Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or resemblances to that of the TV show Doctor Who.
The Lost Planet
The year was 3928, as forgotten as everything on the planet. Once, the planet was thriving, filled with many cultures and species, it was intended as a place of ingenuity. For brilliant minds to join together and create solutions, to help, but as all that is successful, it must end. Because the industry was built on victory, the residents were not prepared for failure. When the concept that the economy thrived on failed, everything burned. At the end, one remained in the rubble, the creator of the planet, left to writhe in the misery of failure.
Zosime stepped through the arch, where a door hung askew from a bending hinge, into the rain. The rain trickled through her white hair and down her neck; she enjoyed few circumstances of existence, the pouring rain being one of them. She whirled as the water surrounded her in a cold embrace, her yellow dress clinging to her body as if she might offer it protection; despite the chill that ran down her spine, she remained outside. A bright flash light up the sky, Zosime expanded her mind, searching for her new treasure, lost, but waiting diligently to be found. She fell to her knees, reaching her hands into the earth below, allowing the mud to seep through her fingers. She could feel the disturbance in her land; it was just past her oldest home, an outline rose in her mind, a square object. She rose to her feet deftly, the earth guiding her feet; she could feel the pull, edging her to go faster as she neared her destination.
She knelt, examining the object, pulling each detail into her memory for her to enjoy at a later time. She marveled at the beauty, how anyone could forget an object such as this was beyond her comprehension. She ran her fingers along the edge of the cabinet, tracing the vine entangled within the ruby wood. She moved her hands to the bottom, lifting the item with ease, carrying it into the house nearest her, the house with blue chipped paint. She set it in the middle of the cramped sitting room, full of various clutter. She sat in front of the cabinet, taking in the beauty of the designs inlaid within the wood. Finally she could not control the anticipation any longer, she reached for the copper handle, lifting it and allowing the door of the cabinet to swing open. Her eyes filled with tears as she beheld what was within the wooden container.
The hollows emptied of their eyes stared at her, filling her heart with dread. She had seen the dead too often, permanently marring the purity of her mind. She slammed the cabinet door shut, picked the cabinet back up and brought it outside; the rain had stopped suddenly, as it always did. She wondered what the next rain would bring her, hopefully something more pleasant. She walked sullenly, her eyes overcast with dark clouds; she trudged forward, towards where the heart of her metropolis has once stood proud and tall. After walking for what seemed like hours she arrived at the bowl in the ground was where she disposed of that which disturbed her. She opened the cabinet once again, taking a sorrowful look at the skeleton within. The small body cramped and pained, begging for release from the terrible prison that had once trapped it ages ago. Zosime cringed as she reached in, gingerly removing the body, allowing it final freedom before nudging it off the cliff, to fall into the pile of rubble at the bottom. She then kicked the cabinet to follow; the high fall broke the prison, the wood splintering and flying in multiple directions. A single tear flowed down her porcelain skin; she turned and headed towards her forest to reflect.