The Last Great Time War

-For the Historical Competition- The Doctor is forced to fight in The Last Great Time War, with his brother and all the Time Lords, against the hate-driven Daleks who have only one goal.To kill. He becomes a hero, but then an old 'friend' arrives who changes his life forever. Coping with his punishment from a deadly mistake, will the Doctor make the right choice? -my version of who The Doctor who John Hurt plays, and Doctor Who's history -
Historical Fantasy :P


7. Day 7,000.

This morning I woke up and the burning sun rose again reflecting fire of the silver trees causing the forest to look like they were alight. I was still in the szpital, The ‘Healers’ had practically trapped in there and I was confined and locked away whilst the Great Time War carried on. They couldn’t hide what was happening though. Every day explosions rattled the rooms, haunting cries of EXTERMINATE made my hearts become hysterical and the stench of smoke and ashes always found a way in. Fire licked the sides of Mount Lung and the city Olyesti was ripped to shreds as I watched. It seemed The Peace we more powerful then they let on, and what they had showed us was only 10% of what they could really do. They weren’t here to help us at all.

What really kept me sane, but surprised me the most was that my brother visited me regularly even though he believed me to just be an old man. We had the exact same eyes, our fathers, and I thought maybe deep down he understood who I really was. He was the first person that let me see myself in the mirror; he said he thought I should get to see what I really looked like. The reflection of what I saw was so different to my normal appearance that I was sat shocked for a long time.

My hair was streaked grey and brushed back in some kind of ash quiff, my eyes were still burning green but were weary and cushioned by many puffy bags, and I had more wrinkles than The Master, and two deep permanent lines across my forehead. The only things I liked about my appearance were my smile which was humble, and my eyes which beamed too if I could only have turned the corners of my mouth up. My ash grey beard lined my face and had grown quickly, with no intention to be tamed.

It brought blood tears to my eye when I saw how much I had changed; the Master had fast-forwarded my ninth body until the point of old age. I supposed if The Fighter had not stopped him then I would be dead, so I had to be thankful for that. What made it worse was that I wasn’t allowed to get up in my Tardis and fight again, or create new weapons to help win the War. And the War did need help.

The Fighter visited me again on day 7000. He sunk into a chair next to my bed, exhausted and furious. He shook with anger and his voice trembled turbulently when he told me what was wrong. I could never forget what he said. “They’re going to turn them. The Darleks are going to turn the Peace. I-I-I heard two Darleks communicating just outside The Death Zone, ironically, - they didn’t see me- and they were saying - wait I recorded it. Listen.”

Quickly he got out a sonic device, pressed a small purple button, and the cold voice of a Darlek ruptured the room, “The Supreme Darlek thinks we have all the knowledge and power we can get from The Peace, and has decided they are no use to us anymore in the form that they are. But because of their vast numbers, they will be useful if they are Darleks. Darlek Sec has made it possible to convert them into Darleks by simply removing their brains and attaching them to our shells. We have been told that in two days we must capture all of The Peace and take them back to Skaro to convert them. Once we do this we can win the War because our numbers will outnumber the Time Lords easily.”

The recording finished and silence came. After a while, The Fighter spoke again, his voice still shaking but with not only anger but sorrow and fear. “I don’t know what I am going to do. I can’t see any way out. Even Father, the greatest leader of time doesn’t have a plan. We don’t stand a chance…”

I didn’t know what to say. How could I comfort my brother, when I was just as livid and terrified as him?  It meant that our lives really would be over in a matter of days, and The Peace would end up worse than dead. My friend, or once friend, would end up as a Darlek. No matter what, I couldn’t let that happen. I wasn’t going to tell my brother this; he would probably get me locked up. So I had to sit there and wait while he sobbed, and watching my brother cry is like watching Dobby die, it’s agonizing. It was even more excruciating to know I couldn’t help him.

When The Healer came The Fighter left; frantically wiping his tears away embarrassed of crying. He never cried. I tried to remain calm, to smile, to seem like I was just going to be the stereotypical old Time Lord and read a book or smoke a Sun Pipe.

