The UNIT jeep screeched to a halt outside the old church. The Doctor sat in the passenger seat while Brigadier Kowlard sat in the back. Before it had come to a complete halt, the Doctor leapt out of the jeep and bounded his way towards the church. Kowlard stood up and yelled out to the Doctor. The large man did not respond, instead he kicked at the old doors and stormed into the building. Kowlard shook his head, not only at the Doctor’s retreating form, but also to stop the rain from falling from his hair into his eyes.

Lance Corporal Ashton, who had been driving the jeep, looked up from his walky-talky. ‘Sir, Greyhound Five have engaged the vampires in the Coal Hill area.’

Kowlard nodded his head grimly. ‘Good. Now, let’s get after the Doctor, shall we?’

Nicholaus smiled in satisfaction. ‘First Bradley, and now you. When Ashgotoroth rises my triumph will indeed be complete,’ he said mockingly.

The stage area was a mess. Walls were dented from the impact of bodies. The ceremonial table had broken in half, and the unconscious body containing Ashgotoroth lay on the floor before the stage; having been knocked off the altar when Nicholaus had collided with it.

He was both surprised and impressed by Alf’s physical strength and her passionate anger. Both had served her well. She had fought like a woman possessed, with no intention of giving up until one of them was dead. This suited Nicholaus fine. At first it seemed like the woman was going to win, until he had been knocked against the altar. Seeing the host body fall to the floor below had rallied Nicholaus’ energies. He had torn the stake out of his chest and attacked Alf with the ferocity of a rabid animal.

Now Alf lay on the floor before him; battered, bloody and bruised. Her wedding dress was torn, a pitiful reminder of what she had lost to the Kuang-Shi. She was barely conscious, but this did not bother Nicholaus. He did not need her to watch him make the killing move. She knew who had won, that was enough.

‘Say your prayers, little woman,’ Nicholaus said.

‘You know, I don’t think Alf is the religious type.’

Nicholaus turned around in surprise. When he saw the person behind him he was not sure if he should laugh or cry. Standing there, in his wet clothes, hair dripping, beard soaked, was the Doctor. Large than life and twice as deadly. At least, Nicholaus assumed, that was how the Doctor wanted to come across, standing there with the stake now in his hand.

‘It’s a nice thought, though,’ the Doctor added with a smile and made his move. He swung his arm, but Nicholaus was quicker. Before the Doctor realised what was happening his arm was twisted around and the stake was forced into his own chest. The Doctor balked in shock.

Nicholaus released him. ‘Wooden stakes work best on mortals, Doctor, or didn’t you realise that?’

The Doctor lifted his hand and looked at his blood curiously. With that he staggered backwards and fell through one of the broken barriers that surrounded the stage. He landed on the floor awkwardly and let out a gasp of pain. Nicholaus stepped across the stage and looked down at the mortally wounded clone.

‘Goodbye, Doctor,’ he said.

‘Goodbye yourself!’ Alf shouted from behind.

Nicholaus span around in time to witness the sword arcing towards him. The blade cut clean through his neck and his head flew through the air to land on a pew behind where the Doctor lay. The headless body dropped unceremoniously onto the stage floor.

Alf looked at the body and then across at the head of Nick. Her eyes welled up and she fell to her knees, as if all her strength had failed her in one go.

Gathering his own strength together, and doing his best to ignore the numbness around his wound, the Doctor struggled on to the stage and crawled over to Alf. He reached out for her, not daring to look at the dead body of his one-time protégé. ‘Alf…’

She did not look up. ‘I killed him,’ she said through deep gasps of breath. ‘I killed Nick.’

‘No, Alf, no you didn’t. The Kuang-Shi killed him. You just freed his body.’

This time Alf did look up. For a moment she just looked into the Doctor’s eyes, her tears continuing to flow. The Doctor sniffed, trying to not to give into the emotional pain he felt himself. He had to be strong for Alf’s sake.

Something altered in Alf’s eyes. The tears stopped and her look became harder. ‘It was you,’ she said. ‘You did it. You came back from the dead. You took Nick with you.’ Slowly Alf rose to her feet. The Doctor attempted to follow suit but he did not have the strength. ‘You did it. You killed Nick.’

Alf turned and calmly walked away, leaving the Doctor to slump onto the stage floor again. On her way out of the church she passed Brigadier Kowlard and Lance Corporal Ashton. They remained where they were, in the doorway of the hall, uncertain of what they had witnessed. They watched Alf step through the wooden doors into the storm beyond.

‘Blimey,’ Ashton said.

Kowlard nodded, turned, and made his way over to the stage.

The Doctor closed his eyes but he did not stop seeing. Images swirled around him. Planets he had visited and people he had met since his last regeneration.

Every moment of this incarnation flashing before his eyes.

He could feel the stake still embedded in one of his hearts, and he could feel the second heart trying to work twice as hard, but it was no good. Even a Time Lord body augmented by superior cloning technology could not withstand such disruption.

Another regeneration was coming on. The Doctor knew it. It was time to start again, to be reborn.

An image came to the fore. It was a man’s face, angular and thin. The image had black hair with red-died tips. Brad DeMars. This was not the image of the Kuang-Shi, but the image of the Brad that had travelled with the Doctor. The image of the Brad who had died on Nova Mondas, the one who was later revealed to be a Dommervoy Loci.

One companion lost.

Another image appeared. This time of a young boy with a livid tattoo on one side of his face. Rhalena Falex. The Doctor’s young ward that had been corrupted by an evil insidious power.

Another companion lost.

A third image. Blond hair in a ponytail, a light goatee beard. Nick McShane.

A decision was made.