Torchwood Institute, Harry Lockhart’s Personal Log: 22.3.43
Project: Lightning
“Today, after six solid weeks of observing the surrounding area, we managed to contain her. I say contain - she’s not contained any longer, but for ten solid minutes we trapped her like a moth trapped in a lamp. We were not able to fully communicate with her, and my colleague, Miss Wilkins, was only able to ascertain certain words from the child’s mouth. A long time ago I would have obliged the child, but in this darker world words like “Help” don’t always mean a lot.
And then like a candle being extinguished she was gone again. Miss Wilkins and myself will continue to watch for her.”
The Doctor and Mary had made a left turning from the usual track. Here the woods were denser and the tree canopies seemed to block out even more of the already darkening sky. Mary was starting to feel chilly and she had to un-snag her dress from even more twigs and bushes.
“This dress is ruined,” she said, sighing.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” said the Doctor.
Mary arched her eyebrows, but continued to follow him, trying to also ignore the scratches on her legs and the ladders in her stockings.
“So are you actually going to continue?” asked Mary.
“Continue?” said the Doctor as they approached a small stream.
“You said you knew recognised the name Kettleworth Woods and that I wouldn’t like it. Then we turned and you didn’t say another word. I mean how long does a girl have to wait for a conversation to continue?”
The Doctor crouched down and looked into the stream. He seemed to be staring at his own reflection in the still, dark water. He frowned at himself and then shook his head, blinking rapidly.
“We need to go across.”
“And how do we do that?” asked Mary.
“We jump of course,” said the Doctor.
“Me? Jump? In these stockings and shoes?”
The Doctor looked down at her dainty little black shoes. “Yes, I can’t say that you chose the best footwear for a trek into the woods.”
“Let me correct you,” said Mary, “a trek down a well-beaten trail into the woods. I didn’t expect to be clambering through all of this.”
“The well-walked path is always boring,” smiled the Doctor, “this is much more fun.”
“Oh, I like a good adventure,” said Mary, “but I like to be dressed for it. A good pair of trousers and a cardigan.”
“Love a nice cardigan,” said the Doctor, edging closer to the edge. “It’s not a great distance. About five foot. I reckon we could jump it.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“If we’re to get to where I think we need to get to then yes, we need to jump it. I assume this stream leads to the lake?”
“Yes. We could follow and go around.”
“That’d take a lot longer.” He scratched his head and then jumped up and down on the spot. “We need to get across now.”
“So what do we do, take a run and jump?” asked Mary, looking from side to side.
“You took the words right out of my mouth.”
There wasn’t much clear land around the banks of the lake, but there was enough for the Doctor to get a good run. He just hoped his untested legs would make it. He hadn’t tried running yet. Swimming, yes, but running…well, it was something he always seemed to be doing anyway so he really needed to get these new legs up to speed.
Mary stepped back as the Doctor backed up, closed his eyes, mumbled something - she assumed a quick prayer - and then sprinted forward. For a moment she thought he was going to run straight into the lake, but instead he leapt into the air, sailing over the stream and landing on the other side with relative ease.
He steadied himself and turned to face her, a grin on his face.
“You made it look easy,” said Mary, frowning and looking down at the river.
“I’ll catch you,” said the Doctor.
“If an older gentleman like yourself can make it across then I’m sure I can.”
But Mary realised that the Doctor wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was in fact looking past her. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and those familiar goose pimples reared their heads again.
“What is it?” she said, slowly turning around.
She realised it had gotten dark now and very, very cold. She gasped. Standing right in front of her was the little ghost girl, her face glowing once again.
“Mary, don’t panic.”
Mary daren’t blink. She daren’t move as the ghost girl held out a hand towards her. She could hear a faint crackling sound coming from her and could hear her voice, but it sounded faint, almost as if it was lost on the wind.
The ghost girl jerked forward and Mary stepped back. Her foot slipped on the muddy bank and she fell back towards the river.
She felt the back of her head hit something as she hit the water and then everything went blurry.
At the bottom of Kettleworth Lake a lump of black smouldering coral lay amongst the silt and the dirt. The water down here was murky and dark and in amongst the coral was a dead, cracked crystal. And then, inexplicably, a faint orange light glimmered from within the crystal…
“Mary…”
She opened her eyes. She was lying down on the ground. It was freezing cold and she could hear thunder in the distance. The ground was a little damp - it had been raining - and she was covered over by her father’s old mac. She could still smell his cigars on it and she floated back to memories of playing at the bottom of his armchair whilst he told her stories of dragons and fairytales.
