Lives of The Doctor

Once upon a time, everywhere in the universe, all over time itself, there was a man. A man who could splinter a planet with the raise of an eyebrow. A man who could raise armies with one word. A man who would do whatever it cost just to be kind.

"Yowzah!" He shouted. Glaring around his empty TARDIS console room. He awaited the response from his vacant companion, alas there was silence. The lone traveller was not used to being companionless quite yet. His attention then shifted to the TARDIS navigation panel, where he entered some details. He then trotted around the console, rubbing his finger along the edge of the impressive Gallifreyan steel. He then pulled a cloth, out of what some would call thin air — or perhaps he had invisible pockets? He wiped down the console, cleaning every button in sight before looking over at the empty console room once more. He stood emotionless for a moment and placed the cloth in one of his jacket pockets. He straightened his purple jacket and arranged his bow tie. The gentle touch of his bow tie almost reminded him of something - of who he was. He smiled to himself and dashed around the console like a ballet dancer, flicking a switch with every step. With one switch, that familiar TARDIS dematerialisation sound began. And the TARDIS landed.

Outside those doors was an entirely different world. You never knew what you would get. It could be the future, past, an alien planet or a spaceship. But as usual, it was London, one of The Doctor's favourites, but 1889.

In a small estate in the elite part of London, was a mansion belonging to a lord.

Lord Sandworth sat in his luxurious armchair facing the fireplace in his lounge. He had guards at each door and servants scurrying around. He was dressed in a grey waistcoat, grey trousers and a half-buttoned-up white shirt, stained with whiskey and wine.

"Here" Lord Sandworth called as he took the last sip of his wine.

A young female maid stepped forward to assist him.

"What was your name?" He asked, refusing to look her in the eyes.

"Elizabeth Smith, my lord" she kept her head low.

He looked up at her and their eyes met. There was an uncomfortable silence for what felt like an eternity.

"Pour me some more," he said, as he held up his wine glass.

Elizabeth wore a long black and white Victorian dress, and her brunette curls were concealed by her pioneer bonnet. She had been serving Lord Sandworth at this estate for some weeks now, after being recommended to him by one of his fellow Lord friends. Elizabeth was happy to take up the new job. In the previous job she had, she served Lord Richards and his wife. Lord Richards was a disgusting, misogynistic, vile man. He stank of cigarettes and sweat. And he would always make comments which would make her cease up. The very smell of cigarettes now reminds her of him. Lord Sandworth is different though. Elizabeth thought he's a bit odd, and he drank a little too much. But he was nice. Just very, very forgetful. He would ask her for her name multiple times a day.

She would work in the mansion all day and then travel home every night. She had the option to stay overnight for the days she worked. But Elizabeth insisted she wanted to go home. She wouldn't finish work until 10 or 11 o'clock at night. As she finished her day of work, she'd say goodbye to Susie & Anne, two fellow servants, and wish a goodnight to Henry, the young guard that stood by the estate gates.

London was at its peak in the Victorian era. The most British of values, the empire was at large, and the city was thriving, for some. Carriages barged through the streets of London, and the rich strolled through the capital, casting a shadow over the poor. Elizabeth was different though, being a woman in her early twenties she walked alone that night. She walked down a long street road lit entirely by flickering lampposts. This road was quiet, but the city in the distance roared with the industrial expansion of London. The road had several alleyways coming off of it, and all were dimly lit. Elizabeth kept her eye out to ensure she was safe, as she knew the streets were dangerous with the likes of Jack the Ripper ravaging through the city just months ago. But as always her good heart overshadowed her thoughts. She stopped by a homeless man begging on the street.

"Please madam" the man gently spoke, as he held out his hand for some money.

She checked her purse to see if she could spare anything for the man.

"Wait here," she said, before walking further down the road where she approached two men. Both were standing ominously against a lamppost as they smoked their cigars wearing prim and proper Victorian suits.

"I don't suppose either of you could spare me a shilling? I'd be ever so grateful" she asked.

The men stared at her like lions stalking their prey "What's in it for us darling" one asked as he took a step forward.

Elizabeth felt threatened. She tensed up and was mere moments away from reaching into her reticule handbag to retrieve her small switchblade.

"He's joking," the other man remarked. She subtly moved her hand away from her bag.

"Of course, you can have a shilling, anything for a pretty lady like yourself" they chuckled to each other.

She took the money and turned abruptly before the men could harass her any further. On her brief walk back, she reflected and grew frustrated with the constant harassment she endured. She felt her treatment by everyone she had crossed in her life was unjustified. She wanted to escape. Most importantly she wanted to leave London. To finally be set free. What's the point? She thought. She's heard life in America is far better. She thought maybe that's where she belongs.

Elizabeth snapped back into reality when she realised she had walked past the homeless man. She turned back in a hurry, but he was no longer sitting at that spot. She looked around the road, but he was nowhere. Before giving up hope, she thought maybe he had walked up the small alleyway halfway down the road. It was worth trying, she thought. As she approached the alleyway, the hairs on the back of her neck began to raise and the lightbulbs on each lamppost flickered in a spasm. Could this be a warning? Or is this superstitious nonsense, she thought? Elizabeth reached the alleyway, and now all she had to do was turn a corner. But she froze. What could possibly be making her feel this way? As she stood there in silence, a gentle humming noise began, it came from the alleyway. She grew paranoid. Just as she was about to take a step back from the entrance to the alleyway, a loud noise was heard from behind, a gust of wind blew the leaves around her in a frenzy. She turned around and stood in disbelief. To her, it was a police box fading into existence. But to those that knew better, It was the TARDIS materialising before her eyes. She didn't know what to do, so she stood there and waited, inhaling deeply as an attempt to remain calm. Once the TARDIS had fully materialised she placed her hand on one of the doors, gently feeling this extraordinary— thing. She heard The Doctors footsteps approach the doors, and in a moment she fled down the alleyway, completely unconcerned as to why she was scared in the first place.

