A/N: Self inserts are a curious thing. At first I didn't like them, but the more I read the more value I found.
Writing is a form of therapy - and I mean it. It's even proven. So, instead of doing what my therapist tells me and write a journal... I'm going to dump all my emotional baggage and stupid ideas into this story and make it your problem! ;D
I think that sounds fair... (Yes, I'm being sarcastic. I love you all x3 )
So, here you get the slowest of slow burns with a chapter count that is truly insane by now. But they aren't that long each.
Have fun! °v°/)
.
Trigger warnings: Many dark topics in here, such as morally twisted actions, suicide or minor violence.
Most of the story should fit into the T rating and is not very descriptive, but if there are more explicit chapters, I'll warn you beforehand. (Chapters with sexual content will be marked with an -M )
.
If ever a story was told, in too many words and too many twists, then it might be my own.
Have you ever known the weight of nothing? It lies heavily on your chest, a ghastly beast, a demon from your dreams that steals your breath.
Have you ever felt the pain of being utterly alone? There might be billions of people on this planet, but you're not one of them, even though you are. There is no place to call home, there is no one to return to. Not a single soul recalls your name and you left nothing to be remembered by.
Alone. Nothing.
Combine those two and you might come to the conclusion that, in theory, or maybe even in reality…
You never existed.
But the universe is a curious place and things that might won't and things that should aren't. Our history is filled with paradoxes and impossibilities, written not by those who succeeded but those who were able to fit the scattered pieces into a coherent story.
I am a collector, a traveller. And what I collect are stories.
It wasn't always like that. A long time ago, in a past that is now distant to me, I was there, at the conjunction of not existing and being too real at once. And it was then that I myself fell into a story.
It's a story about a blue box and man within who saved our planet many times and more. He is a story himself, a dream in your mind when you're only half awake, a legend told throughout time and places, ever changing, ever the same. He is the hope you carry in your heart that somewhere reality might offer more than what it presents to you. The hope that even the worst of catastrophes can be overcome.
And he is the darkness that follows in the shadow of hope. Because he is no god and has to battle his own demons constantly. One of those he took on himself, stored it away inside of his blue box. And again there was hope. Others he found or they found him.
And one of those is myself.
Don't get me wrong, I'm just a simple human. I love to play with words and weave them into stuff that sounds nice. Loneliness can teach you that. When your whole world consists of nothing but words, written and printed and scattered.
But enough of the dramatic intro. You want to know who the heck I am, don't you?
Well, people often think I'm in my mid twenties, but by the time this story started I counted roughly thirty years already. Some think of me even younger. It's a little annoying when you have to show your ID just to get a drink, but I shouldn't complain. Aside from that I'm of average weight, there is a little more of it than I want to have, but I'm fine with it.
What really stands out might be my size. I'm only 5'2 if you go by foot and 1,57 if you go by metres. There is a running gag I have with myself, that I call myself a dwarf, because whenever I am able to pick a race in a game I always choose the dwarves. They are cool, they are bold and also funny. So, for my own amusement I make fun of my size and I will die on that hill.
People also often think I'm a boy. My hair is short, shaved at the sides and tousled on the top. I think it's called pixie cut. Oh right, they are a dark brown, almost the same colour my eyes have, although those can look a bit green in the right light conditions. And they are bad, like, really bad. I can't see shit without my glasses.
That's it. That's me. I'm not that interesting anyway. You're probably more curious about the adventures that lead to me writing this down.
It all started with the Doctor. A man I ran into once some years ago. It was a brief encounter, but I remember it well.
Tousled brown hair, chocolate brown eyes and a long brown coat. That was all I could make out, as he stared down at me, blinking perplexed.
"What is it, Doctor?" a woman asked from behind. She had dark skin and long hair.
Behind her followed a tall guy in a military style coat. (Wish I had bumped into him instead.)
"Nothing, nothing," the man, who had been called Doctor answered, carefully grabbing my shoulders to guide me a step to the side. "Sorry for bumping into you. We're on a hurry."
"Uh... err... it's okay," I stammered. "Nothing happened. I mean... I bumped into you... but... uh. Sorry?"
"Hello there," the tall one greeted with a toothy smile that made me blush a little.
"Jack!" the Doctor called. "Not now!"
"I only said hello!"
"Hello," I sheepishly replied back, lowering my head a little, unsure what else to say. The roguish wink Jack gave me made me smile, though.
"Anyway, we have to get away as fast as possible, if you'll excuse us." The Doctor tapped his forehead and strode away, followed by his strange companions.
They all seemed in quite the rush, and I wondered if they might be late for an appointment, a party or whatever people occupied themselves in groups. I... I'm not much of a social person myself. Too awkward and weird... People usually don't like that, so they avoid me, mostly.
Later I saw them all on TV, found out they were being chased by the police and deemed extremely dangerous. Back then I was still young and couldn't quite grasp it, but later I learned about the infamous election and the US president who got shot by a new alien race. One that was never seen again, afterwards. What was even stranger, though, was that I was convinced they had put Harold Saxon in jail for murder.
Suddenly seeing him in person, in the middle of an ordinary park, was probably the last thing I would have expected.