“Mary.”
Mary’s eyes focused on where the sound was coming. A blurred figure wearing a grey tweed suit and a green tank top. Had he come back to her?
“Daddy…” she murmured.
“I’m afraid not, Miss Auckland,” said the Doctor.
He came into focus and her heart sank. No, it wasn’t him at all. He was still lost to her.
“What happened?” she asked, feeling the pain at the back of her head throb.
“You fell into the river and banged your head. Luckily I was able to reach in and drag you out.”
“I’m soaking wet,” she realised, her dress clinging to her.
“And you’ll catch your death if we don’t get you inside.”
Mary shivered and tried to look around her. They were underneath some trees next to what looked like the entrance to a stone bunker. “Where are we?”
“We’re at the reason why I remembered the name of Kettleworth Woods,” said the Doctor, looking up at the ominous structure. “The Torchwood Institute.”
The Doctor helped Mary to her feet and held her closely to keep her warm. She normally would have felt uncomfortable being held this way, but she was too cold to care. He led her to an iron double door. He ran his hand along the old door and pointed to a white logo - the outline of a hart with a hole in the centre.
“What’s the Torchwood institute?” asked Mary, trying to stop her teeth from chattering.
“All in good time,” said the Doctor. “Let’s get you in first.”
The door was bolted with a large, iron bar. He pulled a strange, cylindrical device, not much longer than a pen, from his jacket pocket and aimed it at the bar. It made a high-pitched whirring sound and slowly the bar began to slide across.
Mary felt too groggy to even question what he was doing as the bar fell away and the Doctor pulled the doors open.
Inside was dark and dingy and the Doctor had to use a torch to light their way. A set of steps led down under the ground and to a long, dark corridor built with grey breeze blocks. At the end of the corridor was another set of double doors covered in cobwebs.
“This place hasn’t been used in years,” said the Doctor, shining his torch around.
They opened the double doors until they were standing in what looked like a disused laboratory. Half of the room was covered in paperwork and hastily cleared filing cabinets and furniture. On the far side of the room was a window that looked in on an empty chamber.
The Doctor spotted an upturned chair and guided Mary over to it. He took off his jacket and put it around Mary.
“What is this place?” she asked.
“It’s a lab,” said the Doctor, sadly. “A lab for conducting scientific experiments.”
“So you’ve heard of the Torchwood Institute before then?”
“Oh yes!” He picked up a clipboard. It showed a black and white photograph of the glowing ghost girl. “The Torchwood Institute was formed during the late 1800’s. They used to hunt down aliens and use their tech to help the Human Race. They had four main bases of operations but also operated out of satellite locations. I remember Kettleworth Woods as being one of their testing grounds. During the war they did everything they could to combat the Nazi threat. Bad things happened. Incredibly bad things.”
“Sounds a bit strange,” said Mary, shivering and pulling the jacket tighter around her. “I suppose it’s hard to imagine a world were bad things were done to help win a war.”
“Bad things are always being done to win wars,” said the Doctor. “The good guys don’t always do good things.”
He passed her the clipboard with the picture. “Here you go. Patient 475X. Our ghost girl.”
“It’s a photograph of her,” said Mary, wide-eyed.
“It looks like they trapped her in that room. Flip through it,” said the Doctor, turning to face the room. “There’s a whole load of notes on her.”
“But…what is she?” asked Mary, turning through the pages. “There’s nothing about where she came from.”
“Except that she arrives when the weather turns bad.” He turned back to Mary and looked again at the photo. “That’s interesting.”
“What is?” asked Mary.
“Look at her dress.”
Mary peered down at the grainy black and white photograph. “Oh yes,” she said. “It has some sort of black triangle in the top left corner.”
“I recognise that symbol,” said the Doctor. “And it’s all starting to piece together now.”
“Well don’t keep me in suspense,” said Mary.
“The black symbol is the medical symbol for a group of…well, let’s call them refugees.”
“From where?”
“Yes…well, this you may find a little harder to accept.”
“Doctor, I’ve seen this ghost girl two times today. I think I can handle more surprises.”
“They’re refugees from another planet.”
Mary didn’t respond.
“How do you feel?”
“I can maybe accept ghosts, Doctor, but not beings from other worlds.”
“Well you can choose to accept or deny it, but that black symbol means the little girl belonged to this group of refugees. The name of the planet doesn’t matter and neither does the reason they were refugees. What matters is that somehow she has become trapped here on this world.”
“And she needs our help.”
