Doctor Who BBCN10 - The Nightmare of Black Island Read Online Free

time.’
    Rose hurried to catch him up. ‘Tulgy puddings? What sort of restaurants have you been eating in?’
    ‘You’ve never had a tulgy pudding? Oh, you haven’t lived.’
    Rose hooked her arm through his. ‘OK, you can buy me a tulgy pudding some day.’
    The Doctor smiled at her, aware that she needed her mind taking off what she had seen on the rocks.
    ‘Done.’ The two of them set off along the path. ‘Lewis Carroll. He was an odd one. Real name was Charles Lutwidge Dodgson. Completely denied having anything to do with the Alice books. Daft as a brush. You’d have liked him! Loved inventing words. Ever read Jabberwocky ? Loads of good words in there. “Tulgy”, “whiffling”,
    “galumphing”. And “burbled”. How come “burbled” gets to be in the Oxford English Dictionary but “tulgy” doesn’t? Hm?’
    16

    Before Rose could reply a low rumbling growl brought the two of them to a sudden halt.
    That wasn’t a burble,’ she whispered.
    ‘No.’
    The Doctor’s eyes darted from tree to tree. The wood was a jumble of long shadows and tangled undergrowth. The moon cast pale pools of light among the wet leaves as the clouds uncovered it for a moment, then the trees were plunged into darkness once again.
    The Doctor rummaged in his pocket and there was the harsh rasp of a match on sandpaper. Light flared, casting flickering shadows through the dripping wood.
    Rose grasped the proffered match gratefully as the Doctor lit another.
    ‘Everlasting matches?’ she asked.
    The Doctor nodded, eyes narrowing as he desperately searched for the source of the growl.
    There was a crackle of twigs and leaves as something large and unseen slowly circled them.
    ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got a vorpal blade tucked away in that coat of yours?’
    The Doctor gave her a brief smile. ‘Only a vorpal penknife, I’m afraid. And a blunt one at that.’
    There was another throaty rumble and Rose clutched the Doctor’s arm.
    ‘Over there!’
    The Doctor followed her gaze. A large shape crouched in the shadows of an oak tree, the light from the flickering matches gleaming in its eyes. The Doctor could count at least fourteen eyes. He reached out for Rose.
    ‘Rose, I want you to take my hand and start backing away slowly.
    Don’t run until I say “Run.”’
    The two of them started backing away from the shadowed monster.
    With a shattering roar, it broke cover, crashing through the wet leaves towards them.
    ‘Freeze!’ the Doctor hissed.
    17

    The creature was huge and grey, its face a mass of shiny black eyes and jutting fangs, the body slick with vile-smelling slime. Eight thick, fleshy tentacles sprang from the glistening body, writhing through the mulch of the woodland floor, dragging the creature forward. Dozens of huge suckers pulsed wetly on each tentacle.
    The Doctor peered at it in puzzled fascination.
    The creature
    seemed. . . wrong, somehow, thrown together, not the product of any normal evolutionary process. He took a step forward, intending to get a closer look, but Rose hauled him back frantically.
    ‘What are you doing?’
    ‘Wanted to see if I could get a better look at it, have a bit of a chat, find out what it’s doing here.’ He gave her a stern look. ‘It’s not at all like you described it. Nothing like! Wrong number of arms for starters. We’ll have to give you a few lessons in alien identification when we get back to the TARDIS.’
    ‘If we get back to the TARDIS, you mean. In case you hadn’t noticed, that thing is looking at us as if we’re lunch. Besides, it’s not the wrong number of arms because that’s not the thing I saw.’
    There was a shattering roar from behind them. The two of them spun to see another creature emerging from the shadows.
    ‘That’s the one I saw,’ said Rose.
    ‘Oh. Right-o. Sorry.’ The Doctor gave her a weak smile. ‘I think it might be time to run now.’
    Rose rolled her eyes. ‘You think?’
    ‘Run!’
    The Doctor and Rose plunged off