He didn't look exactly the same, though. On telly he had been clean shaven, now he had grown a thin goatee. And instead of a black suit, he now wore a blood red dress-shirt with a black waist coat and black dress pants and shoes.
But no doubt, it was him, marching down a dirt path in the park of my hometown, his look so dark it made me shiver. He was close enough to me to hear his words.
"Keeping me as his pet, my ass," he grumbled to himself. "I'll show him. He'll regret it... And what are you staring at?"
I winced in surprise, my eyes widening as I realised he had addressed me. Well, of course he had. I was staring at him like some idiot. My mouth opened and closed and all I could do was to mutter a barely audible 'sorry'.
"You want a real reason to feel sorry, kid?" he asked and a grin spread on his lips that could only be described as evil. "I could make you go home and murder your parents, how about that?"
I blinked perplexed at him. Once, twice. Oh right, he mistook me for younger. "I... don't live with them anymore."
"Pah, I don't care." He rushed over to me, hands in his pockets, towering above me, although slightly bent down towards my face. His eyes had a fascinating warm hazel colour, but we're, in stark contrast, so cold and angry at the same time. And old. "You'll make a good toy. I'll use you to get revenge on the Doctor."
I remembered the short strange encounter from years ago. Saxin had been the one to officially declare them a threat. "That guy in the long brown coat?" I asked, wondering if he meant the same man. "I ran into someone like that, long ago... right before you killed... uh... oops." I probably shouldn't have let slip that I knew who he was.
In the same moment my phone, that I had in my hands the whole time, vibrated shortly and I peeked down at it. Second mistake. Never take your eyes off a villain. Even if your favourite Pokémon is just spawning on your screen.
Saxon ripped the phone out of my hands and glared at it for a few seconds, then back at me, and I swallowed, but smiled shyly.
"Don't break it. Can't afford a new one."
"Breaking that thing will be your least problem." He chuckled darkly and let my device vanish into his pockets.
"Hey! I need it!"
"And what," he bent down to my eye level, his gaze boring into mine, "are you willing to do to get it back?"
Once more I swallowed, feeling my pulse race. That phone was the only thing connecting me to people in the real world, instead of only having internet friends from who knows where on the planet. Such a silly thing as a game, enabling my socially awkward self to be tolerated by other human beings.
"I... don't know. I'm not really good at anything, I'm not strong or fast or... whatever." I turned my head away, feeling unfittingly embarrassed in the face of this lunatic, muttering, "I'm probably as useless to you as to everyone else, sorry."
There was a long pause in which Saxon straightened a little, but not enough to lose his threatening aura. My eyes darted back to his face, and although I usually avoid eye contact like the pest, I couldn't help but seek his gaze once again. Something about those eyes fascinated me, as if there was something hidden within them, something that exceeded a human's capacity of understanding.
"Sorry..." he repeated my last word with disbelief in his voice, but then grinned. "Want to do something nasty so badly?"
"Wha'? N... no! No, I don't!" I protested, my voice dying down quickly, my eyes seeking the ground again.
"Look up." His voice was now low and commanding, so I automatically obeyed. "In exactly two hours you'll pick a person and you will kill them," Saxon demanded while pushing a small gun into my hands.
An indescribable tingling moved through my head, rested at my crown and almost gave me a headache. I pinched my eyes shut, trying to get rid of it, while his words still rang in my mind. This was insane! Why would I do that? Why was he so sure I would? Why did he behave as if nothing could happen to him, no matter what he did - or made people do.
Then again... he had murdered the president and was, obviously, still a free man.
"Could you?" I asked quietly. "Just kill someone and get away with it?"
He laughed out loud, taking a step back, before he observed me further. "Doesn't work on you, eh? What a pity. But sure, I could."
My hands clutched the small gun to my chest, tears welled up in my eyes as I glanced back at him.
"Don't even try to shoot me," he snickered. "I'd be too fast. Before you can even-"
"No... I won't. But... but..." My hands started shaking at the mere fact that I even considered the act. However, getting away with it, having no consequences to fear and two people I loved to save, if only from their own weakness. "Any person?" I asked.
"Whomever you choose. But since my hypnotism doesn't work on you..."
"And you can assure no one will know I did it?" I interrupted, although I wondered what he was talking about.
Saxon stilled and glared at me for a small eternity. Slowly the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, until there was a wide, toothless smile plastered on his face. He was clearly enjoying this moment.
"Oh, there will be one person, whom I'll have to tell." He held a finger over my lips to silence my unspoken protest. "But he won't be interested in following you. It's just the game we play, me and the Doctor. This sanctimonious bastard."
"I... I don't want to spend the rest of my life in jail. There is just..."
"And I don't care for your boring reasons." He waved my words away, grabbed my collar and drew me in front of his face. "I will drench your hands in blood and watch the horror on his face with delight. Then I'll steal his TARDIS, and then he can stay with you apes on this dumpster of a planet and rot."
There it was again. Something flashing behind his eyes, ancient and raw and... sad. And there I was, never able to resist a mystery, not caring at all what it might do to me. And there I also had gotten this one opportunity I had thought about so many times already.
So I simply nodded and he finally let go of my clothes and strode away.
"Come."