Disclaimer: The Host belongs to Stephanie Meyer, Doctor Who belongs to BBC Wales, so I don't own anything

The Time Lord and the Soul

Voices.

We crouched down behind some craters automatically. It wouldn't do for the Souls to find us here. They would call the Seekers. I could make some excuse, but once they saw my human family...

What were they doing here? We had checked, this depot shut down at 10pm sharp, it was now 11:45

Were they Seekers? Had we been seen? What were they saying?

"So each time you..."

"Die."

"But you don't"

"It feels like it."

"So each time you die and regenerate, your new body is younger than the old one?"

"There's no hard and fast rule. But in my species, our body wearing thin is the main cause of death. Regenerating into another body that is already going on a bit is a waste of a life. Now I don't have the typical occupation, so when I change to a younger body, it escalates because I die young."

This man had a British accent while the other had an American twang. I looked at my group; Ian, Mel, Jared. The strangers were Seekers, they had to be. Jared and Ian had the Still ready.

They walked right by our hiding place.

I didn't watch. I heard them cry out and a dull thud when one went down. The other resisted. Odd. Still worked on everyone, on our bodies, so human or Soul, both groups felt its effects.

The Seeker sneezed and coughed. I heard the sounds of a struggle, a muffled thump of a fist and quiet.

They were handsome. One had black hair and wore a long blue coat. I remembered seeing one in a human history museum, or rather my memories of Mel's memories. It was from what they had called World War 2. I snorted, human had always been at war.

The other had brown hair that stuck up at odd angles. He wore a pinstripe suit, tan coat and converses. He had a bloody lip.

Jared was searching their pockets. He found a gun and a weird watchstrap on War guy and a blue pen thing and a wallet with a piece of blank paper in Stripes' pockets.

I shuddered as Mel took the gun. They had to be Seekers; no other Soul could bear to carry such a weapon.

Ian flashed a light in their eyes. The dark haired man's blue eyes reflected back, the silver of the Soul shining under the glow. The brown haired man's eyes were a deep brown. Dark chocolate and nothing else. No Soul.

"His heartbeat is way too fast."

"Let's get them to Doc."

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