The Doctor lowered his voice and with a serious glint in his eye asked, “Who’s behind that curtain?” At first, the vicar seemed to be having an inner struggle. He gurgled and gasped as if in pain. “Who is it! Who? Tell me who it is.” The Doctor demanded hoarsely. The vicar finally stuttered out haltingly “I–I–he is…he is…evil. Beware. He is darkness, eternal darkness. He is…pain. So much pain.” The vicar gave a little cry. He straightened his posture and began speaking in a clipped formal voice that did not quite sound like his own. “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.”

The Doctor made an incredulous face. “Hang on?” He peered suspiciously at the vicar. “You’re not going to tell me to follow a yellow brick road, are you?” The vicar remained silent. He eyed the vicar speculatively, eyes narrowing. It always angered him to see humans held mentally hostage by forces they could not control. He got in the vicar’s face, demanding, “What man, eh? What are you afraid of? Who’s controlling you?” Suddenly the vicar clutched his head and screamed. The Doctor knelt beside him and felt for a pulse. The vicar was stone dead. Sadness crept over his features. “I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry this was done to you.” He hung his head for a brief moment, then bounced up and glared in the direction of the alcove.

The Doctor spoke out loud, his voice clearly ringing in the rafters. It was a voice he’d once used when addressing the High Council of his now vanished planet, Galifrey. “I don’t know who or what you are, or what your game is, but heed my words. I am going to stop you. Oh yes, I’m going to put an end to this, or I’m not the last Time Lord–and actually, I am. So this is the only chance you get. Leave this place, or I will destroy you.”

In answer, a hissing noise issued from behind the curtain, and a thin trail of noxious gas began to fill the chapel. Covering his face with his tie, the Doctor fled towards the chapel’s only door. As he reached it, it slammed shut in his face.

Meanwhile, in the cemetery, Martha stayed crouched behind the tree, watching wide-eyed, as the coffin was raised out of the ground, hovered for a moment, and settled onto the grass. She stared with a mixture of both horror and mere human curiosity. Martha shivered in the damp air, wishing the Doctor where there with her. “Still,” she thought, “I’ve got this thing-a-ma-wots-it he gave me.” She pulled it out and looked at the little box that looked suspiciously like a television remote. “What could go wrong?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that. The pallid man smiled as the lid of the coffin slowly began to rise.