Living In Flames

by Nolongerexists16724

The Time War is over, but for the Doctor, it never ends. He is a changed man, broken and different from his previous self. He has a craving, an urge, one that he's never had before. Serial Killer AU. Follows Through 9, 10 and 11. T for now, but ratings may change. Will contain canon companions.

1. Chapter 1

Authors Note: Okay. Hi. Welcome to my new story. Thank you for deciding to give it a chance. And if you read any of my others, know that I am so, so sorry. First things first. This is a serial killer AU, and while its tame now, it won't be later, so you're warned. Now, as this is a serial killer AU, the Doctor is going to be a serial killer. In saying that, I have tried to keep what I felt, was his core aspects for each regeneration, whether it's 9, 10, or 11, and just twisted that to make them more serial killery. This takes place directly after the time war, and changes main plots of the show to some extent, mostly the later seasons. So, I hope you enjoy.

Part 1

Prologue

War. Anger. Hate. Death. So much death, so much blood. It surrounded him, a hazy mist of emotions, of action, horrific and all consuming. His world was burning, he was burning. He could feel it, creeping through his veins, itching under his skin. Walking through the dead, flames licking at his sides, he picked up his pace, striding towards the TARDIS. The burning became more intense, spreading to his mind, his skin on fire. He was almost there.

A hand gripped his leg, the feeling of talon like fingers dug into his skin, reaching through his seared and tattered pants. They felt like ice on his burning skin. Looking down, he gazed into the sorrowful eyes of what had to be one of the few survivors. He bent down, eyes never breaking contact, hands reaching for his neck, and snapped, watching the eyes become glass. Better that than a slow death from fire, or blood loss. Judging from the wound on the man's torso, it was amazing he was even still alive. It had been right to end his suffering, merciful. He stiffened as he grew hotter, the pain becoming too much. He had to hurry.

Kicking the body away, he continued, and eventually, made it, gasping his way into the console room. The fire in his blood turned lethal, and he screamed, throwing his head back, collapsing onto his knees, golden light seeping out of every pore.

He would be a new man, he would rip his way into the world, alone. He would be a new man. A broken man.

But he would go screaming.