The Doctor Dances

15. Farther Insight

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Words, that’s all they are.  Black scrolls on a blank page waiting for more to be written.  But the writer has disappeared, away from his desk and away from Earth entirely.  No ‘sane’ person would know the causes except for the few in the world that have had the chance to become ‘insane’.

No one saw the statue morph into something truly hideous in nature.  The man was still bent over his desk as he looked away from his fatal inspiration.  As he looked back scrawled words disappeared from the page as the angel reached out.  A serene look turning into a dangerous snarl, just as the prey should be afraid of the natural predator.  Shocked the man shook his head, assuming himself to be hallucinating.  A note from the Narrator: but here’s the sad fact, the statue moving was not a figment of imagination, it was in fact an inviting reality.

Once again the angel moved as tired eyes were closed for only a moment, one last blink.  Hungry, it had waited to reach out further.  But yet too weak to move fast enough but still striking in the time that had been used to foolishly close loose ends.  A muffled scream was cut short and the house was once again lapsed into silence.  Ink was misplaced and a pen fell to the floor, leaving an imprint to last forever in the dust.

And here’s what the final page said: ‘I cannot forever find a way to escape death so I look at the fatal objects around me.  An angel is a meter away, silent and stone.  But somehow I cannot stand to feel as if it is alive.  As in the corner of my eye a faint shadow moves when I turn away.  This is to be viewed as the ramblings of an un-assessed man.  Midnight strikes as I turned only a few moment ago, my scrawl turning illegible.  Stone cracks and a sonic scream fills the air as I turned to look only for a second the stone has appeared to move.  Anger is written on the face as if in the act of trying to reach out.  But now I am sure as I blinked that it is ever closer.  I am growing scared of this thing in my room and now I shall leave but not yet.  Let me try one more time.  This time I will write what happens after I close my eyes.  Fear is-‘

William Burton’s name filled the thoughts of the angel during a midsummer’s night.  The house stood with the waiting hunter, empty as if waiting for someone to come back.  And again the snarl turned to a serene peace that tricked all of its victims.

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The world could not have been any farther from safety as a man shook with fury and regret.  Empty and alone, waiting for the guilt to relapse in what would take hundreds of years.  Hearts beating but ever far from being in human sense.

A man who would continue to fall for the tricks of his depressed life.  A being who could appear to be fine on the outside but the farthest away below the basic senses.

This man is not a man at all for his name is The Doctor. 

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A/N: This is going to be the start to a new adventure.  I will be holding a contest soon to name the next book through a one shot but for now comment on what you think of this and how Clair should be (alive or dead) because I'm waiting to start but I REALLY NEED FEEDBACK.

Erin Xx.