Kalaan knew her parents would not have approved of her late night walks outside of the village. They had made the rules perfectly clear to her when she was no more than a toddler. It wasn't safe after dark, they said. The doors and windows were to be firmly shuttered and that was that. But she was smart, she was savvy, and she could take care of herself. She was fourteen years old, after all. What did she need adults for? All they did was ruin things.

She swore up and down that she would never, ever let herself become like them. No spontaneity, no sense of adventure, no drive, and no ambition. None of her elders - neither of her parents nor any of her four grandparents - had ever even ventured outside the village. Maybe she was different. Maybe she was Touched with the Red, as her father had said. Maybe she was just a freak, like her brother continually insisted. It didn't really matter to her what she was; just what she didn't intend to become.

What Kalaan would never, ever be was one of those stodgy members of the Order. The very thought made her shiver. Praying all day in a monastery wearing the white robes with blue trim that were standard garb of the office made her skin crawl. It was all her parents seemed to aspire to in their whole lives. Well, not her. She would die before she let that happen.

Granted, going out for a walk at midnight wasn't exactly thrilling on the same scale as sailing across the ocean to the Unknown Continent, or going to the highlands to climb up the sheer rock walls. Anything you could do in a dressing gown and slippers without anyone noticing the next day just from the state of you at breakfast could hardly be considered an adventure to shake the foundation of the ages. But it was there, it was within reach, and it made her happy while offering a chance to rebel against her parents. That pretty much made it a plan with no drawbacks.

She had sampled the summer night air by accident when her window blew open one night, but it was intoxicating. She couldn't get enough, heaving lungful after lungful of the stuff. It wasn't like the smell of the earth after it rained; this was pervasive. No matter how much she smelled it, it didn't fade.

Further, the view out her window was too picturesque to simply ignore behind closed shutters. A hundred thousand - perhaps a million - points of blue light waved in the distance, surrounding the village, creating a sea of undulating stars around the settlement. And it was beautiful, but it also marked the artificial boundary that made her world so very small.

It was silent out but for the rustling of the warm breeze through the trees, but when the wind did die down it was the sort of pervasive silence that seemed even louder than the sounds before them. She loved it, loved the dichotomy of it. It was like her life in many ways; quiet and tempered for her parents' eyes, but with a wild streak that she didn't let anyone else see.

Of course, if she didn't have to take her walks alone, that might be a different story. It was a foolishly romantic thought that she couldn't quite shake; maybe she'd find a nice boy to share these midnight adventures with sometime. The thought made her smile as she walked along the outermost path, by the fields of light. But the one that came after did not - Daneel.

Daneel was a year ahead of her in school, and didn't seem to realize that they lived on the same planet, let alone in the same village. The only one Daneel cared about was stupid Chal. Stupid, beautiful Chal with her stupid brown hair. Kalaan hated her own hair, with the ugly blonde curls everywhere. Why couldn't she have perfect brown, straight hair, like the one stealing all of Daneel's attention?

No sooner had this thought flashed through her mind then she heard a noise, a rustling sound behind her. This time it was no wind, though. This was closer, heavier, more deliberate. Like something moving through the tall grass, stalking her. She stopped and did a half turn, then thought better of it and quickened her pace instead. She had heard stories from the other children of creatures that lived in the meadows and attacked people, but she hadn't ever seen one. It had to be just a stupid kids' story, right? If there was any such animal, an adult would have said so at some point these last fourteen years. They would have studied them in school.

But then again, why were her parents always so adamant that the windows and doors be shuttered at night? Suddenly she felt that she had had enough of rebellion, and that maybe going home was the much better choice at this point. She didn't want to take her defiance so far as to be mauled or eaten; somehow that seemed counterproductive.

She turned around on the path again, still hearing the rustling sounds from the grass beside her. As each terrifying thought came to her mind, the rustling grew louder, in a never ending cycle. She was finally within sight of the house when the rustling stopped. A large figure appeared in the meadow, seeming to suck up the darkness around it like a cocoon, and glided into her path. She screamed and turned around again, but the thing raised an arm, pointed it at her back, and let loose an appendage like a whip. It wrapped itself around her ankles and she fell to the ground, crying out in pain and fear. The thing reeled her in, flipped her onto her back, and touched a second tentacle to her forehead. She screamed once, and then all she saw was darkness.

When Tannus, who owned the bakery, found her the next morning, she was unresponsive, laying on her back staring up into the sky, smiling maniacally and giggling softly to herself.

DAVID TENNANT

DIANNA AGRON

DOCTOR WHO

THE HARVESTING DARKNESS