A/N: This is my first Doctor Who story. Please read and review!
Summary: This is the story of how the last of humanity chose to become the Toclafane. It might end up just being a one-shot, but I hope to add more chapters to it later.
Running From The Dark
Hanna stared at the great machine that promised salvation. It would turn them immortal, they said. With this grand new invention, they could live. They could escape the dark and the cold, the terrible cold that burned and invaded. The oxygen shell saved them from freezing to death, but it was not enough. They could still feel the cold, aching in their bones.
Hanna knew that there could be no escape. They had fled to Utopia. Hanna had been there that wonderful day when they were finally able to fly. It was a legend now. The day the Doctor came with Captain Jack and Martha Jones, the kind, wonderful, people who helped them to fly.
Utopia was supposed to be the escape. The skies would be made of diamonds, there would be light and warmth, and they would not have to fear the dark that crept through the universe as the stars died one by one.
Humanity had survived for 500 trillion years, but everything was dying now. There was no hope but Utopia and Utopia offered no escape, just empty dreams. There were no diamonds, just the dark.
So they built the great forges. They needed light and warmth but even a thousand forges weren't enough, couldn't be enough. Everything was dead, even the stars were black and cold. They were the remnants, the last of humanity screaming at the dark.
But they said this plan would work. They could live forever. They would fly across the universe and find a way to escape the end of everything. This was their new hope, their only hope.
Hanna didn't believe it. It was just another Utopia, another useless dream. She knew there were no diamonds, they all knew now, but there was no end to the desperate, wild, hope of humanity.
So they would follow every impossible plan, any impossible plan. They would lock themselves in shells, impenetrable metal spheres armed to blaze across the universe. They still believed that there had to be a way out. There was always a way out.
Hanna had come to this meeting like they all had come: desperate, afraid, but willing to believe in any hope that she could escape the dark. She had sworn that she had only come to listen. She would not be a fool, would not fling herself off a cliff because a madman told her she would fly. But this…
She stared at the contraption. They said that it would tear them apart and make them new and shiny and free. With this they could escape the dark together. She knew there was no chance but she could feel the dark, waiting, hungry. What choice was there?
Hanna closed her eyes and joined the others, waiting in line to be made new. Just like the line for the rocket, it was a chance to fly, and Hanna was desperate to fly, as desperate as they all were. They knew what waited here.
As she hurried forward with the crowd, one thought echoed through her mind, through all their minds. "We must escape the dark, and the terrible, terrible, cold. We must run and run and run!"