But as soon as The Healer left, I leapt into action which is pretty hard considering I was quite a slow person and weak too. Randomly I hectically threw things into a small leather satchel, thinking that I might be a long time doing what I was about to do. I put on a black beanie, and a snood which covered my face. I had to be as camouflaged as possible. Snapping my fingers once more, my sonic screwdriver flew into my fingers and I unlocked the window. I was only on the second floor so made a rope out of my straw bed sheet easily and climbed out of the window, landing on the scarlet grass with a light thud.

And then I ran. I knew where I was and where I needed to go, so ran as fast as my legs could carry. But I had overestimated my strength. Lungs ablaze and feet burning I had to stop before I collapsed and caused a scene just outside the capital. I had stopped right in front of weapon supplier which had a few tired looking men in; talking desperately about what was going to happen to them soon. A small power Tardis the size of a human bike, was sleeping outside of the shop, just screaming my name. And I wasn’t going to ignore it.

 It sped to life as soon as I jumped on it and with a slight murmur and a low hum, I was off, riding straight towards the foot of Mount Cadon where I had been told The Peace’s headquarters were; well it was big enough to contain them all. I stopped for just a few minutes in the weaponry tower, where I came out with my favourite creation, the Tine. Strapping it under the power Tardis, I sped off again, dodging fire balls, bullets and electric rays. It did feel really good. It was nice to be doing something again.

But my happiness was short lived arriving at Mount Cadon, I really didn’t feel that great about what was about to be done. But I knew it was the only way, in the name of peace and sanity. The Peace would be better off this way.

They were all outside, millions of them with deep blue skin and waxy black suits. Practising a march of some sort for a finale or something like that probably. It made me sick thinking about what would happen to them if I didn’t do something. Either way this was the right thing to do.

If I did it quickly, it wouldn’t hurt as much. Grabbing my Tine without registering the consequences, I walked forwards so that The Peace were below me. They couldn’t see me, so they wouldn’t know what had hit them. Do it now! Do it now! Do it now! I told myself.

Somebody was calling me, and I heard footsteps coming towards me, up the hill. The man had fiery hair and was screaming something at me, but I couldn’t hear him, and I only saw him.

I pressed the button. A deafening screech was emitted and I was blown backwards a hundred feet in the air, winded completely. But I was alive, and that couldn’t be said for The Peace. A large burning screaming golden ring of fire had enveloped my blue foes and friends, and ambushed them into a world of fire. Flames curled their way through each any every Peace, enkindling them and creating a deathly magnificent glow.

One massive implosion and then silence and black ash smoke. I could see nothing but death. A whole species existent, what had I done? Regret spilled through me, and a huge tsunami of guilt. I had committed genocide.

I heard crying and I low moan; it shook me back to my senses. I ran towards it hoping it was some survivor of The Peace. But it wasn’t. It was the man with fiery hair who had been screaming something to me. It was my brother. The Fighter was lying on the ground with the most horrific blistering burns I had ever seen in my life, bleeding and bubbling. I had done this to him, but I had no idea. I hated myself!

Within seconds I was next to him, and within seconds I knew it was too late. He was dying, the burns was too bad. Tears bled from his eyes and stained his crusted cheeks. He was trying to say something. He croaked. “D-D-Doctor, I know it’s you.” He took a deep breath in and I thought that was it, his final words of recognition said and done. But it wasn’t.

 “The Peace were forced into siding with the Darleks. Verrator would have killed them if they didn’t. I’m so so sorry about what the Master did to you. You have to end this war. Take the Great key and-”, then he started coughing, heavy horrible coughing. Watching my own brother choke to death is worse than watching the Peace die, reading that Fred was killed, and understanding that Callum would never come back to life… It is the worst thing in the world.

 He coughed once more then fell silent, chest frozen. You never really realise how much it hurts until it happens to you, but it hurts, and a lot. I closed his eyes and allowed myself to sit crying until the tears just stopped coming.

“It’s him!” A deep voice yelled and I was suddenly overcome by five warriors. Pushed to the floor and handcuffed with hate, I was taken away. I didn’t struggle, there was no point. I was a murderer and these Time Lords obviously knew it.

The world passed in a blur as I was flown to the centre of the capital where I was locked in a stone cold cell which promised death. Life couldn’t get any worse…  

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