AliMoseby (alimoseby) wrote,

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Bad Moon Rising

Alrighty.  This is a Halloween-ish fic.  I won't be posting a link on the doctor_donna comm as I'm not sure it's one that fits the criteria for there.  If it does, then perhaps I will.  Anyhow...the title comes from the Creedence Clearwater Revival song "Bad Moon Rising".  I don't own it.

First things first though.  I believe in and have seen paranormal things.  When I was 5 years old and we lived in Arizona, my dad would take me out to the desert to go stargazing.  While out there we saw what I called "dancing lights".  We never did find out exactly what they were, but they were close to the ground and had vague human like shapes.  One night when I was 10, I watched my dad go up the stairs to the second floor bedroom he shared with my mother.  He had died three days before.  One of the only things of his I have is his wedding ring.  Every year on the anniversary of his death, the ring becomes so cold it's impossible to touch.  And then of course there's this.  Please read the backstory at the end of the fic for my story.  Part of it is my granddad's story, part of it mine.  Both true.

Please ignore the font change at the end.  It won't let me fix it.  >_<

As always, I don't own Ten, Donna, or Doctor Who.  The BBC does.  Please read and enjoy...

The doors to the TARDIS opened and the Doctor and Donna stepped out.  It was midday, or appeared to be, and they were in an open snowy field, though there was a tall grayish-brown farmhouse in the distance.  “Nova Scotia, Canada,” the Doctor said.  “1935.  December.”

“Any reason we’re here?” Donna asked.  She looked around warily, waiting for an invasion, or other disaster soon to befall the area.  “Looks peaceful.  Too peaceful for you.”

“Oh, really now, not every place we visit has something happen,” he scratched the back of his neck at her raised eyebrows.  “Well most places do, I guess,” he sighed, then reached out and took her hand. “But not here.  Not this time.”

“So what are we here for then?”

“A story.”

“A story?” Donna’s eyebrows rose again, then her eyes narrowed.  “What kind of story?”

“A ghost story,” he tightened his grip on Donna’s hand and led her towards the  farmhouse, all the while telling her the story of the farmhouse and it’s two permanent inhabitants.


           Out front of the farmhouse, a family of four sat on a bench facing the house.  Two adults, a teenage boy, and a younger girl.  They were staring at the house, specifically the third floor.  Every month it seemed when the moon came up dark at night, they’d end up out here on this bench during most of the day and sleeping in the barn at night.  There was a hearth on one end of the barn where a fire could sit, and over the hearth, an iron tripod with a pot hanging from the center.  It had been going on as long as they had lived at the house.  They were the fourth tenants in ten years.   The others had put up with the monthly events for just under a year each, but this family had stuck it out for seven years.   They found a way to live with the events, by never going to the third floor, which was an attic, and staying out of the house for the couple days that the moon was new.  Oh they’d gone up to the attic a few times when they’d first moved in, and made the mistake of going up there when the moon was new one of those times.  They got the message.  Don’t go up there.  Ever. 

           The girl saw movement to her right and looked to see two people walking across the fields towards the house.  She poked her father and pointed.  The family turned to look and stood to greet the newcomers.


           The Doctor and Donna approached the four people, and the Doctor stuck out his hand.  “Hello.  I’m the Do- John Smith,” he decided to be John Smith for this.  He gestured to Donna.  “This is Donna.  We write for the newspaper in Halifax,” he shook hands with the father, smiled at the mother and two kids. 

“Richard Clenanden,” the father then gestured towards the other three.  “This is my wife Lucille, my son Robert, and daughter Anoria,” he looked over at Donna skeptically.   “Women don’t write for the newspaper,” he said, pointing at Donna.

“Hold on, Sunshine,” Donna started with a glare, but she stopped when the Doctor touched her arm.

“Well, no they don’t really, but she does.  She helps me.  We write together.  Make quite a team we do,” the Doctor had a wide grin. 

