Doctor Who: The Shining Man Page 8

  ‘Nonsense,’ he said, running his fingers along the spines of the shelves. ‘Librarians love me. Except for that lot in Alexandria, but the fire wasn’t my fault. Ish.’ He stopped, pulling a heavy black tome from the shelf. ‘Here we are. Hold your arms out.’

  ‘Why?’

  He start piling book after book into her hands. ‘Because you need to hold this, and this, and this, and this!’

  ‘Er, heavy …’ she complained, nearly dropped the steadily growing pile.

  ‘Sorry, allow me,’ he said, plucking the thinnest possible pamphlet from the top of the stack and rushing over to a reading table. ‘Well, come on, we haven’t got all day.’

  Bill slammed the books down, the pile immediately toppling over.

  ‘Careful,’ he said, stopping the books from crashing down on the cup of tea that had appeared on the table. She had a sneaking suspicion that the Doctor had produced the cup from his jacket pocket, complete with a shortcake biscuit, but knew better than to ask too many questions.

  ‘Where’s mine, then?’ she asked.

  ‘What?’

  She pointed at the china cup.

  ‘Oh sorry,’ he said, sliding it over to her. ‘Please, have this one.’

  She wasn’t going to argue, although she couldn’t help but notice that the biscuit had disappeared from the saucer. ‘So, what do we need?’ she asked, taking a sip and wincing at the amount of sugar.

  ‘I’ll know when we find it,’ he said unhelpfully, brushing crumbs from his lapel. He shoved a hardback book towards her.

  Bill picked it up, reading the name on the spine. ‘Lore of the Land by Amelia Rumford.’ She opened it at random, finding a chapter on standing stones. ‘Haven’t you got a library on the TARDIS?’

  ‘It’s out of bounds at the moment,’ the Doctor admitted, as he flicked through a book of his own. ‘The books are possessed.’

  Bill actually laughed at that. ‘They’re what?’

  ‘Possessed,’ he repeated as if such things happened every day. ‘Last time I went in there, poor Hattie got attacked by the 1986 Bash Street Kids annual. It had grown teeth the size of bananas.’ Bill was just about to ask who Hattie was when the Doctor slapped the page he was reading. ‘A-ha!’

  ‘A-ha what?’

  He flashed the cover of the book at her. ‘The Encyclopaedia of British Myth and Legend, seventh edition. B for Boggart.’

  ‘That bloke from old movies?’

  The Doctor looked up at her. ‘Sorry?’

  Bill put on an American accent that admittedly needed work. ‘Play it again, Sam.’

  He sighed. ‘Not Bogart … Boggart. Listen …’ He returned to the page, reading out loud. ‘“A mischievous goblin or sprite most notably associated with the counties of Lancashire and Yorkshire”.’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Bill remembered. ‘There’s one in Harry Potter.’

  He shot her a grin. ‘You wait to see what happens in book ten. Ron and Hermione have to find an Occamy’s scale and …’

  ‘Doctor …’

  ‘Oh yes, sorry. So, Boggarts were the original Bogey-Men, or Bugges.’

  ‘Bugs Close!’ Bill realised.

  He nodded, running his finger along the page as he read. ‘“Other names for the creature includes Bo-ghasts, Bogillboos and Boggles.”’

  ‘As in Boggle Wood.’

  ‘The very same. According to this, they’re why you shout “Boo” if you’re trying to scare someone.’

  ‘What did they look like?’

  The Doctor scanned the page. ‘It doesn’t say. What about Amelia?’

  ‘Who?’ she asked.

  He nodded at the book.

  ‘Oh.’ Bill checked the index, finding an entry on Boggarts. She flicked to the page and her eyebrows shot up.

  ‘What is it?’ asked the Doctor.

  She turned the book around so that he could see. There was an illustration of a Boggart, tall and lanky, with swinging arms, long clumpy hair and eyes that burned like torches. ‘Look familiar?’ she asked.

  Chapter 14

  Ultra-Terrestrials

  Bill flicked through the book finding one gruesome illustration after another. ‘But, Doctor,’ she began. ‘Goblins …’

  The Doctor let out a groan. ‘You’re not going to come over all Scully on me, are you?’

