DarkHand's story

Chapter 1: The Sacrifice of a Father

My name is DarkHand, I was born on a planet called Gallifrey. I am a Time lord. Think of it like as scholar of time. We watch as time unfolds, seeing and knowing all of time all at once. If we concentrate hard enough, we can see potential futures, No, we do not see the future, we see all of time, each decision leading up to them like points on a graph. How do we travel through time you ask, Most high ranking timelords have what is known as a T.A.R.D.I.S. or Time And Relative Dimension(s) In Space. They're bigger on the inside. My story is a tragedy, filled with pain and suffering.

The Dalek squadrons could be heard overhead, as Gallifrey burned to a smoldering hulk, a Gallifreyan rushed his only son through what remained of their ancestral home. As they reached an old the dumbwaiter, the father turned to his son, gesturing to the black button on the inside, "Go, hit the button, don't look back," He said as he kissed the boy's forehead, "She'll take care of you, good luck." The father lifted the boy into the dumbwaiter and closed the hatch. "Take care of him." He whispered to the hatch, as though it could hear him. He jumped as the door behind him exploded into a thousand pieces. He turned, brandishing what looked like a sword missing it's blade. As he stood with pride, a robotic voice rang the smoke, "Identify yourself." The voice yelled out. A metallic can-like entity rolled into the room, a small weapon pointed at the man. "My name is DarkHand," as he spoke a blade sprung from the hilt of the sword, "I am an assassin of the Hand of Peylix, now DIE!" The man sprinted towards the Dalek, tears streaming down his cheeks. As he ran toward it, a bright light erupted from its weapon, as the Dalek Yelled "EXTERMINATE!!!" the man fell to the ground.