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Clara awoke with a start. The Doctor sat by her bedside, wearing his hoodie. His face was enshrouded in darkness, and his hands were steepled. “Doctor, what are you doing here?” asked Clara. “What are you dreaming about?” he asked. Was he seriously asking her about a dream? At this hour? “Clara, I need to know. It’s very important,” said the Doctor. Clara switched on the light. He barely blinked. “Is this about that stupid “under the bed” nightmare again?” asked Clara. “Because if you woke me up for that, I’m gonna--” “No. Also, the “under the bed” thing was not stupid. Your dreams, Miss Oswald. What can you remember?” She closed her eyes, and
Images of being in the TARDIS. Opening the door with a snap. A homeless man, with a Scottish accent, peering inside behind her.
“Just fleeting images,” said Clara. “Oh,” said the Doctor, seeming disappointed. “Tell me if you remember anything interesting in the future.” “Wait. Hold on. Why are these dreams so important?” “That is not the question.” He wandered off. Clara nearly followed him, but then decided to sleep. Pietro opened his eyes. He covered his eyes with his hands, trying to block out the glaring sunlight from his eyes. He scrambled around for a blanket to cover his eyes with, and couldn’t find it. Had it been stolen? Again? And then he realized the glare wasn’t the sun. “Doctor?” he growled. “Is that another gizmo?” “Yes. I have a wonderful Halloween trip for us!” The glare turned down. He could see a smiling brunette woman, with a spherical face, and a mischievous twinkle in her eye. This was the Doctor, an alien traveller, who Pietro had somehow ended up befriending. One day, he had been using a friend’s Wi-Fi to look for a job, and then he was suddenly getting involved in a plot against an alien Intelligence, while an elfin space weirdo wandered around explaining that she flew in a blue box, occasionally saving people. Eventually, she managed to save the world from the Intelligence, and left Pietro. At first. Then, while he was sitting on a park bench, she jumped out of nowhere, and said “Why didn’t you come with me?” “I—oh, it’s you. What do you want?” “I’m the Doctor. I wanted a companion, silly. I thought I told you,” said the Doctor. “Did you? I was too busy running away from deadly monsters to hear,” said Pietro bitterly. “Oh,” said the Doctor. “Why do you want me?” asked Pietro. “I’m not the smartest tool in the shed. Not a model of a human being. I don’t even have a job.” “Even better. No job means no distractions. To be honest, there’s just something about you,” said the Doctor. She leaned toward him, close enough that he felt the urge to lean away. Scrunching up her button nose, she said “Can’t quite put my finger on it. Like I’ve seen you in a dream. Makes you interesting.” “Thank you. I think--” “So, every Tuesday? On the dot, I pick you up?” “Erm, what do I pay for this?” “Your time, your company, and your enthusiasm,” said the Doctor. He observed how her eyes frittered around, as if she was thinking about 10 different things at once. Then she leaned over even closer, till their faces were almost touching. He could feel her warm breath on his face, and her eyes penetrated into his soul. “The world may ask for more then that, Pietro. But I never will.” They held each other’s gaze. A smirk crossed her face, and she booped his nose. And then the Doctor walked away. From that day on, every Tuesday, the Doctor would find Pietro, and bring him on an adventure. Clara woke up groggy. Her dream had felt so vivid, and out of impulse, she wrote down the main points of it. She wondered if it was a memory from an echo. She used to have those all the time, but it rarely felt so strong. And then she looked at the alarm clock, and let out a curse. By the time she had gotten to her classroom, the students were almost leaving. “Decided to get a few more hours of sleep in?” said Courtney. “It happens,” said Clara, cringing. After the classes were over, she noticed the Doctor was sitting down, staring up at the sky. In the middle of the school lawn. Some of the students waved, apparently recognizing their former caretaker. He ignored them. Clara quickly walked over to him, tapping his shoulder. “Doctor, you shouldn’t stare at the sun. You’ll go blind.” The Doctor snorted, and turned around to look at her, and her heart skipped a beat at his bright blue irises. Then the Doctor frowned. “The students say you overslept. From what I’ve been told, that’s a bad thing.” “First time I’ve overslept in months,” Clara whispered. “Oh,” said the Doctor. She expected him to ask about her dreams, but instead he said “Do you know why people are scared of Halloween?” Clara raised her eyebrow. “No one’s scared of Halloween. Well, I was a little scared of the spooky costumes. But I was like 3. By the time I was 5, I started dressing in costumes. Adults aren’t scared of Halloween.” “But what if they should be? Halloween was once the time when the divide between the everyday world, and the chaotic spooky Other-world broke