Before continuing, please be aware that all of this content is made possible by the goodwill and support of my backers on Patreon. If you enjoy the work on this site, please consider supporting the creation of more content like this by clicking the button.
Somewhere in a greasy East End alley, between the fish and chip wrappers and the stench of something half-dead, the Doctor and Evelyn stumble into Project: Twilight—and immediately wish they hadn’t.
This one’s grimy in a good way. Less “vampires in cloaks with a pipe organ” and more “vampires in tracksuits threatening you behind a dodgy casino.” It’s moody, modern, and absolutely wallowing in the kind of horror that makes your skin crawl—not because of the monsters (though they’re plenty horrific), but because of the people who made them.
This is the debut of The Forge, a sinister little black-ops group that basically looked at UNIT and said, “What if we were evil and allergic to consent?” The villains here aren’t moustache-twirling loons—they’re lab coats with no off-switch. People who treat human lives like petri dishes. And right in the middle of it is Cassie.
Let’s talk about her, because she’s what makes this story hit harder than it otherwise might. Cassie is just a girl trying to survive, caught in a nightmare she didn’t choose, and transformed into something monstrous against her will. What follows is not some sexy vampire power fantasy. It’s trauma. Plain and gut-wrenching. The way she breaks—slowly, then all at once—is handled with such raw realism that it cuts through the sci-fi sheen. She’s betrayed, used, and reshaped by people who see her as a tool, not a person. And yet she still clings to humanity, even as it’s bleeding out of her.
Evelyn’s bond with her is beautifully written—Evelyn, ever the moral compass, doesn’t treat Cassie like a monster but like someone who’s suffering. Her compassion is the antidote to everything else in this story: the coldness, the violence, the dehumanisation. A cup of cocoa never felt more like a middle finger to evil.
The story itself is tight, with a creeping tension that ratchets up steadily. The twist that the gangland cronies are literal vampires works surprisingly well, mostly because it doesn’t try to be subtle. They’re mean, territorial, and terrifyingly banal in their cruelty. You could imagine bumping into them at a dive bar and not realising they’d just drained a guy out back. That’s the horror. It’s close.
Enter Nimrod, our resident cyborg monster-hunter with the most unfortunate codename this side of an edgy X-Men issue. He’s technically terrifying but also slightly silly, like if the Terminator read Lovecraft and developed a superiority complex. Still, he works in context, and his scenes with the Doctor add an extra layer of dread.
The ending doesn’t totally land—things wrap a bit too neatly for a story steeped in this much blood—but the ride is worth it. There’s a weight here, a sadness that lingers long after the audio stops. This isn’t a story that sings, exactly, but it howls. Quietly. And in pain.
Final Thoughts:
Keep your neck covered and your empathy switched on.
4 out of 5 genetically-modified cockney bloodsuckers.