A Story For Fifty
"Geronimo!" a tall, lanky, raggedy man yelled as he dashed through decrepit corridor after corridor, sparks and wires flailing all around him.
After what seemed like another full minute of running, he stops for a moment, looking upwards into a camera. It was oddly shaped, a large sphere with eight meridians along its circumference and a glowing blue lens as a camera piece. It swivels a bit, the man furrowing his eyes and narrowing his brow. He frowns a bit. Looking back, he notices other cameras pointed at him. In the extensive room lay pieces of war torn material, some from different parts of the galaxy and from different races. Cybermen limbs, Auton parts, Silurian masks. Blood from various species lay splattered across the walls of the dimly lit facility.
"Is this everything you have, then?" the man rolls his eyes. "Every time you capture me, you take me to some torn up planet and expected to die?"
The camera only swivels in reply, causing the man to frown once more. He looks up menacingly now, hands clenched. He stares at the orb and it stared back with the same cold stare.
"Listen here," the man spat. "I've walked alongside you since your genesis. I've watched as you evolved and conjured up millions of ways to destroy and kill. I've watched you die and die again, only for you to come back stronger and more powerful. I've fought against you and on rare occasions I've worked alongside you. We have been against each other for over millennia and yet to me, it seems like it's only been fifty years and I know you lot can do so much better. Now, I want to ask you this."
The camera swivels even more, the lens staring at the man's face.
"How do you think this will end?"
"We do not know the meaning of that," the booming echo of a rough, mechanical, staccato voice fills the corridor, prompting the movement of some far off object. "As long as you live, Doctor, this shall never end. The Daleks will be victorious!"
"I believe that's what you've said during our encounter before this."
"We have miscalculated. We shall retry once more. Victory shall be ours! Victory! Victory!"
"Well I don't think you'll fare any better this time," the Doctor grins, taking out his sonic screwdriver and activating it for good measure. "The Dalek Armada may have over a hundred million ships just waiting for me to get out of this mess but I am sure that…oh wait no. 98.5% sure that I can escape you once more. Just watch."
With that, the ancient man runs once more, speeding through the damaged recesses of the hellhole he was currently stuck in as the Dalek's voice booms in his ears.
"We shall then use the 1.5% chance that you shall fail against you. You will be brought down by the Daleks. This will be the last day of the Doctor. The Dalek race will rejoice as we arise from this conflict as the true victors of the Time War."
Once again, the Doctor rolls his eyes, muttering to himself as to what he needed to do, as well as his current situation. His TARDIS was onboard the Dalek Flagship, perhaps guarded by thousands of Daleks. His companion seemed to have disappeared. There was also a horde of Daleks chasing right behind him, or maybe in front of him now as he had taken the time to talk to the Dalek Supreme. Bugger. Jumping over a broken Cyberman, he quickly turns a corner.
He feels pain: a searing, agonizing pain. Looking down, he sees a large cavity within his chest, smouldering and scorched. Cauterized flesh and bone created an almost perfect circle around his upper abdomen. Looking up, with blood trickling from his mouth, he sees the pale white figure of what can only be the Dalek Supreme. It stares back, its unblinking stare gazing right at the man who had destroyed its race many times before. The Doctor's body starts to glow, his eyes widening and his palms open.
It moves closer as it fires another shot, this time to the right, hitting one of the Doctor's hearts. The Timelord tries to scream in pain, his lungs burning and filling with blood. The insufferable pain was almost too much for the man as he dropped to his knees, a bit of his flesh falling from his body. The Dalek moves closer once more to the point where it was almost standing right above the Doctor. It examines the dying Timelord.
It shoots once again, to the left where the suffering man's final beating heart lay. The beam of pure white energy seared through pure flesh and bone, drilling through every bit of ancient flesh. The Doctor cries out; his body not being able to take any more of the pain. He collapses, the Dalek turning and leaving the scene.
"G…Grandfather!" a worried and torn up voice exclaims. "Grandfather please be alright!"
An old, pale and weak man lay upon a hospital bed. He had been admitted almost three months ago due to severe pancreatic cancer. White, neck length hair lay underneath his head, his age clear with his image. His eyes slowly open, mouth struggling to move. His ancient and weary eyes move slowly to his side where his only family, his granddaughter, looked at him with tears in her eyes. She covered her mouth, keeping in her tears as he turned his old head and spoke as best he could.
"M…My child. Susan," he warmly smiles. "It will be alright. The Daleks have finally beaten me."
Softly he chuckles as tubing connecting his body to various machines struggled to keep him alive.
"With all these things…hooked up to me, you must think I'm a Cyberman." He tries to laugh.
"Grandfather," Susan tries to smile. Even in the direst of situations, her grandfather was always one of the men who looked at the most positive things in life. "You're the farthest thing from one of those things."
"Oh you're right," he murmurs. "I'm a Timelord. From…from…oh where was I from?"
"Gallifrey, grandfather?"
"Oh right. Yes. Gallifrey. The land of the Timelords. Where the glass was orange and the…the snow-capped ridges of Mount Perdition…lay beautifully. In…in the constellation of Kosterborous lay the most majestic planet in history."
"Indeed, grandfather."
The man smiles once more, coughing. Looking outside his hospital bed he sees the first rays of the sun rising from the cityscape. He continues to stare, his weary eyes contemplating.
"It feels like it's been over 1200 years, Susan," the man giggles. "I feel like I'm 1200 years old."
Susan smiled, tears now apparent in her eyes. "And too young to go out. Your song…cannot end, grandfather. Remember what you used to tell me as a child? How you defeated the Daleks time and time again? How you told me of your adventures with your different companions? How the universe should thank you fro your efforts. Your stories kept me entertained for the longest time, grandfather."
"And…all stories must end, my child."
"No…no they can't!"
"I'm no Timelord, Susan," the man coughs out. "I'm merely human. I cannot regenerate...oh the things I can now tell Lethbridge now. Sarah as well."
"You can try!"
"Always...a believer until the end, Susan. Re…remember this," he continued, his smile weakening. "One day…I shall come back. Yes, I shall come back. And until then, there must be no regrets, no tears and no anxieties…"
Susan's tears were truly now apparent as she held the man's hand in hers. She weakly smiled as the man finished his last sentence.
"And go forward in all your beliefs…and prove to me that…I am not mistaken in mind."
AUTHOR'S NOTE
My contribution for the 50th Anniversary for Doctor Who! It's a bit of a feels trip but I hope you enjoyed where I took you. Please read and review. And celebrate for another 50 years of Doctor Who.
-Dalektopia