down. The time of dreams and nightmares. The Twilight period.” “Yes, yes, I know the symbolics and the metaphors. I’m an English teacher, you know.” The Doctor snorted again. “Should I be worried about spooky creatures in my dreams?” asked Clara. The Doctor smiled his horrifying, yet beautiful, grin. “Depends. How scary are your dreams?” “Please tell me we’re not going on a cruise to a city literally made of bones,” said Pietro, reading the advertisement. The picture looked extremely….well, there were tall buildings made of gleaming white spikes, and a government building that looked like ribcage. “Oh, come on. It’ll be fun. The whole society was built off the carcasses of giant creatures that could induce insanity upon sight,” said the Doctor. She beamed out a beautiful and also a little horrifying smile, while dimples formed on her mouth. “They were giant spider-like beings, with horns like unicorns. Beautiful!” “How’d they die?” said Pietro. “Not sure. That’s what I want to find out. You’re gonna help me!” “I...suppose,” said Pietro. The Doctor winked. A few hours later, Pietro wandered the streets of the City of the Edge, or simply Edge. It had a lonely feel to it, like no one was home, or would ever be home here. Hulking behemoths of bone jutted from the ground. It gave him the spooks. (The Doctor wasn’t spooked. She delighted in the surreal feel of it all.) “I got a job, recently. Doesn’t pay much, but I think I might get a place soon,” said Pietro. The Doctor didn’t even seem to register him. She was staring at a purple light peeking out from the grey sky. Looking at it immediately made Pietro feel unwell. “Pietro,” said the Doctor.”Some places hold ghosts. They hold old things, old grudges. And this place has had a blimey long time to build a grudge.” “Wonderful place for a visit.” “Indeed,” agreed the Doctor. She brushed a lock of brown hair from her face.“Do you notice anything strange? “Where is all the people” asked Pietro. “That is not the question” she said. Then she frowned, and said “Well, that’s the second question. First is—why is everything moving to that clock tower?” Indeed, the light was being drawn to the tower in the distance “Hold on. That’s the 3rd question. The 1st question is—why is the ground moving?” Pietro felt vibration through his worn-down shoes. A moaning sound resounded underground. And the bones of the city started to shift. “Let’s go see the creepy glow, I suppose?” asked Pietro. Tuesday afternoon, Clara walked to the TARDIS, and was about to knock on the door. The Doctor jumped out suddenly. “No TARDIS today,” said the Doctor. “Why not?” asked Clara. “Because, Clara, space travel isn’t everything. Sometimes it’s best to live a normal path. It’s an advantage of being human,” said the Doctor, shrugging. “’Spence travel isn’t everything?’ Doctor, you need to work on your lying,” said Clara. “Fine. There’s been some turbulence recently. Ship won’t budge. So, I’m stuck here,” said the Doctor. “You’re stuck in my house?” “If you want me to be. I meant I was stuck in Earth, linear time, Terran time zone, Galactic praxis number 9a.” Something caught Clara’s eye. Jutting from the TARDIS exterior was a spiky substance. She reached out for it. “No touching,” said the Doctor. “The TARDIS picked up some stragglers from the void.” Now Clara really wanted to know what it is. It looked like...bone.
A city of bone
“Doctor...” said Clara. “I’ve had strange dreams, where I’m the Doctor.” “Sounds like a wonderful dream.” “And,” Clara said slowly, “I think you’re my companion. A homeless man.” “...Oh,” said the Doctor. “And there’s a city of bone,” she added. His face froze. “What’s going on?” His expression became even more sullen that usual, and then leaned in her direction, whispering “Halloween, my dear Clara.” “What does that mean?” “Dreams are mixing with reality. Vice versa. Follow your fantasies of the night,” said the Doctor. “You can just call them dreams.” “Have a good night, Clara,” said the Doctor. Without a word, he climbed through her window. She remembered that she was not on the first floor, and went to check on him. He was quietly walking down the street. Suddenly she felt sleepy. As she walked to her bedroom, she suddenly realized he had left the TARDIS in her home. “That Scottish ar--” And then, she saw the bone on the exterior begin to move, and bend, into her mind-- The Doctor’s hands were in her pockets, as she stood upright through the dusty, hazy land. Pietro nearly hobbled over from the trek to the lighthouse. The road had seemed to shift and turn, and the ground became rockier. As if the land didn’t want them there. The Doctor let out a long sigh. She seemed wearier not physically, but mentally. Her wide eyes were filled with dark thought. Pietro wished to soothe them, but knew he couldn’t. Not when she was like this. “Pietro, do you dream?” asked the Doctor. “No. I stopped doing that a time ago,” said Pietro. “I see,” she replied. Crowds of people were all around the lighthouse. Their glowing eyes were looking up. “Hi. I’m the Doctor, and this is my