Doctor Who and The Carnival of Time Ch. 1

A man in a blue leather coat with big lapels, jeans, and leather boots that came up to right below his knees, was inside of a large Victorian steampunk room, with a strange console in the center. The console had buttons, panels, levers, and switches, and a large glass cylinder with a collection of blue rods that rose and sank in the center. He saw a flash on one of the panels, and walked over to it, unable to read what it said before he was thrown across the room.

“Whoa!” He shouted, landing on one of the bookshelves a good 20 feet away.

He shakily rose, after the shaking stopped, and checked to see if he was wounded. “Hm. I seem fine, but how is..?” He walked over to the console, the flashing light now off. “Never tells me what I need.” He grabbed a strange rod off of the console, and put it in his coat, running to the doors. He opened the left door, running out. Behind him was a fairly small police box from 1950’s London.

He shut the door, turning to see a fanciful carnival, with every sort of alien creature enjoying the festivities. There were funhouse mirrors, and large picture frames that appeared to be black all over. “A circus…?”

“Nay, fair leather-clad enchanter! This be the Carnival of Time!” Said a giddy clown, with a stagnant face that hinted at rust. It was dancing cheerfully, supplying the voice with the same cheerfulness.

“I see. Bit of an odd name. Any particular reason?” The clown nodded gleefully, even as a blue reptilian woman ran past in tears.

“Look in a mirror and see for yourself!” The clown ran off in the direction the woman had.

“Hm. That’s certainly odd.” He walked towards the nearest mirror. The person that walked towards him was not himself, in one way. It was a rather slender man, with a white beard. His hair was gray, but only slightly darker than his beard. He was in a black trench coat that had a smiley face pin on the right lapel, and a red undershirt. His pants and boots were black as well. He was perfectly mimicking every motion the younger man made. “This mirror, the face isn’t right.” He murmured. “I’ve long since grown out of that.” He pulled out the rod, as did the man in the reflection. He pressed a button, and it emitted a repetitive beeping. Once he released, it stopped, and he put it to his ear. “Hrm. A temporal scanner, showing what you used to look like.” He put away the rod, and waved to his younger self, which the reflection of course mimicked. “Goodbye, Doctor.”

He walked away, and went to look at what else this odd place had to offer. He saw one of the black picture frames, and walked towards it. As he got closer, it got less dark, revealing a picture. It was very familiar to him, as he realized upon approaching.

The sight before him was of his oldest enemies, the Daleks, the very first time he saw them. He cringed, remembering his many encounters with the soulless cyborgs since. He turned his head, walking away. “What is this place..?”

He walked towards one of the clowns angrily. “What is this place?!” He shouted, not caring if anyone heard.

“Fair traveler, ‘tis the Carnival of Time!” The man, sick of the entire place, lifted the clown by his shirt collar, a whole foot in the air.

“What does that mean, then? And don’t give me riddles, I am not the one to play games with!”

A crowd had gathered, worried and confused by this man’s sudden outburst.

The clown looked down at his assailant. His voice, no longer cheerful, was now a deep monotone. “Subject is acceptable.”

The man’s eyebrow raised. “What?”

The clown repeated itself, its face falling off to reveal a metal panel with red eyes. “Subject is acceptable.” The man was suddenly grabbed by two other clowns, whose faces had also fallen off.

“Hey! Let me go!” He struggled against the android clowns, who had a sudden and immense amount of strength.

“Let me go!” They dragged him behind a tent, another staying behind to calm the people who had seen. “Where are you taking me?!” He shouted, still struggling. The androids were silent, devoting all their energy to dragging him.

They soon reached a wide, tall room, and threw him in a cage. He groaned, his left shoulder having popped out of its socket. “Bloody...” He sighed, out of breath, and then gave a grin. “Best way to find out anyone’s plans. Make a scene and get yourself captured.” In a blink of the man’s eye, a shadow was there that had not been before.

“Huh? Who’s there?” He squinted at the shadow.

“Oh, no one, just the friendly groundskeeper.” said a raspy, elderly voice.

“What are you? Weeping angel? Some sort of polymorph?” He blinked again, and the shadow was gone.

“No, none of that. Just the keeper, of the grounds, of the Carnival of Time.” Then, everything went black.