“Yes,” said the Doctor. “Regardless of where she comes from, she needs our help.”
Sometime ago…
“My name is Captain Jericho. This may well be the last log I ever record for this ship. We are under attack once again. We have travelled such a distance and have lost so many along the way. Our crew used to number in their hundreds. Only twenty souls remain onboard this ship now.
We managed to access to the vortex and we are now approaching a small, low-developed planet in the Sol system. It seems to be capable of providing safe refuge for us. We have little choice anyway. Our ship is crippled beyond repair and I must get my people to the planet below. The first to evacuate will be the sick and the injured.”
Captain Jericho made his way along the once-gleaming white corridor of the starship Fellfall until he reached the medi-bay. The medi-bay was lined with beds, each of them occupied, but on one of them lay a pretty blonde girl in a white medical gown. She looked to be in some distress.
“How are you feeling, Kyla?” asked Jericho.
She turned and looked at him. “I feel ill, Daddy.”
“I know you do, sweetheart,” he said, wiping the sweat off his furrowed brow as the starship shook again. “We have found a planet.”
“But they’re looking for us. They’re going to find us.”
“We can hide amongst the people, Kyla,” said Jericho. He clasped her hands in his. “We can hide from them and live our lives.”
Kyla cried out in pain and clutched at her stomach. “I can feel it coming.”
“Then you have to let it happen.”
“But I’m too young. I don’t want to go through with it. I’m frightened.”
“Listen to me, Kyla.” He edged closer and smiled at her. “When I made the deal to get you altered I did it so I could keep you safe.”
“But it might not work. What if I look horrible? What if you don’t love me anymore.”
“Oh, Kyla,” he said, brushing her hair out of her face and kissing her on the forehead. “I will always love you. No matter what.”
“I’m scared, Daddy.”
“I know. So am I.” The ship shook again. “But we need to teleport you and the other sick people down to the planet right now.” He sat her up. “And you, sweetheart…you need to change.”
Kyla nodded as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Will you come with me Daddy?”
“Yes, eventually,” said Jericho. “But I’ve got to make sure everyone else is safe first.” He helped her off the bed and then lifted her into his arms. He looked down into her blue eyes as he noticed her skin starting to glow a faint orange. “And no matter what happens, Kyla, you must regenerate. You must regenerate!”
Project: Lightning
“Today, after six solid weeks of observing the surrounding area, we managed to contain her. I say contain - she’s not contained any longer, but for ten solid minutes we trapped her like a moth trapped in a lamp. We were not able to fully communicate with her, and my colleague, Miss Wilkins, was only able to ascertain certain words from the child’s mouth. A long time ago I would have obliged the child, but in this darker world words like “Help” don’t always mean a lot.
And then like a candle being extinguished she was gone again. Miss Wilkins and myself will continue to watch for her.”
The Doctor and Mary had made a left turning from the usual track. Here the woods were denser and the tree canopies seemed to block out even more of the already darkening sky. Mary was starting to feel chilly and she had to un-snag her dress from even more twigs and bushes.
“This dress is ruined,” she said, sighing.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” said the Doctor.
Mary arched her eyebrows, but continued to follow him, trying to also ignore the scratches on her legs and the ladders in her stockings.
“So are you actually going to continue?” asked Mary.
“Continue?” said the Doctor as they approached a small stream.
“You said you knew recognised the name Kettleworth Woods and that I wouldn’t like it. Then we turned and you didn’t say another word. I mean how long does a girl have to wait for a conversation to continue?”
The Doctor crouched down and looked into the stream. He seemed to be staring at his own reflection in the still, dark water. He frowned at himself and then shook his head, blinking rapidly.
“We need to go across.”
“And how do we do that?” asked Mary.
“We jump of course,” said the Doctor.
“Me? Jump? In these stockings and shoes?”
The Doctor looked down at her dainty little black shoes. “Yes, I can’t say that you chose the best footwear for a trek into the woods.”
“Let me correct you,” said Mary, “a trek down a well-beaten trail into the woods. I didn’t expect to be clambering through all of this.”
“The well-walked path is always boring,” smiled the Doctor, “this is much more fun.”
“Oh, I like a good adventure,” said Mary, “but I like to be dressed for it. A good pair of trousers and a cardigan.”
“Love a nice cardigan,” said the Doctor, edging closer to the edge. “It’s not a great distance. About five foot. I reckon we could jump it.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“If we’re to get to where I think we need to get to then yes, we need to jump it. I assume this stream leads to the lake?”