assistant, Pietro.” They didn’t respond. Just stood still. Something was crawling up the lighthouse, made of bones. It was huge, yet swift. It looked like a combination of a spider and a millipede, with glowing purple eyes. “Oi!” said the Doctor. The creature turned its head downwards. Well, one of its heads. “You’re going to talk to it?” asked Pietro. “Why are you climbing that tower? And what’s going on? Why all the people hypnotized?” asked the Doctor. The creature made a chattering sound that echoed through Pietro’s mind, and turned into: “Crossing over.” The Doctor went ashen. She turned to the sky. “Wake up!” “What?” asked Pietro. “Wake up!” “Who are you talking to?” The creature roared, and shots of purple fire began to shoot to the ground. Pietro yanked the Doctor out of the way. “Pietro, do you ever wonder why dreams feel so real? Sometimes, just the mind playing tricks. But sometimes that’s a door to another world. And sometimes, when the dream world and the real world is so close, like say on Halloween, things cross,” said the Doctor. “Is that why we’re here?” demanded Pietro. “Yes. No. Well... But now, we have to stop it,” said the Doctor. She looked up, and said “Wake up!” “Doctor, who are—” Searing pain rolled down his arm, as he was singed by a blast of purple flame. It hurt, and bone appeared on the wound. “Pietro!” said the Doctor. She then said “Clara, wake up!” Okay. Clara had officially gone crazy. Her dreams were talking to her now. She had to find the Doctor. He hadn’t returned. The ship was now grown over with white pieces of bone, which looked really bad. More worrying was the purple light from the ship. She waited all day for him to show up. But he didn’t. So she took things into her own hands. Typical. She walked up to the glowing TARDIS, and opened the door. On the other side was the Doctor. Except he had a shabby beard, and dirty shoes, with even dirtier clothes. “Doctor?” he asked, in confusion. “I’m not the Doctor. I’m Clara,” she said. “Wait...You’re Pietro.” “Close this door!” he said. “The Doctor told me to tell you to close this door. You’re letting them through.” “Letting what through?” asked Clara. Pietro pointed down. Bone spikes had started to crawl across the floor, and was inching closer “What--” Clara said, looking up. Pietro, his body covered in bone now, lurched over the barrier, almost crashing into her. She nearly fell over, but was grabbed by the mutated Pietro, and dragged in the direction of the TARDIS. The sound of a sonic screwdriver rung through the air, and Pietro fell to the floor, and Clara actually fell over this time. A woman appeared above her, wearing a black suit, with wide eyes, a button nose, and brown hair. A blue handkerchief hung off her pocket. Clara was looking at her own face. “Is that what I look like?” said this clone. “ Anyway, stop looking into my reality, my universe. Certain things are noticing you, and looking back.” “Who are you?” asked Clara. “I’m the Doctor from your dreams. And you’re the human from mine,” she said. “I wonder how similar we are. Also, that was not the question. The question is: when will you--” “Wake up, Clara,” said the Doctor, the old Scottish one, glaring at her. Clara pushed herself from the floor. Her eyes noticed the TARDIS behind the Doctor, looking perfectly normal. “I thought I told you to stay away from the TARDIS,” said the Doctor. “I couldn’t find you. And that bone was growing over the TARDIS.” “Bone? What bone?” asked the Doctor. “You know. It was just there,” said Clara. “No, never was,” he said quietly “You told me. Stragglers,” said Clara. The Doctor turned away from her, and walked to the window. “The dreams. They’re in another universe, right? Because Halloween passed,” said Clara. “I met a version of me, that was the Doctor. Spoke to her. Right...” “Well, whatever it is, it’s over now,” said the Doctor. “We’re not going to investigate?” asked Clara. “Why would we?” said the Doctor. “It’s just dreams.” “You knew. From the night you asked about my dreams. You knew something was going on.” The Doctor raised his hands in surrender, and said “Clara, I didn’t know. But the TARDIS picked up mysterious energy traces in your mind.” “And you didn’t tell me?” “Didn’t want to worry you,” said the Doctor. “And I knew it’d pass by Halloween’s time. I hoped so.” “Why me?” “Who knows. For some reason, you were made a doorway. Something nearly stepped out. Next time, don’t open the door,” said the Doctor. Clara frowned. She noticed a blue handkerchief still on the floor. “Ya know, I’d do well as a Doctor,” mused Clara. “Oh, I think you’re already perfect as you are,” said the Doctor. “We won against the monsters?” asked Pietro, as he opened his eyes. The monsters were gone, and the City of Edge looked completely barren, with no buildings. The people were moving around, looking confused. The Doctor nodded. Biting into a jelly baby, she said “I’d do well as a human, I think.” Pietro frowned. “You’re perfect as you are.” “Hmm. But still. I dream about that, sometimes,” said the Doctor. “Oh. And congrats on your job.”