The Lost Series (A Doctor Who fanfiction) - 'Episodes '1-4

'Episode' 3 SiN (Intro)

By candlelight Father McClellan knelt before the altar. He thought he would never live to see the end of this war and he whispered quiet prayers in the silence of the dark empty church.

The candles on the alter casting long shadows against the old bare stone walls. A brilliant white flash filled the sky outside suddenly illuminating the scene coupled with an odd fierce echoing rumble.

Father McClellan jumped to his feet, heart pounding. A bomb? He listened holding his breath, straining to hear the sound of German planes….

nothing.

A quiet dripping turned his attention to the long arched windows.

Rain.

Just rain.

A passing storm.

He breathed a sigh of relief, sitting once again on the steps before the altar.

As he continued his prayers he didn’t notice the small droplets on the window begin to slide together to form a puddle in the centre of the stained glass. The puddle stretched itself into a long thin shape and began to slide away like a snake, sliding silently across the glass and out of sight.

“O father, lead the souls of the men who fought for our noble country into the grace and mercy of heaven. Let your son, Jesus Christ, open all our hearts and fill us with the strength to rebuild our beloved nation. Thank you for this peace heavenly father, may the saintly-” Father McClellan paused and turned as he felt the edge of his trousers growing damp.

From the door to where he knelt was a fingertip deep stream of water glinting in the candlelight, filling the aisle as if the pews were ornate river banks. He looked at it with confusion that turned into shock as the stream sucked itself inwards. Gathereing itself into a great puddle in the middle of the aisle.

"What-?"The father whispered, getting to his feet and slowly walking towards the puddle. He knelt down, looking over it, his reflection staring back up at him. Theconfused expression he wore mirrored in the clear surface, He dabbe dit with hid finger, just to make sure he wasn't having a funny turn.

No, it was absolutely there. This odd puddle of water.

He siged to imself. Thinking about mopping it up and ran a hand over his face-perhaps all the sleepless nights were catching up with him.

Then in the centre of the puddle, a tiny whirlpool formed, growing bigger and bigger until it began stretch upwards, a towering spire of spinning water.  The seemingly solid liquid formed itself into a crystal clear eyeless serpent. A great mouth split open sending bubbles of air into the large body. Silently it swayed for a moment above him before it struck.

Father McClellans’ screams echoed on the walls as the shadows saw this great monster descend upon him.........