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If alien eels could smile, Prisoner Zero tried its hardest. Waving back and forth it hissed, bulbous eyes unwinking. "Ssss.. Doc-torr, you know notthhing.. sSssthe Pandorica will open, ssSssilencsse will ffall, and the Daleksss will reveal their longessst kept sssecret"
The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "Awful strange words for some...thing about to go to jail.." he remarked.
Prisoner Zero bared its teeth at him, hissing as it was teleported away.
Amy Pond sat up groggily. "Mm.. what 'appened?"
Sighing, the Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't really know, Pond... I just don't know..."
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(about 1 year after Prisoner Zero)
She tried her hardest not to flinch as the Dalek approached again. Something dripped onto the floor, though if it was tears or sweat or blood she couldn't tell.
Her hands were chained above her head, keeping her barely dangling, toes barely brushing the floor. Thin ribbons of blood trailed down her arms from where the shackles bit her flesh, splattering onto the metal floor. Her hands clenched into fists.
She knew what was coming.
Muffling a shriek, she arched her back as it drew the charged rod against her naked chest and back, adding one more burned, bloody scar to all the rest. Scars upon scars upon scars.
The dalek clicked as it spoke. Asking the same question it had asked for centuries: "Tell me your se-CRETS!"
Again the rod dragged against her flesh, seeking what little unmarked skin she had left. Aside from her face, there wasn't much left.
Her head lolled limply forward, as it always did, red hair glistening, streaked darker with blood. Under her closed lids, her violet eyes searched endlessly, always looking for an escape. Her tears washed two trails through the grime on her cheeks; pale skin contrasting sharply with all the angry red. Her lips were mumbling, singing a song in a language the dalek knew too well.
The dalek whirred as it turned its eyespout back and forth in confusion.
"Ex-plain. EX-PLAIN" it wailed, gun-stick waving, as it tried to understand, as it always did.
She was singing, in a lost language.
She was singing, of hope and despair and years of pain and loneliness.
She was singing, sending her plea for help to the universe.
She was singing, in a lost language, a language few knew.
The language of Gallifrey.
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"Amy, flip that switch there. No the big one, big one.. Oy! Rory! Take a peep out the door, will you? I think we're going by some interesting nebulas."
The Ponds hurried to follow the Doctor's commands, Rory casually sidling up to the Time Lord.
"Um.. Doctor.." he hesitated.
The Doctor ran his hand through his floppy hair (though it was pointless), and straightened his bowtie. Bowties are cool. A peaceful, yet confused expression came over his face. He cocked his head, as if listening to a song no one else could hear.
Rory sighed. "Doctor. Doc-tor."
Amy rolled her eyes at his attempt to catch the Doctor's attention. She swaggered up to him, leaning into his face and snapping in his ear. "OY! YOU! Rory's talkin' t'you."
He blinked rapidly a few times, startled. "Ah. Yes. Well. Did you hear that?"
The Ponds shook their heads no.
The Doctor frowned. "I thought I could hear.. someone... Never mind. What was it Rory?"
Rory shrugged, gesturing vaguely with his hands. "I don't really know. There's some sorta. Big.. blue glow-y thing bouncing against the TARDIS..."
Rushing to the doors, the Doctor threw them open (despite Rory's protests).
Sure enough, a melon-sized ball of blue energy shot into the pocket of his tweed jacket. The Doctor grinned, pulling out the psychic paper.
Amy raised an eyebrow. "What.. exactly is that?"
He looked at the black leather wallet excitedly. "I've gotten a telepathic message. Some thought so strong that it literally-" He poked the air with his finger "-pierces a whole in the universe coming to land-" The wallet was brandished triumphantly "-in the psychic paper. One single thought that was so concentrated on that it was projected onto the Time Vortex."
Reading the message, his expression turned grim.
"What does it say?" Amy asked, leaning in.
Wordlessly, he turned it around.
On the white page was a red, almost bloody scrawl.
Two Words.
Help Me
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Hey y'all! This story will be a DoctorxOC story.. This is my first attempt- please no flames! Comments, suggestions, and constructive criticism is always appreciated! =)
Disclaimer: I don't own DW... if I did then I wouldn't need to write this story- I would directly film it ;)
I don't like writing violence, so don't worry- the bloody torture stuff won't last long- only for another chapter or so (if that). Romance is soon to come!
Review my dears :)
