A/N: hello hello!
hope you're all well! thank you for choosing to continue reading this story!
This chapter was a beauty to write (at least, my brain was cooperative) and I'm so happy with the result!
Angst awaits! Hope you'll enjoy!
Who's in the shadows?
Who's ready to play?
Are we the hunters?
Or are we the prey?
There's no surrender
And there's no escape
Are we the hunters?
Or are we the prey?
This is a wild game of survival
- 'Game of Survival' by Ruelle
Clara pressed the STOP button as she got close to the bus stop. Looking out the window, she sighed upon seeing the dull sky filled with dense low clouds.
Not that she bothered feeling the rain on her face. Maybe some life would spring into her again.
.
The bus stopped. Clara flung the bag over her shoulder and carefully walked out of the bus onto the pavement.
.
She sighed. Home sweet home.
Alone.
Dull.
No life.
Nothing to work for.
She did had something to look forward to... To live for.
But that hope had been a lie.
The time lord lies.
.
The damp grass crunched under her boots as she walked to to the apartment just a stone's throw away. Clara made her way up to the 3rd floor and opened the apartment, shivering with the unexpected wind current that faced her, before closing the door.
The apartment was dark and dull, with barely any light entering through the windows due to the horrible weather. It was October after all.
She walked to the first room on her right, threw the bag onto the kitchen table and filled the electric kettle with water before boiling it.
Her feeble body shivered again with cold. Her apartment was rarely this breezy.
She came to her bedroom. The window was open, the light brown curtains fighting against the gusts. She ran to close it. But Clara stopped as soon as she did. She could have sworn that she had closed it before she left.
Or did she?
Maybe it was just her mind playing tricks. Not the first time.
Especially in such a state.
.
She went back to the kitchen to prepare a mug of sweet tea. Whilst waiting the kettle to boil, she went to the living room.
Clara looked outside the window. She had planned to take out the washing earlier. But the weather was too dull; surely it would rain in a few hours. Might as well use the dryer for once in God knows how long.
.
Her thoughts were disrupted by the sound of the kettle boiling, so the teacher went to finish preparing the tea.
She sighed, before sipping on the tea. Clara hadn't yet fully settled down in this new life. But it had become easier. And by easier meaning that she had entered a soothing routine. She took up a few hobbies, and her grandmother had gifted her a crochet set to spend the time.
But she was brought back to the days they spent together. All the times the Doctor had landed with the TARDIS in every single room of her home, the times they spent cuddled on the sofa or on her bed...
But it's ok. Those were good memories. She'd think to herself.
Before the frustration would creep in. Why did he push her away? Why... When she loved him?
Tears filled her eyes when she remembered te last conversation she had with the Doctor... a one-sided fight. She didn;t regret the things she said to him; it was the truth after all. She hoped upon all hopes that he was, right at that moment, regretting his decision and ciding on how he would come back to her.
.
She jumped when she heard a clank from the bathroom, almost spilling her tea.
Clara ran to the cutlery drawer and took out the bread knife.
She walked cautiously to the bedroom, trying to listen for any peculiar sounds other than the wind outside and her shallow breaths.
.
A mild headache was creeping, but she tried to ignore it.
Clara entered the bathroom, seeing the toothpaste tube on the floor.
Her heart hastened. She always stored the tube behind the mirror. It couldn't have possibly come out and fell on its own.
She wasn't dreaming.
Was she?
No no this was real.
Right?
Clara left the knife in the sink before taking the closest book next to her; the radiator manual stored in the cabinet under the sink.
.
She flipped it on random pages, reading the first few several words.
Yes... Yes... They made sense alright.
.
Clara panicked.
Something wasn't right. She felt it.
She wasn't alone.
Someone was playing with her.
And she was at a disadvantage.
.
She took the knife and made her way to the living room. She stopped as soon as she saw two yellow memo sheets stuck on the window she had looked out of a few minutes earlier.
They weren't there a few seconds ago.
That she was sure of.
.
Clara ran to the window clutching the knife tighter.
Hello Clara. The first one had with black bold handwritten letters.
The second one, a little lower down had similar writing.
Miss me?
.
She hissed when the girl felt her head was tightening more from the headache.
She wasn't going insane. She wasn't. This was real.
And it scared her. Because she was oblivious to what was happening to her.
Except for the person - or being- tormenting her.
It must be observing her.
Looking at her.
She could almost feel its gaze, analysing her.
Enjoying it, almost.
Gave her the chills.
.
Should she stay quite? It wasn't in her nature.
Confront it? Might catch her off guard.
It (or they... That's even worse) probably already knows that she knows.
They had trapped her in her own home.
With no help.
No Doctor.
No hope. Not unless she thought of a way to get out of this mess. Quickly.
.
She turned to face her living room, and quite possibly, the being responsible.
"Whoever you are, I'm not afraid of you!" She said, her voice as strong as humanly possible.
Nothing. No sound. Nothing peculiar around her.
.
