The Broken Marionette
Summary: He used to be their puppet. But now the puppet master is gone, and he is left broken.
Dark
chambers of my mind
Locked around the neck of my love
None of
you understand
And it doesn't matter
To a broken marionette
like me
-
Nightwish, Live to tell the Tale
His room is dark.
It was never really brightly coloured, well, apart from when Six lived in it. The memories still send a shudder down his spine.
His room is dark and he likes it that way.
Darkness means he can hide.
Darkness means he can escape.
If he were human, he would be able to end it here. In the darkness. Alone.
But he is not. If he were, he would also have no reason to do so.
Because he would never have heard of Gallifrey.
Of them.
Of the aloof puppet masters of the universe, and the metal husks that caused their destruction.
Light comes from the sun. From fire. And there is enough fire in his nightmares to last him a lifetime.
Any human's mind would have overloaded by now. Any human would be mad, or dead.
He is not human. But he is not sure whether he has gone mad, and this cold eternal night cannot be called life.
If he would end it, he could. But he has too many lives ahead of him, and in his mentally numb state, he cannot find the energy to end them all.
So he sits in the darkness.
The oncoming storm, stilled.
Ka Faraq Gatri, never more alone.
The Bringer of Darkness, hiding inside it.
His room is dark and he hates it that way.