The TARDIS doors slammed open. The Doctor stepped out confidently and looked up at the sky.

"Ahh brilliant! London 1921..." he then spun his head around in the other direction "or maybe 1889".

He took a few steps and looked down the alleyway, he stared down it with conviction and his hands tucked tightly into his pockets. He walked down the alleyway and followed the humming noise as it grew louder.

Elizabeth was not much further down the alleyway, but she was just out of The Doctors sight. She kept close to the wall, reaching out to ensure she did not fall over in the dark.

"Help me" a child's voice was heard faintly.

Elizabeth gradually picked up her pace and then saw a blue flickering light in the distance. As she neared it, the details became clearer. It was some magical orb or portal. Something out of this world for definite, she was sure of that.

"Elizabeth! Get back here" a woman's voice called from the portal.

That sent chills down her spine. That voice was her mother's. She took a few disorientating steps back. And then she heard another voice.

"Come on!" A child calls.

Oh my god. She realised — that was her voice, as a child. Suddenly, two hands grasped Elizabeth's shoulders, pulling her back away from the portal. As this happens, the portal flickers and closes. Seemingly disappearing into thin air.

"It's ok, you're ok — I've got you," The Doctor says as he holds her back. She spins around.

"W- What was that thing?"

He released his grip, in an attempt to not alarm her. He walked past her and crouched down so he could scan his sonic screwdriver around the location where the portal was, he then looked at its readings.

"A piece of time," he said quietly.

"How's that possible? You- you can't have a piece of time... I heard my mum's voice. I heard my voice!"

He smirked and responded "All time is, is moments. And say you were to surgically remove those moments and rearrange them. Or perhaps, place them on top of one another. Or - even more exciting- open a doorway or a preview to them. Like a cinema for your life!"

"A what?" She was baffled by The Doctors explanation.

"You know when you go to a zoo and watch the animals from behind the glass? Well, what if you could go through time, and watch your life behind the safety of the glass" he scanned around the area again, his sonic let out a bleep - he looked at the readings once more.

"Oh, but what if it's more exciting than that? I've never seen a doorway like this one. Someone's been meddling with time." He stood back up and walked past Elizabeth again.

"And where are you going?" She asked.

He stopped. "Well. The portals gone. I'll have to set up a temporal locator if another one pops up anywhere. In the meantime, there's no point waiting around"

"So I'm expected to just forget about hearing my dead mother and my childhood self call for me?"

"Uhm... yes" he continued walking.

"And who are you?" She asked.

"I'm the Doctor"

"Doctor Who?"

***

Lord Sandworth sat slumped on his armchair, ahead of him was a floating holographic display of The Doctor and Elizabeth interacting in the alleyway.

"It's all going to plan, sir," Lord Sandworth says.

A knock on the door is heard.

"Come in" Lord Sandworth calls.

One of his servants, Anne, entered holding a tray with food. The door shut behind her, removing most light from the room. The only light sources were the fireplace and the blue light which the hologram subtly emitted.

She froze. Her eyes raced around the room. What? How? She thought as she observed the floating hologram.

"Oh don't be afraid... S..?" He paused.

"A- Anne, sir" she brokenly responded.

"Come forward" he demanded.

She cautiously approached his armchair with her eyes fixated on the hologram.

"Impressive, isn't it?"

"W- What is it?" Anne enquired.

"A gift. A gift from our masters"

She took a step forward and reached out her fingertip to touch the hologram. It buzzed with her touch. She moved her hand back and looked at Lord Sandworth.

"Now, Anne" he smiled "this is where you come in."

She took a step back. And her concerns grew. The door locked. The hologram dimmed. Lord Sandworth stood up from his armchair.

"What are you doing" she jumps back towards the window.

"I just need you, to be very, very still," he said.

A loud metal clamping noise was heard in the corner of the room. From out of the shadows a figure of a man appeared. She panics. Pressed up against the locked window, she attempted to open it. The figure stepped out of the shadows.

STOMP... STOMP...

"This, Anne, this is where you'll need to do everything I ask. Ok?" He said as he took a step back.

The figure fully emerged from the shadows, now lit by the flickering fireplace. It was a man. A man made of metal and cloth. No skin was visible. He wore black fabric gloves and silver cloth was wrapped around his back and neck. A metal chest plate lit up with wires and buttons in a glass casing. His legs were encased entirely in metal. And his feet were trapped by big metal boots. A silver mask encased his head and two bronze handles met on the top of his head. This was no longer a man. It was an experiment.

The experiment stepped forward. It reached out its arm, draped in fabric.

"Please! No... no! Please!" She begged.

There was no escape. All doors were secured. Guards ignored every call for help. The whole estate sat ignorant to Anne's piercing screams that night...