SUPERWHOLOCK Imagines

Olden Times

This was the last time you were going to trust The Doctor.

He had planned on taking you on a romantic date to make up for you nearly getting killed by Daleks. And guess what? Now, you're waiting in a cell for your turn at the guillotine. He had said the wrong thing to the wrong person and now you're going to die. Why does this always seem to happen? One moment you're having fun and the next your boyfriend is getting you killed. He had somehow managed to insult the Queen of England and now you have to pay for it.

"I want them dead," the Queen roars, the crowd cheering in agreement. The Doctor just had to decide to come back to an era where its sociably acceptable to chop someone's head off in public. You shuffle along with the guards as they drag you towards the guillotine. You hold back your vomit as you lean over, placing your head in the bloody wooden slot. The basket in front of your face is full of blood from the past victims heads that had fallen into it before yours will.

"If I somehow manage to not die today, I'm going to kill him," you mumble, waiting silently for them to end your life. You had found it easier to not fight with them. Fighting sped up the process of your death and nobody wanted that. The crowd wanted to enjoy this for as long as possible. You listened as someone read off your crimes, explaining exactly why you were being dismembered. Everyone cheered as the men prepare the blade, getting ready to kill you. You closed your eyes, hoping for it to be swift and painless.

And it was.

The blade fell, the crowd screamed, there was darkness.

But it wasn't because your head had been chopped off.

It's because it didn't.

The Doctor had managed to somehow pull you from certain doom, leading to you both running away from an angry mob carrying pitch forks and torches. They wanted you dead.

"I swear, this is the last time you're taking me anywhere in that damned box!" You scream as you run along side him, your breathing coming out quick and short as you round a corner. The Tardis was within sight now, making you happy. You both managed to climb inside before anyone got to you, the both of you disappearing from sight as you travelled back to modern time.

You step out of the box, still breathing heavily from running for your life. You're quite surprised your not used to it since it happens so often.

"Ready for round two?" He questions, leaning against the door way of the Tardis. You glare at him, trying to ignore the puppy dog look he was giving you. But you cave in anyways.

You always did.

And here you are now, standing in the middle of an arena full of Romans, with gladiators fighting to the death.

And here you are now, running for your life once again, swearing to never travel again.

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Sorry it's short, lame, and boring! It's been awhile since I've updated this book so this was just a filler really. Please leave suggestions!!!