Words (Doctor Who Fanfiction)

Chapter 10: Vampires of Venice

(*Author's Note at the end of chapter. Please read.*)

11th Doctor Chapter

The TARDIS whirs and whistles, her rotor moving up in down, the control room rocking back and forth, throwing us to the ground and repeat.

Soon enough it stops, the ground steady and smooth, possible to stand on. Amy and Rory bolt to the doors, yanking them open with curious expressions on their faces. "Venice." The Doctor announces proudly, his eyes gleaming.

I walk up behind him, looking out over the couple in front of us.

A canal is visible through the doors, gondolas tied to the docks. The sky is a bright blue, white clouds dotting the skies. The dark clear water reflects the image of the sky, ripples forming where the tide hits against walls and gondolas. The buildings were beautifully designed, the architecture swirling.

"Venezia. La Serenissima. Impossible city. Preposterous city. Founded by refugees running from Attila the Hun. It was just a collection of wooden huts in the middle of the marsh, but it became one of the most powerful cities in the world. Constantly being invaded, constantly flooding, constantly just beautiful. Ah, you got to love Venice. So many people did. Byron, Napoleon, Casanova. Ooo, that reminds me. 1580. That's alright. Casanova doesn't get born for a hundred and fourth-five years. Don't want to run into him. I owe him a chicken." The Doctor rambled, his arms spread wide as if absorbing the sunlight.

"You owe Casanova a chicken?" Rory asked dumbfounded.

"He probably owes Alexander the Great something too." I chided, shouldering the bony man.

"Long story. We had a bet." The a Doctor began to stride foreward, acting liked he owned the place.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Papers, if you please. Proof of residency, current bill of medical inspection." A man stops the Doctor's parade, holding out his hand expectantly.

Fumbling around a bit, the Doctor yanks out his psychic paper, flashing it to the inspector, of sorts. "There you go, fellow. All to your satisfaction, I think you'll find."

"I am so sorry, Your Holiness. I didn't realize."

The Doctor quickly blesses the man, winking at me over his shoulder in the process.

"No worries. You were just doing your job. Sorry, what exactly is your job?" The Doctor asked, an invisible eyebrow raised.

"Checking for aliens. Visitors from foreign lands that might bring the plague with them."

"Oh, that's nice. See where you bring me? The plague." Amy complains, her red hair glistening in the afternoon sun.

"Don't worry, Viscountess. No, we're under quarantine here. No one comes in, no one goes out, and all because of the grace and wisdom of our patron, Signora Rosanna Calvierri." The inspector nodded to Amy, acknowledging her presence.

"How interesting. I heard the plague died out years ago." The Doctor smiles warily.

"Not out there. No, Signora Calvierri has seen it with her own eyes. Streets are piled high with bodies, she said."

"Did she now." I cut in, quirking an eyebrow. Rory grabs the psychic paper from the inspector, glancing at it strangely.

"Oi!"

"Er, according to this, I am your eunuch." Rory said, looking up at the three of us, the inspector leaving.

"Oh yeah. I'll explain later." Amy smirked, grabbing Rory's hand and dragging him down the cobblestone streets.