Post by The Sci Fi Files on Feb 6, 2012 4:27:15 GMT -5
HOLY SMOKES, YOUR SHIP HAS RECENTLY MADE A CRASH LANDING AND IT LOOKS LIKE YOU'LL BE STICKING AROUND FOR A WHILE. SO WHAT DO YOU DO? FIRST OFF, DON'T PANIC AND STAY CALM. IF YOU'RE LOST AND FREAKING OUT, JUST CONSIDER THIS YOUR VERY OWN GUIDE TO THIS UNIVERSE. HERE YOU'LL FIND EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO NAVIGATE THE STARS. NATURALLY ALL THIS INFORMATION IS A MUST KNOW, IF YOU PLAN ON SURVIVING.
The frequency had faded, but it was still transmitting faintly and somewhat distant, beating rhythmic on the 456, glaring down from the vast nothingness of outter space to Planet Earth, almost still threatening. It wasn’t a call for help, or a distressed signal, it was too short to reach the children, it was more of a broadcast application, in need of some bargain hunters, or rogue time travellers, looking to make a profit on the ruins of the Earth’s godforsaken rock. Something the Slitheen would have been interested to negotiate in, if they had still been in business. It wasn’t the sort of call The Eleventh Doctor would chase or answer. It was only the fact that it was mauve, dangerous and the TARDIS was picking up some interference, which had got The Doctor to investigate in the first place. Putting aside that it was making a red button flash on the console panel, what was he to do, ignore it? Of cause not, he pressed it, the sort of thing this regeneration would do, when he sees a big red button.
It was strange, like a ripple in a pond, a bump in the road, or a bit of dust in your eye; you blinked, and the world changed around you in an instant. All across planet Earth, and perhaps even planets beyond, people were beginning to vanish. Often at night, cozy and slumbering beneath layers of quilts and linens, people were being stolen from their homes. Some would say after the incident that it had felt like a brief cool touch against their skin, then afterward there had been a second where there was simply nothing, no scents, sights, sounds, tastes or sensations, just the white pristine embrace of non-existence. The moment passed, and those stolen away from their homes by some mysterious force awake to a humid world, not of their own.
No one is safe
A clearly alien world as the ground is a reddish ocher, nearly bare of plant life, only looming fungal structures can be seen across the barren landscape. The air is thin here, but breathable, the sky an ugly orange, the stars above unfamiliar. Brutish howls and primeval screams can be heard in the distance. Someone or something has transported you away from everything you know and love to this hellish world, millions of light years from your home. The only suggestion of how or why this is happened in a metal spire rising out of the brittle ground, easily fifty feet in height, but slender like a radio antenna.
No one is safe
Hunts, will come in the form of newspapers, TV broadcasts, rumours, internet postings, missing persons notices, or anything else that might catch the attention of a hunter that will send them over the country and even further then that. Keep an eye out.
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