Chapter 1 - Regeneration
A warm, familiar glow engulfed the room as the dawn of a new life began. This was a process she knew far too well, given that she had experienced it nearly two dozen times by now. It felt scary, yet thrilling every single time. “Still in one piece? Thank goodness for small mercies.” She muttered, shaking the final sparks from her new body. As they met the cold metal floor, they disintegrated. Regeneration was such a unique process. Even in her darkest times, her darkest incarnations, it provided a sense of hope. With such a renewal, she could move forward from anything she had faced across any and all of her lifetimes.
Through her new eyes, she scanned the room and felt a sense of pride. Looking back at the life she had just lived, the one she was about to leave behind and learn from. There was a sense of sadness too. The life she couldn’t get back, the friends she had lost, something that would stay with her forever. She had recently lost count as to how many times she had undergone the process of regeneration. Each time it could be the last time, she wouldn’t know until the bitter end. There used to be rules for this sort of thing, but not anymore. With this in mind, she treated every regeneration as her last.
As she paced the console room, and despite the fact she had not yet fully realised her new self, she did not feel as though this desktop theme reflected her. Too much baggage, she thought. Too many sad memories. Lots of happy ones too, but they can easily be drowned out by the sad ones. “Well old girl, perhaps once I’m done marinating, we can give you a new lick of paint, hm?” She tapped the console, and the TARDIS spoke back to her with a plethora of sounds. Smiling, she stood still admiring her beloved ship. Her oldest friend, who stood by her no matter what. Always there, taking her where she needs to go.
The Doctor clutched her chest, hunching over in excruciating pain, “You know, one of these days I really ought to invent a pill for post-regeneration sickness. Perhaps paracetamol too while I’m at it.” She quipped through gritted teeth. Despite having undergone this process many times before, it still hit her like a brick wall. The process could take some time for her to adjust to. She was however fortunate this time, she had not been in a hospital, or plummeted from the sky above Sheffield, or crash landed into the Powell estate while under threat of alien invasion. “Let me just…” she typed commands into the console, and pressed a few buttons before the TARDIS let out a ding! “There we go. Let’s land somewhere rather tranquil for now while you reconfigure hm?” she pulled the main lever, and the TARDIS dematerialised.
Little did the Doctor know, the TARDIS has other plans. In the Scottish Highlands, trouble was brewing, and the Doctor’s life was about to change forever.
Chapter 2 - Hidden Detail
Theodore Clark, Theo to friends, was investigating an abandoned warehouse just 50 miles or so from Inverness. Whilst not his usual haunt, he wanted to challenge himself to cover new ground. He was used to photographing all different aspects of nature, but hoped a new avenue, a fresh perspective even, could give him the break he needs. Whilst photography was his passion, it was more a hobby. There’d been many attempts to break into semi-professional circles but to no avail. Nevertheless, he wasn’t a quitter, quite the opposite in fact.
He had heard stories about this place, none quite consistent with the other which didn’t help much. Still, he thought it’d be a good place to start. Graffiti littered the place; Theo rolled his eyes every time he passed a new one. The shell of the building remained almost fully intact, safe for a few missing doors, windows, and the occasional smashed hole in the wall. Nature was engulfing the building, moss and weeds covered the floors and the walls. The place was like something out of The Walking Dead, bit rank, he thought to himself, as he descended moss-covered steps into the basement level.
Someone had told him that the basement had the best photo opportunities, plenty of cracks in the walls that let the light seep through. He’d packed enough lenses to satiate a whole convention hall of photographers. Better to overpack than under pack though, he thought. A trait he had most certainly picked up from his gran. As he walked through the dimly lit basement, he was still trying to figure out just what this place was used for. No signs of machinery, no wall signs or posters, nothing. Some of his mates said it was a powerplant, some an oatcake factory, but never the same story.
He managed to find a spot where there was a crack in the wall, letting light in, but also vegetation – bingo! This was exactly the kind of thing he was after. As he laid down his backpack, he began to unpack his equipment, before setting up for the perfect shot. It was an unusually sunny day, for a change everything was working out in his favour. He’d be able to get the shots he needed, and hopefully get recognition for his techniques and skill.
As he looked through the lens and snapped up the first of many shots, he noticed something move outside. He leapt back, stricken with fear. It moved so quick, whatever it was. Was it the wind? Is someone else here? His brain flooded with questions, as his watch buzzed to alert him to his high heartrate. I knew this was a bad idea, he thought to himself. Hands shaking, he looked through his camera to see if he managed to snap what went passed. He couldn’t quite make it out, but it looked like the outline of a person, but they were completely grey, and statuesque.
