Fire. Its orange glow is the last thing he sees.
Then there's only black.
The air is stale. No movement. No life.
He screams but nobody can hear him.
Only the darkness.
"LET ME OUT!" he roars until his throat is raw.
He splutters. Water. He needs water. There's nothing here.
Not a drop. No damp on the walls, no leak from the ceiling.
Nothing to sustain life. Just a box to imprison it.
"There was a goblin, or a trickster, or a warrior"
There was a Time Lord who didn't use guns.
"A nameless, terrible thing,"
A traveller who never gave his name.
"The most feared Being in all the cosmos."
The Time Lord Victorious.
Trapped in a box. A prisoner.
And he cried. For everything and everyone, he cried.