Glad everything is starting to fall into place! Hope you enjoy!
In The Windmills Of Her Mind
Chapter Eighteen
Keys that jingle in your pocket, words that jangle in your head, why did summer go so quickly? Was it something that you said?
Jacob lay in the grass watching as Rose walked away from him. The rain fell heavily against his skin, and just as Rose had, he saw his life flash before his eyes. And slowly, as the heavens wept upon him, his own tears fell from the corners of his eyes. His hands clenched as his past dreams rushed through him, followed by his past killings. Yet all he could hear in his mind, mixed with the screams of the dead was his mothers' words
'The rain is the tears of angels'. Finally, as their tears fell upon his skin he realized that he was right. He slowly stood and turned into the night, he walked into the setting sun as the moon burned upon his back, as the tears marked his skin, his own burned his face. Jacob walked into the night, haunted by the actions of a lost man in a world of madness; he walked into the night and never would be heard of again. The doctor who had so much potential and so many dreams was ruined by his own weakness – by his own humanity. So he lost himself in the night as the angels cried for him.
As the angels wept for Jacob, they were not alone in their tears. Walking through the darkness was a lost girl, she no longer cried and she no longer smiled – she couldn't remember how. But she dragged her dying, weak body through the wounds of the land as she searched for a lost soul. The angels wept for her as the rain fell heavily through the sky, darkness closed over the earth echoing the darkness that filled her soul – yet one ray of hope shone through. The moon's beams fell softly over the hillside, revealing what the darkness shrouded, it showed a doorway through a hill, it showed a blood streaked path, and it showed a blue box on top of the hill.
Rose crawled across the land towards the doorway, she fell onto her hands and knees, the pain of her body pushing her to the floor, yet she continued to crawl for his salvation. Soon her hands were upon the slick metal of the door, her fingers grasping and sliding as she tried to open the metal cage.
With her last ounce of strength she opened the door and fell into the burnt corridor, smoke stained the walls, soot covered the floor and a stench of death filled her nose. She slowly crawled through the ashes of life as she searched the cells for the one she needed.
She crawled through the ashes of the ones who had died, the ones who had lost and the ones who couldn't escape. She went past each cell where five skeletons hung, where bodies slowly decayed in the abandoned chamber. She saw where hell truly was and she saw those too weak to survive.
Then she saw her room. She saw the walls blackened by fire, the floors stained with death and she saw the single mark of whiteness – her hand print pressed perfectly into the wall. She dragged her own lifeless body to the wall and raised her hand; she lifted her pale shaking hand to the place where her skin had fallen. Her bandaged hand fell into the mark, her skin still pressed to the wall, shrivelling where it had detached from its frail form. Tracing the mark of herself on the wall of death she felt a strength pulse through her, she felt a last surge of hope forcing her to prevail. She tore her hand from the wall – just as she had before, only this time she had no skin to lose. Then she turned to the door, she could feel her blood pulsing within her stomach as wounds wept for her, as stitches tore out and organs bled. But she didn't care, she turned to the door and moved away, she knew where she had to go and what she had to do – and so she prevailed.
She crawled along the corridor until she could remember the burning of the smoke within her lungs; she coughed emptily until she saw a closed door. The metal was badly scorched and the frame was bent with heat, yet the door still remained closed. Rose knelt beside it, gently panting as her collapsing lungs heaved for air, and she raised her hand once more. Her fingers splayed against the heavy metal of the door and she winced as her ribs reacted to the movement.
She leant all her weight against the door, pushing with all the force of her life, and finally, after moments of tedious silence, the door began to creek in resistance to her movement. She winced as she pushed the door on its swollen joints, its whined in protest again but Rose was relentless. She pushed and heaved until the metal moved beneath her, the door swung with such a force that she was flung into the room.
Her face was pressed to the cool stone floor again, she heaved a breath in as she realised this room was free of soot and smoke. She braced her hands against the cool floor and tried to push herself up. The arms throbbed in protest but she continued, she pushed herself over and over again until her head raised up. She squinted into the darkness that cloaked the room until her eyes saw the wall before her, she blinked once more and realised what she saw. It was her Doctor.