My dreams have morphed into something new, a story of less tragic origin but of a lost man, the last of his kind.
Taking place only a few days after my last accounted dream, I had learned that a certain animal of sorts—one I found suspicious, though I do not know why—was in London, and I was attempting to find it. Something about it had led me to a store, a place with mannequins all around, mannequins that were moving, walking around ominously as humans do.
They were walking towards a girl. She was young, not wearing the fancy garments of today—I highly believe that this is set in the future. But she was panicking. I knew I had to stop them, that I was needed to use my technology to stop some signal from reaching them. However, I ran in, grabbing her hand, and said "run."
She was beautiful, the girl. Yet she was just a fabrication, a girl to play a role in my dreams of madness.
We ran. She ran to her home, after I told her my name, as I took some technology I had put together, and threw it into the building, myself still in it. It exploded, but I somehow escaped. This seems to me to be something that happens quite often in these dreams. I never die. I rarely obtain injuries. It is curious…
Nothing of importance happened afterwards, as my dream skipped to the next day, following a signal on some technology I had to a flat—though I am not sure how I came by that word. I suppose my dreams supplied it for me. As I scanned the mailbox, the girl from the day before opened the door. Inside her home, she still had an arm from one of the mannequins, an arm which came to life.
Before this, however, I gained the first glimpse of myself, a bald man with large ears. I wore much leather. Thus far, I can tell that in my dreams, this Doctor is rarely afraid. Only on his home planet so far has he been truly terrified. He is calm. He is a hero, one that I would never want to be. He has gone through so much.
I saved the girl, Rose. But then I disappeared once more into my blue box, and my dreams faded once more.
The next scene from this dream occurred in a restaurant, with myself ultimately murdering a mannequin that took Rose's friend's place. He, in actuality, was closer than a friend, one who loved her, one who she loved. I took her to my blue box, the box that was much larger on the inside, something that awed her. We traveled across the city in only a moment, arriving near a large wheel in the middle of London.
We learned that the animal-of-sorts that was controlling the mannequins resided underneath this wheel, and after being attacked due to its belief that we were there to murder it, the liquid I possessed in order to do this if needed slipped, causing the animal to disappear. The Doctor did not feel much, if anything, towards it. He was not sorry. And for this I worry that this man, in my dreams, is me. He does not look like me or think like me, yet we are the same. It worries me. And, I suppose, that is why I write this journal. So that these dreams do not haunt me.
Afterwards, Rose decided to travel with me.
And this is where she becomes a constant in my dreams.