  She screwed up her nose. ‘You what?’

  He lapsed into a cockney accent that would make Dick Van Dyke wince: ‘“But, Doctah, gobberlins aren’t real, are they me old china?”’

  ‘Is that supposed to be me?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he replied brusquely, pushing his chair away from the table. ‘I thought you had an open mind.’

  ‘I did. I mean, I do,’ she said, standing up herself.

  The Doctor had rushed over to a bank of computers next to the local history section. He blasted one of the monitors with the sonic, frowning when the screen refused to turn on.

  Bill leant across and pressed the power button. ‘It’s a lot to take in, that’s all. You know … fairies.’

  ‘It’s not that hard to believe, is it?’ he said, as the computer booted up. ‘I mean, I had trouble believing in humans when I was a Time Tot, and yet here you are.’

  She sat down, as the Doctor opened a web browser. ‘That’s not exactly the same.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ he said, swivelling to face her. ‘You exist, they exist.’

  ‘What, like Tinkerbell?’

  ‘If she has green skin, razor-sharp teeth, and the unfortunate habit of stuffing rose petals down her victims’ throats, then yes, they’re exactly like Tinkerbell.’

  ‘So, they’re alien?’

  He was typing into the search bar now. ‘Not every horror comes from the stars. Fairies are from Earth, and have around just as long as humans, maybe even longer. Remind me to ask Vastra if they were around in her day.’

  Bill had no idea who that was, but didn’t want the Doctor to get distracted again. ‘But wouldn’t we notice if there were fairies flapping around everywhere?’

  ‘Who says you don’t? History’s full of sightings.’ He started clicking through his search results. ‘There.’ He opened a newspaper report from the Manchester Evening News, dated 2 April 2014. ‘The Rossendale Fairies,’ he said, indicating a picture that showed blurry creatures flying in front of greenery. Each had a tiny set of wings. ‘A lecturer from Manchester Metropolitan took this when out walking.’

  ‘I saw this on the news,’ Bill said. ‘They said they were midges or something.’

  ‘Well, they would, wouldn’t they, whoever they are. It’s easier to believe than the alternative.’

  ‘That they’re real.’

  His chair creaked as he leant back. ‘They’ve had more names than I’ve had faces. Fairies. The Fae. The Fair Folk. Homo fata vulgaris …’

  Bill held up a hand to stop the list. ‘I get the idea.’

  He started flicking through the sites he’d pulled up, revealing photos and paintings, cartoons and sketches. ‘They’re ultra-terrestrials; beings who live alongside humans, but out of sight. In the Invisible.’

  ‘And what’s that?’

  ‘Earth but not Earth. Think of it as a different frequency, that most humans can’t perceive.’

  ‘Like dogs and whistles.’

  He nodded. ‘They evolved here on Earth, but have an interesting relationship with the laws of physics, doing things that shouldn’t exactly be possible.’

  ‘So, they’re magic?’

  ‘No. There’s no such thing as magic. Just different rules.’

  ‘You said the TARDIS was magic, when I first came on board.’

  ‘I said the TARDIS was science beyond magic. There’s a difference.’

  Bill watched as he continued scrolling through the pictures.

  ‘And these ultra-terrestrials, they can be anywhere, and we can’t see them.’

  ‘Yes.’

  She shivered. ‘That’s not creepy at all.’

  ‘Oh, it
is,’ the Doctor said. ‘It’s even worse than clowns.’ He pointed past her. ‘There’s one, behind you, by the way. Right now.’

  She jumped, spinning around, but there was nothing there. ‘That’s not funny,’ she told him.

  That didn’t stop him grinning. ‘No, but it’s how it works. Back when the world was younger, the veil between the Invisible and the Visible was thinner. Ultra-terrestrials could pass back and forth whenever they wanted. Our friendly neighbourhood fairies, well, they caused merry hell. People saw them. People were afraid of them – and for good reason. To them, we’re just playthings.’

  ‘But what changed? Why don’t people see them any more?’

  ‘Oh, you do.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘You just don’t realise. A half-glimpsed movement. The shadow in a corridor that looks almost human. Voices shouting in the dark when there’s no one there. Ghosts … UFOs … Why do you think people talk about little green men?’ He turned back to his computer screen. ‘Of course, there aren’t as many as there used to be. The Fae aren’t very good with straight lines and buildings. They prefer natural spaces and woodlands.’