Her back against the wall, Clara felt trapped against the invisible predator.
It was tormenting her, waiting for her to break.
That wasn't going to happen any time soon.
.
Or so she thought.
Her eyes started fluttering as she felt slightly sleepier. Her fingers slipped off the knife handle, falling with a muffled thud on the carpet.
She tried to stay awake, but it was too hard.
Let it take you, Clara. She heard a thought in her head. Don't fight it.
"No." She murmured. She had to stay awake.
You can't fight me. The voice in her head continued. Just relax.
Her knees felt weak, thus falling and hitting the back of her head to floor. But it didn't hurt. It was as if she had lost all touch from reality.
.
Could it have been her mind? After all that time starved from the person who kept her sane.
No, I'm not that easily broken. She thought to her self as her vision got hazier.
.
She could hear faint sounds next to her.
Dull thumps.
Footsteps.
She was right.
.
Clara was too weak to move and hide herself as all her energy was focused to not sleep. She could notice a dark human-like silhouette creeping in from the corner of her eye as she tried to fight the tiredness which washed over her. The figure crouched next to her head, their cold fingers brushing through Clara's hair.
Sleep. The thought commanded.
And Clara obeyed instantly.
Day ? without Clara Oswald
He'd lost count of how many days since he had last seen Clara. And he didn't even bother to ask the TARDIS.
The Doctor was starting to live again... It was very slow progress through. Most of the food he'd eat would not make him sick and he was able to concentrate enough to start reading again. He couldn't read more than two paragraphs, though, before Clara would start creeping into his mind yet again. He'd remember... the way his arms curled around her small body, the way she nuzzled perfectly against his physique, her perfume enveloping him...
His Clara; beautiful, strong... beaten up, tortured.
.
Then he's back to square one... Doing his utmost to concentrate on the task at hand lest he cries himself to sleep for the umpteenth time.
Recovery was a nervewrackingly slow process. But at least he was sure that his Clara wouldn't die tortured because of him. That was consolation enough.
He was once in his armchair on the upper deck, reading David Copperfield for the 1537th time. The book was slowly slipping from his hands. The world felt strange and he suddenly felt at peace. A pair of hands wrapped around his and removed the book. He opened his eyes. "Clara?" He said astonished. She looked so gentle as she placed the book on the floor. "How are you here?"
"You landed in my bedroom, stupid old man. It's Wednesday." She laughed. He smiled. That echoing laugh healed part of his soul. "I've missed you."
"How long have I been gone?"
"You... dropped me off yesterday." Her smile faded. "Doctor, are you alright? You seem a little off."
"No... It's been longer. It's been longer I'm sure. I have to keep you safe." He murmured, looking around, trying to ground himself.
"You know I don't ask you to keep me safe." She chuckled uneasily.
"I have to, Clara. I promised..." He panicked.
"You can't keep me safe, Doctor." She sighed, looking slightly annoyed. "Your dumb arse can never keep me safe. I'll die, and it will all be your fault."
"No... no Clara. Please."
"The lethal mistake was that you got me on your stupid TARDIS in the first place. Remember Clara Oswin Oswald? That was her death sentence. And you will be mine too."
"Clara, NO!"
He opened his eyes, hyperventilating and screaming. There was no Clara. The TARDIS was empty. The book was face down on the floor.
.
He sighed. It must have been a terrible nightmare.
The TARDIS hummed, bringing the Doctor's attention to the flashing screen.
"1 new message."
Was it Clara? Did she need his help?
He dashed out of his seat and down the stairs before making it in front of the monitor. He hesitated. It might have been Clara, it might be a distress signal from some planet.
.
The Doctor pressed the flashing button in front of him.
An all too familiar face popped up on the screen.
"Hello again, Doctor." The time lord's hearts dropped as the torturer's eyes bore into his.
A million thoughts whizzed through the Gallifreyan's head.
"I know you are estatic to see me! I bet you're dying to know why I have sent you this message. You know, I've missed you... as a torture subject. And i've also missed your friend... what was her name?"
The Doctor's fingers curled around the edge of the console. A thought pranced through his head. He should go there... to make him pay for how he tortured Clara. Now that she wasn't with him... he could do whatever he wanted and place himself in all dangers.
"Oh yes, Clara. I still think she's a very good subject, Doctor. Might I say, even better than you. But you make a mighty fine pair to torture together." The torturer sighed. "It's so sad she's not with you right now, I would love to talk to her... Again."
The time lord's eyes widened... how does he know that she isn't with him? His hearts stopped No... no he didn't...
"Your brain is doing an excellent job trying to find out why I've sent you this message." His smile widened. "See you soon, Doctor. Be sure to bring back up. I'm waiting for you."
A/N: Ooooooooooo (the Leader has returned!)
Hope you've enjoyed this chapter. Feedback is my motivation and is appreciated as always!
Will hopefully post a Christmas fic before releasing another chapter from the story!
Till then, wishing you all the best and again, thanks for reading!
Stay safe!