“What are you here for?” Richard asked.  “No one comes out here, and if they do, they leave in a hurry.  Especially this time of month.”

           The Doctor noted the four all gave each other nervous looks.  “We’ve heard tales in Halifax,” he sat on the bench the Clenandens had just vacated.

“What tales?”

“About your house,” the Doctor waved his hand towards it.  “Third floor actually.   The attic.”

“What of it?” Richard glared.  But the Doctor and Donna took notice of his nervousness underneath the glare. 

“I think you know.”

“Know what?”

           The Doctor stood and looked up to the sky.  “Going to be a new moon tonight, isn’t it?”

“Yes.  And?”

“You’ll be sleeping in the barn if the pattern fits.”

“How do you know?” Richard now looked wary. 

“There have been stories about this house.  Stories about the third floor, and why no one goes up there.”


           When the sun went down, Richard and his family went to the barn, but Donna and the Doctor stayed where they were.  In a few moments Richard and Robert joined them, Lucille and Anoria staying in the barn.  The Doctor stood up from the bench and moved towards the house.  “Do you mind?” he asked, putting his hand on the doorframe.

“You’re not going to go up there,” Richard said.  “No one goes up there, not even us.”

“It’s not safe,” Robert added. 

“You don’t have to come with us,” the Doctor said with a wide grin. 

“Us?” Donna glared.  “You think I’m going to go up there and see whatever they are?  Dead people?”

“Where’s that sense of adventure you have?” the Doctor asked.  “You’ve been on alien planets, seen hundreds of aliens, saved the universe, and with my help,” he paused here, rubbed his forehead and shot a look over the field of which the timeship stood on the other side.  “And quite a bit from the TARDIS, you’re becoming another species.  Are some ghosties going to scare you off now?”

           Donna glared at him.  He grinned widely, bouncing a bit on his toes.  “Fine.  I’ll go in.  Probably should anyhow, as you’ll likely get your skinny bum thrown out by whatever is in there.”

“Brilliant,” he took her hand and turned to Richard and Robert.  “Allons-y?”

           Both men shook their heads.  “We’re not going in,” Richard said.  “You’re on your own, and on your own heads be it,” they turned and walked away to the barn. 

           The Doctor waited until Richard and Robert were in the barn, then pulled Donna up on the porch.  They went inside and up the stairs to the second floor, then stood on the landing near the steps up to the third.  The Doctor sat down on the steps, Donna next to him.  “How long do we wait?” she asked.

“I don’t know.  We never asked what time the entities show up. Just that they show up on new moon nights.  Well, both on new moon nights.  The little girl shows up nightly.”

           They sat in silence for a while, the only sound heard was the ticking from the grandfather clock on the first floor.  Finally Donna rubbed her arms.  “Getting cold in here.” 

“Here,” the Doctor stood and took his brown duster off and draped it over her shoulders.  Sitting back down he noticed that the chill seemed to deepen. 

“Do you hear that?” Donna suddenly grabbed his hand.  He tilted his head and nodded.  “Yeah.  That sounds like footsteps,” he stood up and faced Donna and the steps.  They listened quietly for a few minutes and then both looked at each other at the sound of childish laughter. 

           The Doctor helped her up and they went up the stairs to the third floor, the air growing colder with each step.  At the top of the stairs there was a door.  The Doctor shared a look with Donna before he opened it.  The sound of giggling stopped, and a feeling of being watched filled them.  Donna suddenly gasped as an icy breeze went through them and they turned to see the figure of a girl on the steps below them.  She appeared to be watching them, not moving just standing five steps below them, with what they could swear was a smile on her face. 

“Hello,” the Doctor waved.  The figure didn’t move.  “I’m the Doctor.”

“Can ghosts even talk?” Donna whispered, not taking her eyes off of the figure.  

“Dunno.  Never talked to one before.”

