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 eanwhile, the daring Doctor had had no such problems, and with Steven momentarily forgotten he had walked until he had left the misted aura and found himself in a marble pillared anti chamber with a luxurious, elaborate grand staircase stretching upwards before him to another misted veil at the top. He ascended and stepped through the curtain of mist and kept ascending until finally he emerged into the very darkened scenario of the bridge of a huge luxury liner, the ship's wheel being manipulated by wizen hands, nothing outside the windows all round the area except inky, unpenetrating blackness.
'How could anyone steer a course in this thing, through this darkness?' pondered the Doctor to himself. His keen eyes twinkled with thought, but then he became more and more bewildered. He began to shake and turn to escape as he sensed a great danger creeping towards him and tainting the very air itself with its evil.
But the shadow before him had already arrived and was blocking his only place of escape. A whispering voice like a sighing hissing, breeze hoarsely said, 'Too late I'm afraid for you and your companion. "Late" being the operative word!' There was more than a hint of chill menace there.
The Doctor closed mournful eyes, and felt the fetid touch of clammy fingers upon his face, as a shadow clasped his jaw in a vice like grip...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
 rriving with a thud on a hard, polished floor Steven Taylor groaned in agony. It was quite a long fall he had encountered, but he was glad of a friendly face helping him to his feet while he tried to clear his head.
'Thanks, Sara,' he intoned gratefully, brushing himself down and wincing at his bruises. He stepped back from the pale woman in the SSS security uniform all of a sudden. 'No! Wait! You're...dead! How can...?' Steven remembered the wrath of the Time Destructor blasting Sara Kingdom back to the dust.
The dark haired beauty, eyed him with puzzlement, before the curling mist took her in its embrace again. 'Of course...but aren't we all here?'
He followed her and stepped into an anachronism, there, before him was a beautiful magnificent ballroom with its delicate wall carvings, stained glass windows and hanging chandeliers, but dancing to a haunting melody were thousands of floating, wheeling figures, some recognisable such as Abraham Lincoln, Hitler, Queen Victoria, Churchill, Byron, Julius Caesar, Shakespeare and many others; consisting of very ordinary people from the various ages of human existence. This was too much for the astronaut. He rocked and fell into the floating unconscious heap.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
 weeping past the Doctor, who stood there aloof and disinterested, showing his revulsion, the shadow of darkness began a triad that turned the Time Traveller's blood to ice.
'I am Death...!' The anticipation of a question was bought into play, as the shadow glided to face his capture. 'You have heard of me, I suppose?' An evil chuckle, guttural and unfriendly, sadistically followed.
'Of course!' snapped the Doctor, his voice cracking a little. 'You are the spectre that haunts all life throughout the Universe...'
'Oh...' whispered the shadow, chidingly. 'There you are wrong. I am only the master of the Earth beings on this celestial plane. A small, insignificant morsel that barely states my appetite.' Spectral hands clutched the Doctor's shoulder and the shadow closed in. 'I need souls, and I need a place to store and feed upon their meagre energy.' He waved a hand of nothing away from the old man.
'This Titanic vessel had been useful, it had capacity and many dead souls all charged with the beauteous fear of doom, of me. Such a feast, but now, even now, the vessel is over populated with empty husks...weakened am I, as my fear no longer holds its reign, no goodness to be had from the unafraid soul but it comes here all the same!' His hand waved over the Doctor's head and pleasurably, he croon, 'I see you do not fear me, but I sense your fear stems from that...that transport you arrived in You do not wish me to possess it.' As if thinking, the awesome being suddenly stopped. Then it laughed, long and hard, as the TARDIS appeared on the bridge.
'No, Sir!' shouted the Doctor commandingly, 'You shall not have me or my vessel. As I am not dead, you have no hold on me!' He stepped in front of his beloved craft and waved his walking cane menacingly.
The grim reaper of millions of souls edged forward and hung a deep, darkening shadow towering over the trembling old man. 'Give me your craft and I will promise you an eternity at my side. Together we shall reap the entire Universe throughout all time! Once again all will feel my grip and fear my passing. When nothing survives I wil lbe supreme, over bloated and content!' Pity seemed to be creeping into this foul abomination's voice as he whispered, 'I plead with thee...give me life.'
The Doctor chortled. 'Give Death life!? That would be a contradiction wouldn't it? Hmmm? No, my friend. Never!' He backed away into the craft and locked the doors.
Like a bat, Death flapped helplessly around the outside of the ship and tried to hold onto it as it groaned from solidity to emptiness. Death slid away and parted with the empty air. It took to the wheel of the vessel and steered a new heading as it felt a violent rumbling of distant gun fire...'One day, I shall catch up with you,' came the harsh threat. 'All of you. Be sure of that!'
A white, pale brown figure of a man began to appear at his side, blood stains over his body, just coming into being, but still a little transparent. 'Nearly there, Mr. Kennedy, I shall be with you quite soon...'
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
far away voice sounded in Steven Taylor's head. It was muttering about energy banks having recharged themselves. As his eyes fluttered open, the young space pilot groggily rose to his feet to find himself back in the TARDIS control area.
The Doctor hunched over the main console, staring intently at the controls. 'What's happened? I just don't know.' He grumbled to no-one in particular. He looked up. 'Ah, my boy, back to the land of the living I see.' The Doctor wagged a finger. 'It was lucky for both of us I recovered from the electrical shock we both suffered or I might not have been able to resuscitate you.' The Doctor smiled a wicked grin. 'At one point, I thought we both had it. Death nearly paid us a visit.'
'I could have sworn we did,' muttered Steven, quivering inwardly. But dismissing the nagging thoughts he had, distant memories of being somewhere else, Steven turned to leave the console room.
If he had stayed afew seconds longer, he would have seen his mentor close his eyes and shudder, for the Doctor had met his greatest enemy. Death. Realising that not even he could live forever...
"And the last enemy to be destroyed is Death"
I. Corinthians. Chapter 15. Verse 26.
written by
DARREN FIELD
copyright 2009
artwork by
COLIN JOHN
copyright 2009
  
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an empty vessel page2
