The One Who Preys (Doctor Who Regenerated: Book 2)

Prologue

(October 2003)
~

The sun glared obnoxiously bright for a fall day. Wasn't this supposed to be a time of doom and gloom? It was October after all. The old woman wondered these things as she approached the man prepping his reaper costume just outside a "haunted" tent.

   She chuckled. Was this really what the humans thought to be dark and foreboding?

   The man didn't notice the old woman until she was directly behind him. He turned with a start, his hand flying over his heart. "Jeez, you scared me for a second there," he sighed with relief. "Really sick witch costume. You'll be standing somewhere in the tent then?"

   "Costume?" The witch repeated. "Nonsense, dearie. I'll be taking yours."

   He raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

   She raised a wrinkled hand and snapped her long, skeletal fingers.

   The man vanished in a puff of dark smoke.

   Pleased with herself, the witch bent over the pile of black robes, sitting through it. "Hmm. Bah! Never mind this," she prattled, deciding on just taking the scythe.

   She wandered into the tent. Thankfully most of the humans were off by the vast collection of pumpkins just outside, and payed her no mind. The tent was mostly barren, save for a few cheesy decorations that for some reason passed as "spooky". A table sat at the far end, a fake skeleton seated behind it and a strange box atop it that was emitting music of some monsters allegedly "mashing".

   The witch scrunched her face in disapproval. Then her eyes rested on an empty coffin standing upright against the wall to her left. She sniffed. It would have to do, so she parked herself inside, waiting for her target to appear.

   The hours dragged by, and the witch grew impatient. Scrawny teenagers, dull families, and curious little kids filtered in an out as the day went on. She tried to remind herself why she was doing this in the first place.

   She and her two sisters had discussed the plan earlier, after uncovering some information that swayed in their favor.

   "My sisters, I have rather pleasing news to share," the head witch had said, a wicked smirk coiling up across her flawless face. She'd been currently taking on her younger looking form. She seemed to favor it.

   "What is it?" The first witch had asked, approaching the bubbling cauldron they were encircling.

   The head witch sifted a long wooden spoon through the thick liquid. "I peered into the Director's mind—the Time Lord has no intention of repaying us for our aid—"

   The third witch had let out a hiss of contempt. "How is this good news? I knew we couldn't trust a Time Lord."

   "Of course, but I haven't finished. I also looked upon the lives of the two human girls. It would seem the elder's knowledge of Gallifrey's location and the gift of wildlife's favor toward the younger were.. is our own doing."

   The two other witch sisters shared confused glances.

   "And how, again, is this good news?" The first had inquired.

   The head sister gazed upon the cauldron, still stirring it slowly, and now grinning wickedly. "Because, my dear sisters, it is our doing that will lead to the Director's demise."

   The sisters had then exchanged glances all around of wicked realization. Evil cackles had filled the room, echoing out their windows and into the night.