Doctor Who?

A Fatal Decision

The Doctor felt the surge of vengeance through his veins and allowed himself to be swamped by all manner of evil thoughts. He could do it now. And he didn't care. The Daleks will finally be gone, he will finally be the victor of the Time War- Wait a moment. Something was wrong. He paused for a second, shut his eyes and sank into his memory. What was it? Something... Something someone said...

'Ask his name' 'Because I do' 'Ask his name' 'Because I do'

His eyes slowly opened as his thoughts settled.

"Because I do?" He turned and faced the distorted man. "Just who are you?"

The now unhooded man flicked his yellowed eyes up into the Doctor's, his face contorting itself from a confident smirk into seriousness.

"I am the end-"

"Don't give me poetry!" demanded the Doctor.

"Then call me Valeyard!" he screeched, overwhelmed by shouting. His body convulsed and warped as it tried to retain structure.

There was no reply from the Doctor, he stood white as a sheet, stuck fast, his eyebrows raised in horror.

"Va-Val-Valeyard?"

"Not scrapyard, not boneyard. I am the Valeyard. I am what you will one day call yourself. What you will very soon call yourself."

"What has happened to you?"

"What do you think? Death, Doctor, death. It comes slow to us Timelords. I'm afraid, one day, you will shrivel into this." He brushed a hand over himself, indicating the state of decay his body was under.

"How did you escape the Matrix?"

"How did we escape, do you mean? The truth is, I did not escape. I was rescued. Accidentally, of course. I was left, rotting away until some poor Gallifreyan performed a system check. They found me, I, 'negotiated' some terms and here I am."

There was then a bright burst of light, that temporarily blinded both men.

"The Moment!" The Doctor hurried to switch it off. He forced the button back upwards, deactivating the device. Fortunately for him, it was only in its warm up phase, as he had not fully activated it. He sat crouched by its side.

"How did you find it?" He questioned his evil alter-ego.

"You know that, Doctor, as well as I do, remember? We never could let go of fond memories, could we? It was where it has been for all these years, hidden away on board the TARDIS. Quite a collection of genocidal weaponry we have in there." The Doctor cast his eyes to the ground solemnly.

"One wonders why we keep them."

"You know perfectly well why," the Doctor retorted, "they're no use to anyone in the TARDIS. It's the only sure way to stop them being used."

The Valeyard smiled sadistically.

"Not so safe though, was it. Not from yourself."

Shame swept over the Timelord, crouched on the ground. He had no moral high ground, not even above the amalgamation of his darker selves.

"We are the same man, both in body and, it seems, in our actions. Nearly using a genocidal weapon of mass destruction Doctor, tsk tsk. All that hate bubbling inside you, it must have been- bliss." He stressed the 's' at the end into a rasp. "That is what I have felt towards you for all these years." He paused to collect himself. "Which is why I realised it is my time to do this." The gun he had used previously was now held at arm's length, almost touching the Doctor's cheek. The muzzle nudged gently into his face, forcing him down onto his knees.