Work Text:
Thump, thump
, his steps echoed through the silence of the night, every fibre in his body on edge as he ran. With each stride, the beat reverberated through his body, like an alarm clock ticking closer to its demise. Piercing purple eyes darted from side to side as he turned the corner, his feet plunging into water, flecks of mud spitting across the fabric..
With yet another step, he buckled, his foot catching on the cobbled ground. His body sent careening into the pavement below, his hands instinctively going out to support himself. White clouds of breath escaped him as he panted, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Cold hands shook as he propped himself up, his fingers submerged in the murky puddle underneath, a faint warmth that was all too familiar, seeping into his skin.
Bringing his hands to the faint moonlight, he recoiled, crimson staining his hands as it dripped down his arm.
He blinked, tears pooling in his eyes, his body trembling as he stared in horror..
The metallic scent of blood filled his nostrils, a wave of nausea washing over him as he staggered to his feet, a looming sense of dread settling in his stomach.
The wisps of moonlight were quickly chased away, a looming shadow standing behind him, watching.
He froze, a whimper involuntarily escaping him, as the figure's hand darted towards him.
Taking a desperate lunge away, he was yanked back into their grasp, hood in their tight grip. He cried and screamed, begging and pleading to be released, his feet and hands kicking and scrambling at the air, praying for help, his pride shattering for a moment as he opened his mouth to shout her name, only to be silenced as the man's hand muffled any further cries.
“Escaping?” The man tutted, his hand working its way down to his neck, tightening.
He mechanically turned toward the voice, meeting the hungry gaze of his captor, their eyes gleaming behind the mask.
“Let me go!”
Their lip curled in an amused sneer as their other hand delved into the pockets of the billowing coat.
“C’mon, puppet.”
Pulling out a metal object, the harbinger gave a smile that was all teeth and no emotion.
Purple eyes widened, throwing his head back as he tried to summon some sort of electro-power, anything, as he fought against the harbingers grip.
Feeling a sharp pain in his neck, his gaze blurred, dark tinting the edges of his vision. He could pinpoint the moment he felt the autonomy of his body flee the fight that kept him alive draining from his body. With the shred of his fading consciousness, he mustered up all the spite in his body, spitting out one final retort.
“Screw you, Dottore.”
And like the puppet he was, he fell, his strings cut.
