A large chamber stood with two guards in front. Cybermen were smart, but they were only software and preserved flesh. Tucker crawled over the snow, still unaware as to how cold it was. He almost slithered past the guards, in between the steel poles, and disappeared into the darkness. He stopped the moment he heard something. "Help me!" It sounded like River! Tucker raced down the dark hallway toward a dim light. Another voice piped up, "No more escapes for you. You're going to the hard cell." The masculine hiss matched the one from the audio recording. Complete silence. Suddenly, a shadow loomed in the open doorway, and a hideous creature stepped out. It wore a hood over it's hunching body. A dark cape dragged on the floor to match the cloak and hood. It paused after a step or two from the opening, sniffed, and walked on, into the depths of the hall. Tucker thought he had been caught for a moment, and carefully let the air from his lungs. "River!" He whispered, not turning all the way around the corner. No response. "River Song!" Still nothing. He didn't want to go all the way in because he thought of other guards being there. "Riverrr!" The unsettling quiet that came from the room didn't change. He mustered up enough courage to walk in. He was right to be afraid, but not of any guards. River's body had been tied to a chair, her hands clipped behind her back. A thin, soundproof cup covered her mouth, and was clotted with a blue-gray gas. One eye was open, the other closed. A fine-pointed blade was forced through her chest. A large set of stab wounds surrounded it, making it hard to count exactly how many were there. She was obviously dead, but struggled all the while. She couldn't just regenerate? Like she had before? Tucker gagged at the sight and had to turn away. He couldn't believe it. He just couldn't. Racing back through the hall at top speed, the adrenaline started rushing again. He couldn't feel the cold hit his face as he darted through the gate slits and into the snow. A snowstorm was kicking up. He had to get back to the TARDIS before he froze-or worse:caught by the Cybermen. The thought of River being brutally murdered clouded his mind, and he stopped. The ship that stood before him seemed the same, but something was different. He slowly pushed open the door, only to see the Doctor laying over the console in his leather chair. A choking feeling overwhelmed Tucker, but then relaxed when he saw his chest rise and fall. Sleeping. A blanket was draped over one side of the railing up the stairs. The Dalek grabbed it and flung it over the Doctor. The paintbrush still sat on the floor, dry now, and he picked it up. Dipping the brush back into the paint made him only feel worse, so he did something else that was useful, and painted his suit. "Blue would suit me better," he joked, pressing the brush against the armor.
