Chapter 2

The corridor was infinite. Casey had guessed that the first room must have had walls beyond the shadowy gloom, but this was something else. The identical walls bordered an identical floor, and the ceiling was nowhere to be seen.

The tabby wandered on, seemingly oblivious to Casey's incessant pleas that it should come back. Casey didn't want to rush forward and bundle the ginger mess into her arms; that would only press the moggy further into the darkness.

"Come on, you sod!". Casey was losing her patience ever so slightly. She turned to see how far she'd come. The door seemed a mile away now! Was this really worth being caught over? She weighed up her options. In all likelihood, she could slip out without any bother if she turned around now. There weren't any cameras to speak of and not a soul in sight. She decided that when the door behind her completely vanished from her vision, she would turn around and leave.

Casey's foot caught something. "Oft!". She tumbled forwards and caught her elbows against the hard floor. Her glasses skittered away across the ground. She'd made quite a scene of herself. She clasped her hand to her mouth and turned to see what she'd tripped over.

The cat. It was fixed to the floor, all fur and tail. It had grown to twice its original size and was staring towards the opposite wall. Casey followed its gaze and found another door, just open a touch. There was a flash and the sound of sparks! Casey scooted herself away on her rear.

The mog hadn't moved. Casey must have lost sight of it in the absence of light. It started chattering. It's breathing became heavier as it coiled itself. It let out a low moan. Casey desperately wanted to calm it, should the guttural warning noises it made give her away to whoever was on the other side of the door.

More sparks. A thin shaft of smoke whispered out of the crack in the door. The cat hissed and spat. Casey used its vocal complains as an excuse to back further down the corridor and press herself into the shadows, feeling for her glasses and slipping them back on. She felt the reassuring angle of a small wooden table against her wrist.

The door yawned open, thrown aside with assurance.

Casey threw herself back, pirouetting and ducking behind the table in a single motion, disguising her head behind a stack of multi-coloured antique books. She was short of breath. She pushed her sleeve against her mouth to stifle her long, laboured intakes and exhalations.

A tall figure cut through what little light the corridor provided. It stopped before the cat, now incandescent with rage and fear. Casey swore she could hear its breathing above her own. The light from the circular indents in the wall revealed tiny pools of sweat flashing beneath the feline's paws.

The figure placed a hand against its waist. Something caught the light as it drew a long pointed shape from its side and produced it to the shivering mound.

"What the...". Before Casey could fully articulate her confusion, and, frankly, concern, her elbow gave way against her thigh. She had packed herself so tightly against the wall that it was only a matter of time before the tension riddling every muscle in her body gave way. Her forearm caught the thin leg of the the table closest to her, toppling the priceless leather bound bricks. Time slowed down as every single one made its own distinct and piercingly loud "Splat!" on the floor.

Casey's heart did two things at this point. At first, it seemed to stop entirely, stopping the flow of blood from reaching her head, causing her face to go completely and utterly cold. Second, it fell deep down into her stomach, mingling with her already fragile gut.

She dare not look up to see how angry the night-guard was. They'd be all yellow-vested, red-faced and bereft of good humour.

"Stand up".

They were female. Okay, that might play better.

Cautiously, Casey pulled herself up, taking every opportunity she could not to make eye contact with the form standing uncomfortably close to her.

"Look at me."

She did.

A handsome, almost chiselled face met hers. The woman stood before Casey was very, very good looking, but her eyes burned with a strikingly cold blue glow. Her make-up was severe, but not audacious. Thick lines burst from her eyes and her cheekbones were expertly extenuated. Her outfit was contemporary but gave off a classic flair; a double-breasted, shoulder-padded pinstriped black jacket, form fitting jeans packed into knee-height black boots and hair that seemed to consist of every style Casey could care to mention. It flowed behind her in a wild mane, with a top-bun sprouting from the crown of her head and two pointed lines of hair cordoned her features at either temple.

"How did you get in?" Her tone was short, exactly the response Casey had expected and probably deserved.

"I'm not sure", Casey said into her mustard roll-neck.

"Why are you here?". For a brief moment, Casey felt an accusatory flash of anger. Sure she probably shouldn't have been there, but this line of questioning rubbed her up the wrong way.

"Can I just leave now? I'm sorry that I knocked over your books...". Casey knew she sounded a bit pathetic with her mumbled tones barely audible over her awkward shuffling, but playing the innocent fool was her last resort if she wanted to get out quickly and without any reparations.

"You can leave. Quickly!"

Casey didn't dare look back up to the woman's face as she squeezed by and darted back down the corridor.

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Casey slid back through the door and ran across to the central podium.

Fingertips away from the red lever that controlled the doors, she was lurched violently to the floor.

The lights in the room burst into life, filling the space with a blinding white glow.

A roaring, tumbling sound rattled her skull as she was thrown back and forth across the ground. She balled herself up, terrified that a swift head-on-collision with the console's base or one of the now illuminated ornamental furnishings against the far corners of the room would cause her serious damage.

A furious shape whirled into the room. The stern woman braced herself against the hexagon and set to work, yanking and flipping and torturing the controls before her.

Casey flew towards the base and instinctively grabbed hold. Her face was turning red from the forces swirling around her. She couldn't help but yelp as her stomach did flips. It felt like a roller-coaster ride that had left the tracks.

Her fingertips white with strain, Casey pulled herself up to the controls. The room was spinning and shaking. She could feel blood pounding in her ears.

The woman across from her caught her eye and threw her head back, laughing. Casey could barely hear her next words among the scorching turbulence.

"Welcome aboard! I'm the Doctor!", the woman yelled with stilted assurance.

And then, with a final frown, Casey passed out.