“Yes. We could follow and go around.”
“That’d take a lot longer.” He scratched his head and then jumped up and down on the spot. “We need to get across now.”
“So what do we do, take a run and jump?” asked Mary, looking from side to side.
“You took the words right out of my mouth.”
There wasn’t much clear land around the banks of the lake, but there was enough for the Doctor to get a good run. He just hoped his untested legs would make it. He hadn’t tried running yet. Swimming, yes, but running…well, it was something he always seemed to be doing anyway so he really needed to get these new legs up to speed.
Mary stepped back as the Doctor backed up, closed his eyes, mumbled something - she assumed a quick prayer - and then sprinted forward. For a moment she thought he was going to run straight into the lake, but instead he leapt into the air, sailing over the stream and landing on the other side with relative ease.
He steadied himself and turned to face her, a grin on his face.
“You made it look easy,” said Mary, frowning and looking down at the river.
“I’ll catch you,” said the Doctor.
“If an older gentleman like yourself can make it across then I’m sure I can.”
But Mary realised that the Doctor wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was in fact looking past her. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and those familiar goose pimples reared their heads again.
“What is it?” she said, slowly turning around.
She realised it had gotten dark now and very, very cold. She gasped. Standing right in front of her was the little ghost girl, her face glowing once again.
“Mary, don’t panic.”
Mary daren’t blink. She daren’t move as the ghost girl held out a hand towards her. She could hear a faint crackling sound coming from her and could hear her voice, but it sounded faint, almost as if it was lost on the wind.
The ghost girl jerked forward and Mary stepped back. Her foot slipped on the muddy bank and she fell back towards the river.
She felt the back of her head hit something as she hit the water and then everything went blurry.
At the bottom of Kettleworth Lake a lump of black smouldering coral lay amongst the silt and the dirt. The water down here was murky and dark and in amongst the coral was a dead, cracked crystal. And then, inexplicably, a faint orange light glimmered from within the crystal…
“Mary…”
She opened her eyes. She was lying down on the ground. It was freezing cold and she could hear thunder in the distance. The ground was a little damp - it had been raining - and she was covered over by her father’s old mac. She could still smell his cigars on it and she floated back to memories of playing at the bottom of his armchair whilst he told her stories of dragons and fairytales.
“Mary.”
Mary’s eyes focused on where the sound was coming. A blurred figure wearing a grey tweed suit and a green tank top. Had he come back to her?
“Daddy…” she murmured.
“I’m afraid not, Miss Auckland,” said the Doctor.
He came into focus and her heart sank. No, it wasn’t him at all. He was still lost to her.
“What happened?” she asked, feeling the pain at the back of her head throb.
“You fell into the river and banged your head. Luckily I was able to reach in and drag you out.”
“I’m soaking wet,” she realised, her dress clinging to her.
“And you’ll catch your death if we don’t get you inside.”
Mary shivered and tried to look around her. They were underneath some trees next to what looked like the entrance to a stone bunker. “Where are we?”
“We’re at the reason why I remembered the name of Kettleworth Woods,” said the Doctor, looking up at the ominous structure. “The Torchwood Institute.”
The Doctor helped Mary to her feet and held her closely to keep her warm. She normally would have felt uncomfortable being held this way, but she was too cold to care. He led her to an iron double door. He ran his hand along the old door and pointed to a white logo - the outline of a hart with a hole in the centre.
“What’s the Torchwood institute?” asked Mary, trying to stop her teeth from chattering.
“All in good time,” said the Doctor. “Let’s get you in first.”
The door was bolted with a large, iron bar. He pulled a strange, cylindrical device, not much longer than a pen, from his jacket pocket and aimed it at the bar. It made a high-pitched whirring sound and slowly the bar began to slide across.
Mary felt too groggy to even question what he was doing as the bar fell away and the Doctor pulled the doors open.
Inside was dark and dingy and the Doctor had to use a torch to light their way. A set of steps led down under the ground and to a long, dark corridor built with grey breeze blocks. At the end of the corridor was another set of double doors covered in cobwebs.
“This place hasn’t been used in years,” said the Doctor, shining his torch around.
They opened the double doors until they were standing in what looked like a disused laboratory. Half of the room was covered in paperwork and hastily cleared filing cabinets and furniture. On the far side of the room was a window that looked in on an empty chamber.
The Doctor spotted an upturned chair and guided Mary over to it. He took off his jacket and put it around Mary.
“What is this place?” she asked.
“It’s a lab,” said the Doctor, sadly. “A lab for conducting scientific experiments.”
