changed them and I don’t know how. That’s what I'm trying to figure out. Picked up the signal with this,” He wiggled the thing in his hand towards me. He was still trying the lock.
“Come on. Come on!” I blink, but the man is still there. I think I'm hallucinating.
“Ha!” he cries triumphantly, and drags me through the newly opened door. “Thats what it was, wrong setting,” He’s whacking the thing with his palm, “I knew I should have updated this,” “stupid thing.”
“Again,” I repeat. “What?”
“Ah,” he says. “I’m the Doctor.”
“The Doctor?” He spins to me grinning broadly.
“Yes,” he’s still grinning. “And you are?”
“Max,” I’m confused.
“Hello Max no last-name,” There’s shuffling behind the door. He grabs my wrist, “Time to go!”
“What the fuck?” I think I'm losing my mind. “So, why can’t I look behind me?”
“Oh! That’s the question!” He glances back.
“I think you’ll turn to stone,”
“Again, what the fuck?” I want to stop running, but he’s still dragging me behind him. He pushes open the exit door before turning to slam it shut behind me. He zaps it with his pen thing from earlier. It buzzes.
“Sorry about that,” he says. Not even out of breath after all that running. “You should be good now, I locked them in.”
“Well then Max no-name. It was nice to meet you but I’d best be off. I’ll blow the building in a minute, no more angels, and then you can go back to your beans on toast.” His face screws up at that. “Beans on toast.” He mutters, “Why ever would they put beans on toast?”
“That’s very… British.”
“Are you not british?”
I start. “Why would I be british?”
“Are we not in england?”
“No?”
“Huh. I thought I was in England, that’s usually where I end up. It’s there or Wales.”
“Bud, you’re in Minnesota.” I stare.
“Crikey, Minnesota,” He presses his palm to his forehead and scrunches up his face. “How’d I end up here?”
“By plane probably.” I say.
“I wonder if she needs maintenance? It’s obvious something was going on here though; maybe she’s just being stubborn.” He’s talking to himself. It looks like I’m not the only mad one here now.
He turns to me, his fingers running through his hair, then pauses. “If you’re not British, then why do you have an accent?”
I somehow get even more confused. “I don’t.”
I’m looking at him suspiciously. Although now he seems confused too.
“But you do!” He insists.
I just keep staring. “What?”
“Your accent.” He’s staring back.
I raise one eyebrow and purse my lips. But then it dawns on me. “Oh,”
“What? What is it?” He’s somehow looking even more intensely than before.
I flatten my expression out. “I must be mirroring. It’s unintentional, I’ll try to stop. Sorry.” I want to bang my head into the wall.
Now he looks concerned. “That’s a word I haven’t heard before. Are you going to be alright?”
It’s my turn to look confused again.
His expression turns sheepish. “Is it not a bad thing then?”
I shake my head no. “Nope, just annoying and unintentional and unintentionally annoying.”
“Ha” He huffs. “Okay then, I’ll be going now Max no-name. And you should too, before this place blows.” He turns from me and starts walking away, rambling. I decide to follow behind, see where this madman is going. “Wouldn’t want to chance seeing another new angel through the window either. Nasty lot those are normally. This is shaping up to be quite a mystery.” He seems giddy at the thought.
He turns into an alley and stops before a blue box, then turns back to me. Seemingly now noticing that I had followed behind. “By the way, I meant it when I said you should get out of here. That place is going to blow.” He spins around and strides into his blue box, slamming the door shut. If this building really is going to blow, this idiot is going to get himself killed. It’s a wooden box.
There’s a foreboding feeling, and something hisses before I’m yanked into the box and the door slams (again) behind me.