Chapter Twenty-Four, Part Two: Jennifer's BodyMature

“PLEASE! It’s me and I’m pregnant, remember? I tried to help you!” he cries.                                 

His mouth is like a bloated jelly roll filled with numbing agent, suddenly... he can’t imagine why he said that.                                                             

She’s his TARDIS! Why would she... why would he need to... 

 Say... 

Such a... 

He plummets as the gravity feeds hum suddenly back to life, spewing nice, refreshing weight back into everything relevant in the room. 

His back hits something long, hard... jointed. Bones... feels like- an elbow. 

His head strikes a small roundish object, concussing him. 

When he wakes up again, the floor is an even line again, albeit colored with bits of jagged glass, towering over half the space in broken shards sticking up from... 

 He looks down over the precipice, then down at the thing he landed on. 

His favourite red fiberglass fishing pole! He thought Susan had lost it, back when they... 

But as his eyes travel its length, he sees it. The rod is broken in two places; the reel he cracked with his skull, breaking the handle entirely. The rod is useless. 

And... 

The Master’s still down there. 

“Koschei!” he yells, and instantly stretches out his hands to telekinese the man up. 

He strains, and lifts, tugging with every corner of his very distracted mind. He grabs two nearby shards, to lean... 

“Sharp! OW! Stings!” he hisses, whistling his pain through his teeth. But he holds to them both, feeling the ache begin in his hands, trembling up the nerves of his fingers. 

He’s not going to let go. 

 He’s not. 

Red-orange slicks down the shards, slicking his fingers. 

The long digits, they’re turning white; the fingertips are greying, bleaching like old wood left on a beach.

The End

0 comments about this story Feed