  ‘Like Boggle Woods.’

  The Doctor had spied a book on a nearby shelf. He wheeled over and grabbed it. ‘Local history,’ he said, flicking through the pages as he returned to the computer. There was a map at the front of the book, a hamlet by a wood. ‘Huckensall village, long before it was swallowed up by the city.’ He flipped on a couple of pages, finding a paragraph that interested him. ‘Most of the doors in the village were made from wood from the rowan tree. Interesting.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because traditionally rowan trees were used for protection against fairies. It was the custom to carry rowan crosses in your pocket, bound with red twine. The berries even have a five-pointed star opposite their stalks.’ He brought up a picture on the screen.

  ‘It’s like a pentagram,’ Bill said.

  ‘It is a pentagram, the Doctor confirmed. ‘While ultraterrestrials draw energy from nature, there’s something about rowan that forms a natural defence. They can’t pass through it as they can other woods.’

  ‘Hence the doors.’

  The Doctor found another passage in his book. ‘Here we go: “According to legend, Huckensall was a hotbed for Boggarts and goblins for hundreds of years. They invaded people’s homes at night; snatching sheets from beds with invisible claws, and knocking objects from shelves …”’

  ‘“There were even reports of unnatural storms and gales inside the huts and cottages,”’ Bill read, looking over his shoulder, ‘“the Church of St Bartholomew-in-the-Mead suffering a torrential hailstorm within its walls on a day when there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.”’

  The Doctor looked grave. ‘They must have lowered their psionic defences.’

  ‘Is that what attacked the TARDIS? A Boggart?’

  ‘Maybe that’s what we saw in the wood.’

  ‘But what did the villagers do?’ Bill asked. ‘Back then?’

  The Doctor checked the book. ‘There’s a report from 1654. A Fairy Finder came to the village.’

  ‘Is that good or bad?’

  ‘Depends on who you are. Fairy Finders were the pest controllers of their day. They rounded up the Fae and buried them deep in the ground.’

  ‘Did it work?’

  He looked up at her, not getting her meaning.

  ‘The Fairy Finder. Did he see off the Boggarts?’

  ‘It doesn’t say.’ Putting the book aside, he returned to the computer, pointing at the screen in front of Bill. ‘Charlotte said that the first Shining Man sighting was made around here. See what you can find. Newspaper reports. Interviews.’ He glanced over his shoulder at the clock. ‘And make it snappy. I don’t want to put my theory about librarians to the test.’

  Bill got to work, firing up the computer and beginning her search.

  Shining Men Huckensall

  She hit return and was surprised to see Charlotte’s face pop up, smiling from a video thumbnail. She followed the link to YouTube and her heart sank as she read the description.

  ‘Er, Doctor …’

  He turned, spotting Charlotte. ‘Ah, speak of the devil. Well, what are you waiting for? Press play.’

  He’s not going to like this, she thought, sitting back to watch the fireworks.

  Charlotte appeared on screen, walking along Bugs Close, talking straight to camera.

  ‘Hey guys. I’m here in Huckensall, near Manchester, where the entire Shining Man phenomenon began. Yesterday, I saw a Shining Man. In fact, I saw loads. Not one, not two, but a whole pack of them, near here in Boggle Woods.’

  ‘She’s good,’ commented the Doctor. ‘The camera likes her.’

  Bill closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

  Charlotte continued, becoming more animated: ‘And I got it on camera. All of it. The woods. The Shining Men. Even eye witnesses that could corroborate my story.’

  A grin crept over the Doctor’s face.

  ‘But then I lost it. All the footage. It was gone, wiped by someone I trusted. Someone who said he would help.’

  Bill’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Doctor, you didn’t?’

  ‘Didn’t what?’

  ‘Don’t come the innocent with me. You wiped her phone. In the car park. When you said you were giving her files.’

  He tried to look innocent. ‘Who? Me?’

  Bill paused the video. ‘Why would you do that? Why destroy her stuff?’

