So, another story. I've been working on my Soul Eater fanfiction, slowly. That'll be updating every now and then, but I can't always use the computer. I've been writing some other stuff, as well. I'm such a Whovian now, so I really want to write this.

I dunno when I'll be able to post. I'll go for often, but, you know? Busy. School and such.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, Torchwood, or anything else mentioned in this fanfiction that isn't mine and stuff.

Oh, and this takes place just after the sixth season. Haven't seen the seventh yet, since it's not on Netflix and I don't want to pirate it. It'll help you understand this story better if you watch Episode 3 of Season 2 of Doctor Who, "Tooth and Claw."

Enjoy~

Huddled in a cold stone cell by herself, the girl shivered. It was pitch black, even though her nightvision was so much better than a normal person's. The cell was kept in total darkness and there was a loose, dark cloth bag tied over her head, a blindfold over her eyes. Her clothes weren't normal, ratty prisoner's rags, but thick, black cloth that covered every inch of her skin. Her arms were tied over her head to the wall with chains - an alloy made from steel and silver. Her legs were bound as well, by similar chains. she had little room to move on her own. She was forced to sit, hours on end, in an almost fetal position, her arms in the air. Sometimes, she was bound even tighter by more chains, of the same steel-and-silver alloy, always for a week once a month. Woven into the chain links were sprigs of mistletoe woven into vines. There were no windows in the room. There was one door, a large, thick, heavy wooden door finished with mistletoe oil. There was no knob inside, and only opened inwards. The hallway outside was cold, solid stone as well, with mistletoe lining the walls.

The plants and the silver hurt her, even through her thick clothes. She'd stopped struggling long ago. Once a day she was fed by heavily armed guards. She received half-cooked meat, stale bread, rotted fruits and vegetables, sometimes some slightly moldy cheese. Table scraps. Rarely, one of the guards would feel compassion for her and bring her fresher, proper food, or a sweet, or a dessert. She knew, in the food, and the stagnant water and cold, bitter tea, there were drugs to keep her sedated, but she was so hungry, thirsty. If she protested, tried to communicate with the guards, she would be beaten, most often with a silver rod or a wooden club steeped in mistletoe oil. Her body was covered in scars from having her blood drawn, from medical experiments, from beatings.

She stopped fighting now. What was the point? She could never get out.

But worse than the physical torture was the psychological torment. What had she done to deserve this? Nothing but love a man. He'd made a mistake in loving her. It wasn't her fault the prince... no, no, he was the king now...

Curse him, her once-lover, the king.

She hated him, but still... she loved him. Why? She had no idea.

She wanted nothing more than to get out, and be free. Thoughts of revenge had plagued her mind in the beginning, but now she just wanted to be let go. To never see the king or any of the royal family ever again. She didn't care if he lived or died now. She just wanted freedom. Release from this prison. Even death would be welcome, but she couldn't think of a way to do it that wouldn't give her more torture.

She would be fine, set free. She could control it. Better than the king, or his mother, or his siblings.

So why was she the one stuck here? The royal family had the same thing. The only reason it was her here was because the king was afraid of her.

She lifted her head. Even though she was so far away, in the dark, underground, she felt that pull. Sensed it was time. But bound as she was, the beast was trapped inside her.

She was connected to the moon. She knew it wasn't normal. There was the monster inside her, but she loved that creature now. At first, they both fought, the beast wanted to consume everyone, kill everything, but the fight had left them both. They were unified now. Wanting only freedom. The beast had seen all her thoughts, and did not want to kill anymore. An animal instinct inside her head now, instead of a murderous monster like the king.

She just wanted to run. The bathe in the white moonlight and run and run in the warm summer night air. She and the beast wanted that same thing.

A faint, faraway howl ripped through the silent air.

A tear dripped into the blindfold covering her eyes.

Please help me... Please, free me...

So, there you go. Prologue stuff. That was depressing. It'll get better, though!

I started watching Torchwood. Not bad, but much more... What's the word? Less sophisticated than Doctor Who. Can't think of the word. Dunno. Whatever.

Alright, that's all for now! Bye for now, though I shall see you in a while. Or a while ago. Time travel, always gets to your head, can never keep dates straight!

~Enzeru