![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Me vs. the Monster
May. 27th, 2013 10:36 pmEverything seemed clear. Everything seemed clear, and she had to check. She had to check for him, because this - surely this, if not the powered people all being knocked flat, if not her- the other her dying was enough, surely this was. Surely the Doctor would come. She murmured a very quiet-- "Doctor, where are you-" to herself, just as she heard a door hiss open somewhere behind her, and somewhere in front of her, bringing her walk to a stop.
That was when she realised that 'clear' hadn't meant 'clear', in the exact meaning of the word.
She turned in a circle, and then took a deep breath, her steps careful as she chose a direction, creeping along the hall.
Later, she'd be thankful that Logan heard her scream.
--
She didn't remember a lot of it, just the thing's face- if it'd still been a face, and a ball of metal claws and Canadian anger had been rolling around the floor as she'd managed to get herself out of that room. It wasn't one of the rooms that'd opened. It was a kitchen, it was a kitchen that nobody used, but she was trying to find her way out, her hand leaving a bloody smear on the wall where she caught herself. Nothing immediately life threatening-- she could hear somebody or something else screaming behind her, and the most awful sound she thought she'd heard-- the loud skittering that echoed from somewhere, and all she could focus on was the blood from the cut on her forhead, and the cuts - from a knife, blood soaking into her tights so she was limping, bites on her arm still dripping blood.
It was a nightmare, which was why she was honestly surprised when she saw...
"... Spock?"
That was when she realised that 'clear' hadn't meant 'clear', in the exact meaning of the word.
She turned in a circle, and then took a deep breath, her steps careful as she chose a direction, creeping along the hall.
Later, she'd be thankful that Logan heard her scream.
--
She didn't remember a lot of it, just the thing's face- if it'd still been a face, and a ball of metal claws and Canadian anger had been rolling around the floor as she'd managed to get herself out of that room. It wasn't one of the rooms that'd opened. It was a kitchen, it was a kitchen that nobody used, but she was trying to find her way out, her hand leaving a bloody smear on the wall where she caught herself. Nothing immediately life threatening-- she could hear somebody or something else screaming behind her, and the most awful sound she thought she'd heard-- the loud skittering that echoed from somewhere, and all she could focus on was the blood from the cut on her forhead, and the cuts - from a knife, blood soaking into her tights so she was limping, bites on her arm still dripping blood.
It was a nightmare, which was why she was honestly surprised when she saw...
"... Spock?"
