View source for Run for the Tardis or Amy's dead

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| publication = The Times 
| file = 2010-06-28 Times Mind Games.jpg
| px = 500
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| date = 2010-06-28
| author = Chloe Lambert 
| pages = Mind Games, p. 4
| language = English 
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| text = 
Your Dr Who stories were as irresistible as a Dalek battle fleet, says Chloe Lambert


We received hundreds of brilliant entries in our Dr Who story-writing competition. The challenge was to continue the nail-biting story The Claws of Macra, in which you, the Doctor and Amy, his sidekick, are trapped inside a gas refinery. A seething mass of baby alien crabs, known as Macra, is crawling towards you as the Doctor tries desperately to unlock the door with his sonic screwdriver. 

Some of you decided that the Macra could talk, while others described an enormous, terrifying Mother Macra coming to protect her babies. There were gravity boots, trapdoors and even old Dr Whos from the past turning up to help out. Your stories were gripping, frightening, lively and funny: here is the winning entry by 14-year-old Lucy Farrell. Congrat-ulations, Lucy!

Well done to our runners-up, who also wrote fantastic Dr Who stories: Jonah Taylor, 10; Thomas Lockley, 10; Bradley Mackey, 12; and Ieuan Hughes, 12.

Dr Who: Interactive Survival Guide is out now (£5.99, BBC Books; doctorwhochildrensbooks.co.uk)

Your ears ring uncontrollably from the sound of the Macra's claws aggressively pounding the cold metal floor. "Doctor, time's up, it's time to go," you shout over the chattering claws. Your eyes pull away from the army of claws and you turn around, pushing Amy and the Doctor to the side. You can barely hear the Doctor's cries as your breathing deepens and increases. You shove open the door with your shoulder and the chunky metal sheet opens with a faint click.

"Inside!" you yell. The Doctor sprints in after you, with Amy limping behind him.

"Amy? What's wrong?" You don't need an answer to realise. Her leg has turned orangey-red, with a shiny, hard texture. Cracks zigzag across her skin into a tiny blue hole that's oozing blood. The Doctor cautiously reaches forward and dabs Amy's bite with the tip of his finger. He licks the blood and ponders, deep in thought.

"Doctor, that's disgusting. This is no time ..."

"Quiet, Amy! You're not helping. If my tastebuds are correct, you only have a few hours left."

All you can do is stare at Amy's claw-like leg. The Doctor suddenly scoops Amy up into his arms and starts running into the main chamber.

"Where are we going, Doctor?" you shout, out of breath, while trying to move your lead-heavy legs.

"Where I always go ... to the Tardis." The Doctor smiles. The blue box comes into view.

We jump inside.

"Tree of Wingola, here we come ..."

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