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For what felt like the third or fourth time in the span of a few hours, the TARDIS crashed to the ground. On this occasion, her Time Lord companion found himself jettisoned from the now blacked-out space ship.
Landing face-first through a patch of grass not quite tall enough to conceal an adult velociraptor, the Doctor let out a soft, dirt-filed groan as he planted his palms and pushed himself up from the blanket of crushed blades beneath him. As he rose to his feet, the first thing that struck him was the darkness overhead—it was the dead of night and the sky was devoid of stars. The second thing was the scent of summertime in the air—thick, almost oppressive heat that clung to him even amid the wisps of pollen-scented wind that brushed passed his scraped visage. In a strange way, his surroundings smelled almost like Earth, but not in that nostalgic sense he felt when he stepped out onto the green world. This smell felt synthetic… forced, even.
I need new clothes… The Time Lord glanced down and saw three of the toes on his left foot jutting out from what seemed to be a fresh gash in his rapidly decaying Converse All-Stars.
Focus.
The Doctor shook his head a few times as he turned back toward the smoldering TARDIS. The old girl had landed on her side, and with her front doors missing, the Time Lord could crane his neck and see the majority of the console room. Aside from twisted heaps of machine bits and coral, there was no sign of his newfound friend from Nashville.
“Kesha?” The raggedy man spoke softly as he turned his attention toward his surroundings. Tall grass spread out for nearly half an acre in every direction, but beyond that, there were massive trees that only helped to saturate his surroundings in yet more darkness. To the north, he spotted a thin copse of trees that provided a poor veil for something large and foreboding. Straining his vision, the Time Lord’s eyes widened as he realized that it was a house—a mansion, based on its monstrous size—looming ahead.
Bang!
Turning and instinctively dropping into a crouch in the tall grass, the Doctor looked toward the forest. He was discombobulated from the regeneration process, but there was no mistaking the sound of a gunshot. When several more rang out in the following moments, he could quickly dispel any remaining doubt. Somewhere into the forest to the south, he heard howls—almost those of a dog but not quite. He heard shouting—distinct, human voice trying to communicate with one another.
A man in sunglasses was the first to emerge from the tree line—his eyes craning upward before he aimed his weapon back into the trees and fired.
Seconds later, three others came spilling out from the trees. Along with the Doctor, they all craned their necks at the sound of the engine in the sky. The Time Lord tilted his head as he watched the helicopter zip passed them before twisting and making a clear bee-line to any part of the world that wasn’t this one.
“No! Don’t go! ” One of them screamed before someone else started to fire back into the woods.
The group started to run, and despite his lack of information about the current situation, the Doctor found himself starting to backpedal. He came to a dead stop when he saw that the lone woman in the group had a faded streak of purple in her blonde bangs.
“There, Kesha! Run for that house!” The same young man shouted as the group broke into a mad dash from whatever had stalked and hounded them through the woods.
“What?” The vagrant muttered, taking turns looking at the house and then the group of approaching people. As they drew closer, he noticed that they were wearing what appeared to be Special Forces gear or at least something similar. “What?” The Time Lord reiterated; his mouth ajar as he tried to process the situation. After a moment, there was only one thought that came to his mind.
“What?”
Kesha hooked an arm around the man’s elbow and yanked him along with her dash.
“Time to run again, Raggedy Man.”
Landing face-first through a patch of grass not quite tall enough to conceal an adult velociraptor, the Doctor let out a soft, dirt-filed groan as he planted his palms and pushed himself up from the blanket of crushed blades beneath him. As he rose to his feet, the first thing that struck him was the darkness overhead—it was the dead of night and the sky was devoid of stars. The second thing was the scent of summertime in the air—thick, almost oppressive heat that clung to him even amid the wisps of pollen-scented wind that brushed passed his scraped visage. In a strange way, his surroundings smelled almost like Earth, but not in that nostalgic sense he felt when he stepped out onto the green world. This smell felt synthetic… forced, even.
I need new clothes… The Time Lord glanced down and saw three of the toes on his left foot jutting out from what seemed to be a fresh gash in his rapidly decaying Converse All-Stars.
Focus.
The Doctor shook his head a few times as he turned back toward the smoldering TARDIS. The old girl had landed on her side, and with her front doors missing, the Time Lord could crane his neck and see the majority of the console room. Aside from twisted heaps of machine bits and coral, there was no sign of his newfound friend from Nashville.
“Kesha?” The raggedy man spoke softly as he turned his attention toward his surroundings. Tall grass spread out for nearly half an acre in every direction, but beyond that, there were massive trees that only helped to saturate his surroundings in yet more darkness. To the north, he spotted a thin copse of trees that provided a poor veil for something large and foreboding. Straining his vision, the Time Lord’s eyes widened as he realized that it was a house—a mansion, based on its monstrous size—looming ahead.
Bang!
Turning and instinctively dropping into a crouch in the tall grass, the Doctor looked toward the forest. He was discombobulated from the regeneration process, but there was no mistaking the sound of a gunshot. When several more rang out in the following moments, he could quickly dispel any remaining doubt. Somewhere into the forest to the south, he heard howls—almost those of a dog but not quite. He heard shouting—distinct, human voice trying to communicate with one another.
A man in sunglasses was the first to emerge from the tree line—his eyes craning upward before he aimed his weapon back into the trees and fired.
Seconds later, three others came spilling out from the trees. Along with the Doctor, they all craned their necks at the sound of the engine in the sky. The Time Lord tilted his head as he watched the helicopter zip passed them before twisting and making a clear bee-line to any part of the world that wasn’t this one.
“No! Don’t go! ” One of them screamed before someone else started to fire back into the woods.
The group started to run, and despite his lack of information about the current situation, the Doctor found himself starting to backpedal. He came to a dead stop when he saw that the lone woman in the group had a faded streak of purple in her blonde bangs.
“There, Kesha! Run for that house!” The same young man shouted as the group broke into a mad dash from whatever had stalked and hounded them through the woods.
“What?” The vagrant muttered, taking turns looking at the house and then the group of approaching people. As they drew closer, he noticed that they were wearing what appeared to be Special Forces gear or at least something similar. “What?” The Time Lord reiterated; his mouth ajar as he tried to process the situation. After a moment, there was only one thought that came to his mind.
“What?”
Kesha hooked an arm around the man’s elbow and yanked him along with her dash.
“Time to run again, Raggedy Man.”