Surprisingly the Krarl's not parading me up the main street, as my dreams had convinced me they would. I had always thought I'd be chained up and dragged along like some animal, or tied to a stake hoisted above faceless shouts, not smuggled out into the thickets behind my home.
It's also odd that this Krarl is also alone.
At least, I hope it's alone.
One Krarl, even unprovoked, is bad enough.
Out of nowhere something pinches my shoulder and my neck. I start to cry out but something clammy stifles it.
"YOU CANNOT KNOW WHERE THE DOCTOR IS," he hisses in my ear, letting go of my mouth.
"Then how am I supposed to follow you?" I snap. I try to look around. Everything's white. The bugger's gone and blinded me! While my back was turned! Of all the demeaning, shameful---!
"COME," the Krarl orders. I can hear him move forward, and my legs jerk forward. Something in my being---or more specifically my legs---is compelled to follow probably exactly where the Krarl goes. Thoughts fume and swirl a bit, bouncing alternately between humiliation for my helpless state, hatred for the Krarls, wondering where the kuzimu we are. And underneath runs a curiosity about this Doctor.
There's a change from vegetation to dirt---must've been one of the old fields packed down by the first phases of the war---and then from dirt to metal. A door closes behind me after I enter. Any pretense of confidence flees as soon as I hear that latch click. I'd speak---or more likely scream---but I'm so terrified my vocal chords refuse to work, so I tremble instead.
"I RETURN WITH YOUR REQUEST, DOCTOR," the Krarl calls out. Footsteps start to come, at first far away, but quickly draw nearer. They pause.
"Ah! So you did." They start up again until I feel someone right next to me. "Thank you, Zlom, that'll do. Keep an eye out for anything, would you? I've to fix this one up."
In my right mind I'd get all indignant, but panic holds my right mind hostage at the moment. I start to feel fingers on my face and start to pull away, but there's something that stops me. The touch feels ancient---timeless, really---and it's going to help; I've no idea how, but somehow I just know it is. My head feels funny, and the white I've been seeing begins to rush, slowly at first, but then more furiously. A touch on the neck and the rushing stops, and the white's been replaced with color. I look around, and the colors move as I look. I can see! It's all out of focus, but I can see!
"There," the new voice says. "A bit fuzzy, maybe, but that's probably better."
I nod. Unsure of what to do I slowly sit on the floor, and a particular warm swirl of colors follows and moves more into my field of blurred vision.
After a spell the new voice speaks again with an audible smirk. "Well, some 'scourge of nations' you turned out to be, eh?"