  Now he looked serious. ‘Why? Because ultra-terrestrials like the Boggarts thrive on fear. Strong emotions weaken the veil between the Visible and the Invisible. They can use them to jump from their world to ours. You heard PC Schofield. People are already scared, and a video of what we saw in woods? That would go viral in seconds, spreading the terror view by view, like by like. The more people that are scared, the easier it’ll be for Boggarts to attack.’

  ‘And that’s what they’re doing? Attacking?’

  The Doctor started counting off on his fingers. ‘People disappearing. Strange apparitions. Unnatural storms. Sounds like an attack to me. Don’t you see, Bill? I had to stop her.’

  She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and bit her lip. ‘I don’t think you did.’

  The Doctor’s face fell. ‘What do you mean?’

  Bill restarted the video, Charlotte springing back to life. ‘He didn’t want anyone to see my footage, to see the truth.’ A smile spread across her lips. ‘But that doesn’t matter, because the truth has a way of coming out.’

  The picture cut to grainy night-vision footage: Boggle Woods captured in green and black. Charlotte was running through the trees, towards a familiar groaning sound, like the universe being torn apart.

  She zoomed in on a police box standing in the middle of a clearing, its windows bright against the gloom.

  ‘But that’s impossible …’ the Doctor muttered.

  ‘He wiped my phone,’ Charlotte continued, talking over footage of her trying to open the TARDIS door. ‘But everything I shoot automatically backs up to the cloud. Including his face.’

  The door pulled open and the image froze on the Doctor’s face as he looked angrily from his box.

  ‘This is the Doctor,’ Charlotte said. ‘And if you want to see what he tried to destroy, then like this video and I’ll post the footage tomorrow.’

  ‘No!’ the Doctor said, jumping up from his seat. ‘She can’t.’

  ‘She kinda already has.’

  ‘She put me online,’ the Doctor spluttered. ‘Nobody puts me online.’ He pulled out the sonic and blitzed the computers.

  ‘Now what are you doing?’ Bill asked.

  ‘Wiping the browser history. We need to stop her.’

  He made for the doors, just as they were unlocked by a startled lady in thick coat.

  ‘W-who are you?’ she stammered. ‘What were you doing in there?’

  The Doctor put a finger to his lips and shushed her before running
out into the street. ‘Keep your voice down. This is a library!’

  Chapter 15

  Levelling up

  Charlotte’s smartphone buzzed, a notification flashing across the screen.

  ‘Congratulations! Your video has been watched 8,000 times. Keep going.’

  Don’t worry, I will, Charlotte thought, popping open a tube of cheese and chive Pringles to celebrate. The breakfast of champions.

  She glanced up at her laptop screen, perched on top of Velma’s cupboards. Another 400 people had viewed the video in the last minute alone. This was it! Cryptogal-UK was officially going viral, and it was all thanks to the Doctor.

  She smiled as she imagined his face when he saw the video. That would teach him. You can’t go round wiping people’s phones, whether you’re UNIT or not.

  Still, she’d had the last laugh.

  Comments were appearing beneath the video now, including some of the biggest cryptozoologists in the trade, names she’d admired for years. They were heaping praise on the video, asking questions and – most importantly – theorising what she had in store for her next vlog.

  Suddenly everything that happened over the last twenty-four hours was worth it. Getting soaked in the woods. Getting scared senseless. Today was the day when Cryptogal-UK levelled up. Today was when people took her seriously.

  Well, most of them.

  A new comment appeared, with an all-too-familiar name.

  YetiHunter1997.

  The guy was a jerk. Everyone knew it. But they also listened to what he had to say, even if it was mainly trolling. She’d met him once, at a convention, and he couldn’t have been more different to his online persona. In person, YetiHunter1997 was an ineffectual douche who could barely maintain eye contact.

  Huddled safely in his bedroom, the mouse of a man became a monster. Armed with an ergonomic keyboard and a complete lack of self-awareness, YetiHunter1997 was never happier than when pummelling others into submission with one of his many, many opinions.

  This morning was no different. Crunching another mouthful of crisps, Charlotte scrolled down.

  New Comment: @YetiHunter1997 – 27 seconds ago

  Huh. Obviously fake. She’s got nothing and she nos it. Better luck nxt time girlie. #Lame