Doctor Who
The Doctor, or David as not too many people know him, glanced out the window of the airplane taking him back to the United States. It hadn't been long since he lost Donna, Amy, and Clara back in the United Kingdom, making his heart lead him back to the land of the free. So there he was, running away from his emotions again, as Clara had told him many times before. He tried not to think of them, but something would always come up that would make him remember his most loyal companions. The clouds provided a safe haven, and the Doctor found himself hoping that he could maybe stay up there forever.
But he was smarter than that, and he knew that the plane would soon land. And he knew that he would meet some other poor girl that would become his friend, companion, and he would lose her too.
There was a slight change in the atmosphere that snapped the Doctor out of his train of thoughts as a young flight attendant raced by him and back into the cockpit. When she came back out, her expression was fear-stricken, blue eyes wide with horror, as she braced herself against the door. She made eye contact with the Doctor, and they stayed that way for the longest time, until she nodded at him, gesturing towards the back of the plane.
She immediately regained her composure, and smiled, but the Doctor could see through her facade. She made her way to the back of the plane, the Doctor following suit.
"Hi, um, I don't know how to say this...but I trust you. It's something about your eyes that makes me want to tell you that something strange is happening and I–"
The speaker came on, interrupting the young attendant, "good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, we will be landing in five minutes. I repeat, we will be landing in five minutes, thank you for riding with United Kingdom Airlines."
"You were saying," the Doctor reads the girl's name tag, "Mary?"
"Yes, um, earlier today...I um, I don't know," she begins to roll up the sleeve on her right arm, but pauses, "don't scream okay?"
The Doctor nods and takes Mary's hand in his, rolling up the sleeve for her.
What he sees does shock him, but he does his best not to exclaim, no need to attract the attention of the passengers and worry them. There appears to be a bite mark on Mary's wrist, and lining it, are her veins, but the colors are tinted black, instead of purple or red. the veins reach all the way up to her elbow, just before her forearm begins.
"What happened?" The Doctor asks, drawing Mary's arm closer to his face, so that he could see the infection better.
"This morning, I was tending to my grandmother, she's ill. And she was asleep, so I was changing her blankets for fresh ones. Then, out of nowhere, she up and bit my wrist! I had to call my father into the room so that he could see her and that's when I left for work. I feel sick now, and it really hurts."
The Doctor nodded and folded Mary's sleeve back down onto her wrist, "as soon as this plane lands, you need to get yourself to a hospital. It looks like the wound is heavily infected, and you really need to get it looked at. But this is a strange event."
Mary nodded, and gave her thanks to the Doctor, turning on her heel and walking back down to the cockpit, but stopping in her tracks and walking back to him, "I didn't catch your name."
"I go by the Doctor," he says with a small, hurt smile, but she doesn't catch on.
"Thank you, Doctor," she says with a bright smile.
The Doctor heads back to his seat, and finally sees the green areas of what is Pennsylvania, he doesn't know why he chose that one out of all fifty states, but he craved something different than the cheery atmosphere of the U.K. There's slight turbulence right before they land, and the Doctor frowns, the cockpit is eerily quiet, and the captain hasn't announced that they've landed.
The landing is rough, so rough that the inhalers come out, landing in front of the passengers. Several scream, or jump slightly in their chairs in surprise, and the plane comes to a sudden halt, skidding until it stops.
"What's going on?" A woman across the aisle calls out, there is panic in her face.
"Calm down, calm down," the Doctor says, "there's no point in panicking, I will go check with the Captain."
The Doctor gets up and makes his way down the aisle and into the cockpit. There's strange noises further down the room, like inhumanly grunting, and the slush of liquid. "Hello? Captain? Mary?" The Doctor calls out, but there is no response, just the same noises as before.
As the Doctor makes his way further down the hallway, he seems a gleam of red, sticky liquid that stops him dead in his tracks. "Mary?" He calls out again, this time, he is greeted by a small, and weak, "help," by a male voice. And that's when he sees Mary, on top of the pilot, chewing on his leg. His stomach is torn open, leaving his insides like ribbons, some even, lying on the floor around him.
"...run..." he wheezes before he lays his head down, brown eyes staring up at the ceiling, seeing absolutely nothing.
The Doctor backs out of the room, before Mary, or whatever is left of her, notices him. But as he's backing out, he trips over a can of soda, grabbing her attention. She screams at him, and charges towards him. The Doctor opens and shuts the door behind him, the panic stricken passengers can see Mary through the small round window, pounding on the door.
"Oh my god," one of them mutters.
"You all need to evacuate, now!" The Doctor orders.
No one questions him, and they all hurriedly make their way towards the nearest exit. But the Doctor can feel his feet slipping out from beneath him, and Mary pounding on the door still. He can't hold the door much longer, and there are many passengers still leaving the plane.
"Hurry–" but he can't get any other words out because as the last few are leaving the plane, Mary succeeds in pushing the door open.
The Doctor stumbles and falls back into a seat, and Mary runs over to a passenger, the woman that had spoken up earlier and proceeds to take a bite out of her shoulder.
The Doctor grimaces as she screams and runs over to the woman, tearing Mary off of her and onto the floor. But before she can get back up, he steps on her head, over and over and over again, until the once beautiful, blond haired, blue eyed girl, is nothing but a mess of sticky, red blood and pulp on the plane floor.
The Doctor trails his sights back to the woman, she is resting in one of the seats, hand on her shoulder and wailing profusely.
"Hey, it's ok, come with me, we'll get you to a Doctor," he picks her up and wraps her arm, the one that isn't hurt, around his shoulder, leading her out the door.
Small, week, groans can be heard from the cockpit, but the Doctor knows he should keep moving, who knows how fast those things can move.
But outside is more chaos than inside the plane. Already, there are fires everywhere, and more and more of those monsters, running around after the others.
The Doctor recognizes many of the faces he'd seen in the plane, and melancholy strikes his sad heart. He leads the woman as far away from the airport as he can, laying her down in a small warehouse, "stay here," he says, touching her forehead, she has a high fever and he doesn't know how long she has, "I will go get help."
With that he runs out of the warehouse, running into two boys, both carrying guns, on his way out.
"Sorry," the taller one mutters.
"Come on, Sammy," the other says,and with that, they run back, towards the airport.
Without them knowing, the Doctor follows, "hey, take me with you," he says.
The shorter one turns around and faces the Doctor, catching him with his unnaturally green eyes, "why should we?"
"Dean..." the taller one says with a sigh.
"No, Sam. He could be one of them," the one called Dean says pushing the taller one, Sam, behind him.
"I'm not," the Doctor says, wiping sweat from his forehead, "I haven't been bitten or anything," he pleads.
Dean pauses, thinking it over, but finally gives in and walks away, towards a midnight-blue car, parked a few feet away.
"Just follow us," Sam says, running after Dean.