“So you’ve heard of the Torchwood Institute before then?”
“Oh yes!” He picked up a clipboard. It showed a black and white photograph of the glowing ghost girl. “The Torchwood Institute was formed during the late 1800’s. They used to hunt down aliens and use their tech to help the Human Race. They had four main bases of operations but also operated out of satellite locations. I remember Kettleworth Woods as being one of their testing grounds. During the war they did everything they could to combat the Nazi threat. Bad things happened. Incredibly bad things.”
“Sounds a bit strange,” said Mary, shivering and pulling the jacket tighter around her. “I suppose it’s hard to imagine a world were bad things were done to help win a war.”
“Bad things are always being done to win wars,” said the Doctor. “The good guys don’t always do good things.”
He passed her the clipboard with the picture. “Here you go. Patient 475X. Our ghost girl.”
“It’s a photograph of her,” said Mary, wide-eyed.
“It looks like they trapped her in that room. Flip through it,” said the Doctor, turning to face the room. “There’s a whole load of notes on her.”
“But…what is she?” asked Mary, turning through the pages. “There’s nothing about where she came from.”
“Except that she arrives when the weather turns bad.” He turned back to Mary and looked again at the photo. “That’s interesting.”
“What is?” asked Mary.
“Look at her dress.”
Mary peered down at the grainy black and white photograph. “Oh yes,” she said. “It has some sort of black triangle in the top left corner.”
“I recognise that symbol,” said the Doctor. “And it’s all starting to piece together now.”
“Well don’t keep me in suspense,” said Mary.
“The black symbol is the medical symbol for a group of…well, let’s call them refugees.”
“From where?”
“Yes…well, this you may find a little harder to accept.”
“Doctor, I’ve seen this ghost girl two times today. I think I can handle more surprises.”
“They’re refugees from another planet.”
Mary didn’t respond.
“How do you feel?”
“I can maybe accept ghosts, Doctor, but not beings from other worlds.”
“Well you can choose to accept or deny it, but that black symbol means the little girl belonged to this group of refugees. The name of the planet doesn’t matter and neither does the reason they were refugees. What matters is that somehow she has become trapped here on this world.”
“And she needs our help.”
“Yes,” said the Doctor. “Regardless of where she comes from, she needs our help.”
Sometime ago…
“My name is Captain Jericho. This may well be the last log I ever record for this ship. We are under attack once again. We have travelled such a distance and have lost so many along the way. Our crew used to number in their hundreds. Only twenty souls remain onboard this ship now.
We managed to access to the vortex and we are now approaching a small, low-developed planet in the Sol system. It seems to be capable of providing safe refuge for us. We have little choice anyway. Our ship is crippled beyond repair and I must get my people to the planet below. The first to evacuate will be the sick and the injured.”
Captain Jericho made his way along the once-gleaming white corridor of the starship Fellfall until he reached the medi-bay. The medi-bay was lined with beds, each of them occupied, but on one of them lay a pretty blonde girl in a white medical gown. She looked to be in some distress.
“How are you feeling, Kyla?” asked Jericho.
She turned and looked at him. “I feel ill, Daddy.”
“I know you do, sweetheart,” he said, wiping the sweat off his furrowed brow as the starship shook again. “We have found a planet.”
“But they’re looking for us. They’re going to find us.”
“We can hide amongst the people, Kyla,” said Jericho. He clasped her hands in his. “We can hide from them and live our lives.”
Kyla cried out in pain and clutched at her stomach. “I can feel it coming.”
“Then you have to let it happen.”
“But I’m too young. I don’t want to go through with it. I’m frightened.”
“Listen to me, Kyla.” He edged closer and smiled at her. “When I made the deal to get you altered I did it so I could keep you safe.”
“But it might not work. What if I look horrible? What if you don’t love me anymore.”
“Oh, Kyla,” he said, brushing her hair out of her face and kissing her on the forehead. “I will always love you. No matter what.”
“I’m scared, Daddy.”
“I know. So am I.” The ship shook again. “But we need to teleport you and the other sick people down to the planet right now.” He sat her up. “And you, sweetheart…you need to change.”
Kyla nodded as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Will you come with me Daddy?”
“Yes, eventually,” said Jericho. “But I’ve got to make sure everyone else is safe first.” He helped her off the bed and then lifted her into his arms. He looked down into her blue eyes as he noticed her skin starting to glow a faint orange. “And no matter what happens, Kyla, you must regenerate. You must regenerate!”
To be concluded...
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