 he Doctor agreed it was not going to be his night. Wallowing around in cold mud for an hour, was not the most pleasurable experience he had experienced...at least he was comatose for the duration. He had known when wolves knew when their prey was dead, and he also knew that anything with Linxon blood in ti hated not being able to catch and devour live prey when in the wolvine farm. Thus as the pack leader had launched for him he had suspended all his bodily functions and dropped his body heat below the necessary norm for life. To the village werewolves he was technically dead.
Opening one eye, he looked around the village square and listened for any sign of movement. All he could hear were distant howls and whines and the feeble sounding voices of the Justices supplemented by the 'crank' of what sounded like a whip.
Rising, mud dribbling away from his clothing, the Time Lord was sure he was alone. Even poor Peri had vanished. 'The fiends', he muttered. They had turned her a little monster; utterly devoid of everything descent. He snarled at the thought, 'Much like her usual self.' He bitterly regretted it. He knew he could not desert the girl now, and he still had to discover the connection between the Linxons, the villagers and the Justices and wherever their technology came from. His mind was meandering round these thoughts when he heard a feeble sound behind him and saw a terrible sight.
There, dragging itself painfully around the corner of the inn, was a man or was it a wolf? It crawled half way between modes of existence as a humanoid biped and a quadruped animal.
It's hands were still covered in thick black hair but human finger nails were present. Its face was contorted with the muzzle of a wolf on one side bulging out of the side of its face, dripping blood and saliva, but the other side was perfectly normal.Its back was pitted and scarred revealing vicious red blotches, caused by some form of heat. Finally it dragged one wolvine leg which could hardly support the weight of a human torso, and a humanoid leg. The walking monstrosity heaved and emptied the contents of its stomach into the mud all saturated in huge, congealed clots of jelly blood.
All the Doctor could do for a few seconds was stand repulsed and wide eyed, mouth hung agape. He was desperately worried that this could be Peri, mutated by the effects or side effects of an overdose of vaccine. When the apparition spoke he was relieved to hear it was a male voice that spoke.
'Please...the stungers, they got me with the stungers. Triggered...a reaction, began to... transform, couldn't hold my form, couldn't get back...me.'
The Doctor had reached the creature before him and was helping him to sit upright. The Doctor needed some answers, and needed them now. In his present condition, the Doctor thought, he would be able to prise the truth from the villager as he was not entirely wolf. Enough of him was human, to be able to think and speak, nor was he man enough to hide his deformed condition from everyone else in the village. But the Gallifreyan knew he had little time as the man was near death; a happy release from this type of curse, as Leon had discovered.
'Emergency...only,' babbled the form incoherently.
'Snap out of it man,' hissed the Doctor, 'What are you babbling about? What's going on out there on the moors?'
'Liner...liner crashed, men run out...we kill, have to kill you see...can't...help it...' He clutched at the Doctor's arm. 'Blood rolls...sweet tasting..even sweeter, the meat...' The creature's head began to loll as his chest rose, he gasped a last rattling breath and died.
'What liner? What liner?!' The Doctor was still shaking the horrific corpse, trying to jolt a bit more life into it. 'Oh stupid idiot!' he muttered to the dead. 'Why is it I never get a straight answer to an easy question?'
'Isn't it because you are so uncooperative, Doctor?' It was Quinn's voice. He was aiming a stubby little blaster. 'Yes. You're very uncooperative. Won't leave when warned to. Causes the death of innocent villagers, meddles in things he dosen't understand and then has the audacity not to even die when we set a pack of werewolves on to you! If I had half your resource I wouldn't be doing this! I'd be Supremident!'
The Doctor rose unflinching and cocked an eyebrow. 'Supremident? I take you low life work for some kind of Government?'
'It's none of your concern who we work for and what we do. Just stay where you are. Your companion will be able to explain everything. Marlok!'
The second in command dragged a struggling wolf on a chain up the street until he stood at Quinn's side. Quinn left a half smile flick across his lips as he let the wolf surge forward; spitting and howling but all the time being tugged back as the chain chocked around its neck restraining its lunges.
'It knows you, Doctor.'
'Peri, what have I told you about going out with strangers?' chided the Doctor, firmly. It was greeted with a bark and another lunge forward.
Marlok played up to Quinn. 'All the...wolves are back in their houses, Quinn.' He suddenly noticed the dead form. 'Who?' he asked.
Quinn was bitter. 'The damn Inn Keeper, stubborn oaf. Seems he must have liked Leon, tried to get his own back tonight. Nearly tore half my arm away.'
It was only then that the Doctor noticed the scarlet liquid flowing from the tattered remains of Quinn's left shoulder; so too did Marlok.
'Quinn, you'd better get inside, let the surgeons operate.
Quinn laughed a little. 'What? Let those butchers cut into me They have me with the rest of them down that packaging chute. I'd be bloody fresh on the Supremident's desk by tomorrow morning, all sizzling and succulent.' He shook his head. 'It's over for me and this place.'
 
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cursed pt3 page3