“What?” she gave him a look.  “900 years old, travelled all around space and time and never seen a ghost?”

“First time for everything,” he grinned and looked back at the figure.  His smile fell and Donna looked to the figure at his frown.  The figure had her arm raised, her hand pointing behind them.  It was then they heard a low growling sound.  They turned and looked into the third floor room.

“Oh my God!” Donna gasped, her hand gripping the Doctor’s tightly.  “What.  Is that?”

           They watched as a dark shadowy figure slid across the far wall.  As it moved around the room, the girl figure now behind them began to wail, her voice an unnatural sound.  Donna shrieked when deep red eyes flashed in the middle of the shadow and the growling increased.  A deep feeling of malevolence crept over them as the shadow came closer. 

           The Doctor, without taking his eyes off the shadow, reached into the room and tried to pull the door closed.  It wouldn’t move.  He tugged and tugged, with no results.  “Use the sonic,” Donna yelped. 

“Wood, Donna.  Remember?” he let go of the doorknob and pulled her backwards down the steps never taking his eyes off the shadow.  As they stepped backwards onto the second floor landing, the shadow filled the doorway.  The door suddenly closed with a bang, the wailing stopped, and the growling started to fade.  They looked around and couldn’t see the girl figure any longer.  They watched the door, but seeing nothing further they turned away from it and went down all the stairs to the first floor.  On their way out the front door, they heard faint footsteps, and a childlike voice, and though no words could be understood, the message was clear.  They needed no further encouragement and they left quickly.  They didn’t stop at the bench, they didn’t stop at the barn though they knew Richard and Robert were watching from one of the windows, they didn’t stop walking, almost running until they were in the TARDIS, and it was floating in the Vortex. 

           In the house, on the third floor, a shadow figure faded into the darkness, and a girl figure sat on the steps outside the door to the third floor, humming.


Here is the backstory.

Bad Moon Rising is based on a true story.  Names were changed, and family members were reduced.  In actuality there were 5 kids.  My granddad, his three brothers and one sister.  They were also the last family to own the farmhouse.  After my granddad and his siblings had grown up, left the house and married, my great-grandparents sold the farm and the farmhouse to the Nova Scotia Historical Society.  To my knowledge the house is no longer there. 

In December of 1935 two newspaper men and a hotel manager from Halifax visited the farmhouse.  They had heard the stories about the third floor and wanted to see for themselves.  My granddad’s family was skeptical but allowed them to go inside the house.  No one knows exactly what they saw.  They ran away from the house that night, and never spoke of what they saw.  What I describe as what Ten and Donna saw is what I saw when my mother and I visited the one and only time.

In the summer of 1986, my mother and I took a road trip from here in Oregon to southern Ontario where she grew up.  While there, we were told this story as was usual, and this time we got curious.  We decided to go to Nova Scotia and see the farmhouse.  At that time it was still there.  We got permission from the Historical Society to go to the house after the new moon rose as we were descendants of the last owners of the property. 

Just as I described Ten and Donna doing, my mother and I sat on the steps.  We felt the cold, we felt that strong breeze as the girl figure passed through us, and we saw the entities just as I described.  We heard that wail from the girl figure, we heard the growling, and we saw those red eyes.  We could not close the door, we backed down the steps and busted our asses out of there. We basically had the ever loving shit scared out of us.  I was 12 years old at the time and even though I had seen other paranormal things before this, the pure malevolence and evil I felt from that shadow figure is nothing I’d ever felt before and ever felt since.   My mother has never spoken of it since. 

My granddad passed away in 2005, but when we (my husband and I) scraped together money for a final visit in 2004, he told part of the story to us again.  But his memory was faded so it had things left out.   I used what I remembered to the best of my ability and changed a few things, most obviously the newspaper men and hotel manager to Ten and Donna.  But the basic story remains the same.

Tags: doctor who, donna noble, fiction, halloween fic, pg-13, tenth doctor
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