On the other side of the door was a darkened room. Red lights adorned the walls, just like they had in the corridor, but the walls still had that disgusting fleshy appearance. As I stepped into the room, I realised that the floor was wet, covered with a room-width puddle. I almost retched as I remembered the puddle out in the corridor, and hoped against hope that I wasn’t walking through a room carpeted with blood.
In the centre of the room was a pedestal. I couldn’t see what was on it, so I carefully walked closer, trying not to listen to the damp splashing sound my feet made on the wet floor.
As I came closer, I realised that there was a small, shining object on the pedestal, and as I drew closer still it became clear to me that it was a golden ring — a wedding ring?
Pausing a moment, unsure what to expect in this strange environment, I considered reaching out and touching the ring. There was nothing else in this room, and as I looked back at the door through which I’d entered, it slammed shut behind me. Like the first door in the corridor, there was no handle, lock, bolts or hinges on this side — not that getting back into that corridor would have helped, anyway. Whatever was going on here, it seemed that I had to proceed through whatever challenges lay ahead.
With trepidation, I reached out and picked up the ring. Nothing happened when I did so, and I breathed a sigh of relief. It was a smooth band of solid gold, and looked about the size of my finger. Not knowing what else to do, I put it on my ring finger slowly and carefully. It felt strange. I felt an uncontrollable urge to fiddle with it. I was uneasy.
Then the lights went out.
“So, it’s time,” came a voice in the darkness — an all too familiar voice that I was somewhat surprised to hear talking to me. It was my own.
“Time for what?” I asked, still absent-mindedly fiddling with the ring on my finger. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”
“No, I suppose you don’t,” came the voice that was not me. “It’s been a long journey to get to this point, after all, but I think you’re ready.”
“Ready for what?” I say, annoyed. “Stop talking in riddles!”
“You have some choices to make,” came the reply. “Some difficult choices. What you did bought you time to think. But that time is coming to a close. And it’s time for you to determine what you’re going to do.”
I still didn’t understand what was going on, but I figured that the only way to get out of this situation would be to follow the strange voice’s — my voice’s — instructions.
“Fine,” I say. “What are these choices?”
“Oh, it’s not as simple as that, and you know that,” came the reply. “But very well. Let’s start.”
A door appeared in front of me in the darkness. Instinctively, I walked towards it and pushed it open. Behind the door was a small room, lit again with the red lights. Standing in the middle of the room was Evie, her eyes closed, seemingly unaware of my presence.
“Evie?” I said, walking towards her hesitantly. “Evie?”
She didn’t respond. I touched her cheek with my hand but still she did nothing. She was completely immobile, but her skin was warm. She was alive, but she was — what? — asleep? I wanted to stay with her, to make sure she was safe, but at the same time I could see another door behind her on the other side of the room. The one I came in by had closed behind me, so I was trapped.
“Choose,” came my voice. The door at the far side of the room creaked open. Evie continued to be unaware of my presence. Should I stay here? Or should I continue onwards? If that door closed again I might never get out of here. My thoughts were rapid, fleeting. I was panicking.
I looked at Evie’s face — that beautiful face, somehow even more enchanting when she was asleep — and found myself torn in two directions. On the one hand, I needed to move on, to escape. On the other, I couldn’t leave her behind in this place, whatever had happened to her. I had to–
“Choose,” came the voice again, impatiently. “Will you stay here? Or will you move on?”
I didn’t really have a choice if I wanted to escape that place. Kissing Evie lightly on the cheek, I left her behind and headed for the door, proceeding into the next room, which was dark. The door slammed behind me and I was left in pitch darkness for a moment, and then a metallic “clunk” signalled more of the red lights switching on. Their glow was somewhat menacing and oppressive. The lack of any colour other than red in that strange place gave it something of a claustrophobic feel. I didn’t want to stay there any longer than necessary.
As the lights came on, I saw that there was something in the middle of this room, too. It looked like a small cage, or possibly a–
No. It was definitely a crib. I shivered. What was this? What kind of sick mind would put this here? I felt my skin crawling. I didn’t want to look inside that crib. I had a horrible feeling I already knew what was in there, but I felt like I was being pulled towards it by an invisible rope around my throat. I couldn’t stop myself from walking forwards, and before long I was upon it. I didn’t want to look, but my eyes were inexorably drawn towards it. I tried to close my eyes, but I couldn’t. I had to look. I had to see.
And I did.
The crib was empty. The crisp white sheets were smooth and unmarked save for a few tiny spots of blood in the middle. It’s exactly what I thought I’d see.
I leant on the side of the crib and started to weep uncontrollably as the last of my missing memories finally came flooding back to me.
I'm Not Doctor Who 