You Can't Run Forever

Prologue: The End of the Last Great Time War

Gallifrey was on fire. Literally, the whole planet was burning. The Daleks had invaded the planet and were taking it out with a vengeance. Most of the population are dead, with the rest struggling to resist against the Dalek's somewhat impenetrable armour and death rays. This once great civilisation is now in tatters, strewn across the land. I was one of the last ones left, along with the Doctor, the Master and a few others.

We had been developing a way to hide ourselves, knowing full well that we were well and truly defeated. The idea was an old theory; that if we were able to rewrite our biological pattern, the Daleks would not be able to find us, as we would no longer be Time Lords. It tooks weeks to perfect, but, being the geniuses we were (sorry, but we are), the task was accomplished. We each took a device and went our separate ways. I never saw those gentlemen again. The last thing I did see was the planet exploding, taking the whole of the Dalek armada with it.

I presumed the Doctor and the Master perished along with our home planet. I took a moment, and then was on my way. In the end I didn't use the device, having thought I was the only one to escape out of the two warring civilisations.

And so, I ran.

And this is the story of me, the last of the Time Lords.

Chapter One: 870 Years Later

It was dark. Very dark. It was so dark it was light. 'Wait,' I thought. 'That analogy doesn't make sense.' It was dark, let's just leave it at that.

"Where am I?" I asked myself. "Good question." I answered. "I don't even know."

I realised that I was talking to myself again. I've been alone for so long, I just talk to myself to keep myself company. I sighed, and continued forwards. Ever forwards, only stopping to look over my shoulder, just to check if I was being followed. I was quite certain that all the Daleks had been destroyed in the Time War, but one can never be sure...

I sighed again. I was probably being paranoid. No species can survive for 890 odd years without someone hearing about them, can they? My constant thoughts echoed throughout my skull...thoughts of being alone, me, the last of the great race of Time Lords, destined to be alone as long as I am alive, for there is no one left...

After a 23 minute walk (which seemed to take forever and a day), of me thinking inside my brilliant mind, subconsciously trekking through the low hanging vines, over the massive brown roots of trees almost as old as myself, and through to the edge of this midnight jungle (aside from the circumstances the walk was actually quite good, you should try it), I managed to find my destination; a section of the massive forest that had been transformed into a citadel of sorts.

The massive structure did not blend into its surroundings. It more just stood out like a human in a crowd of Raxacoricofallapatorians. And trust me, that's not good. You'd probably get squashed like a bug with all those big things walking around. And you thought the Pamplona bull run would stampede you. Word of advice: don't anger them.

When I finally realised that I had been ranting about Raxacoricofallapatorians and bulls for five continuous minutes, I stopped, took a deep breath in, and assessed my situation.

I had first heard of this place in rumours. A place so deep in the Amazon no one comes back, and if they do, they return without their sanity. Since centuries of being alone has already caused me to lose my sanity years and years ago, I figured I should come out of this fine. At the very least, I've faced worse: Daleks, the occasional Cyberman, and other life-forms hell-bent on world domination.

The citadel was a concrete jungle. 'Hehe,' I thought to myself. 'Jungle within a jungle. Jungle-ception!' Gosh, I'm an idiot. Back to the rumours. I first heard them a while ago, while visiting New York to watch the final part of the build of the Empire State Building. People, adventurers, explorers, all who had gone to the Amazon in search of a mysterious citadel, thought to contain an undiscovered civilisation. Those who had gone there, had not returned. No letter, no body, no trace.

Those that did come back had lost their minds, shouting incoherent nonsense. I was intrigued by this 'citadel', so I decided to find out more. I managed to get a hold of one of the people who had gone insane, hoping to get some form of information from him.

The first thing I got was the name. Thomas Hopkins. That's a start, at the very least. Names can be very useful. Or powerful, depending on whether you were using it for good or evil purposes, and whether you know how to use it. Today, I was using his name to try to get more information from him. I placed my hands on his temple and immediately he trusted me, letting me gain access to his memories.

What I ended up seeing shocked me. He arrived at the citadel, the very same one I was currently outside of. Everything seemed fine. The party he was with advanced. An overgrown garden was surrounding the citadel on all sides. In the gardens were statues of human-like creatures, but with wings. 'Angels,' Thomas noted. Also, their hands seemed to be covering their face, like they were crying. 'Odd,' thought Thomas. 'why would anyone have these sort of statues in a garden? They seem depressing...'

They moved onwards, cautiously, to what looked like the main entrance. Thomas thought he saw something move in the corner of his eye. He looked behind him but didn't see anything.

"That's funny." He spoke aloud. "I swear I saw something."

"Don't fool yourself Thomas. There's nothing there. Only stupid statues." One of Thomas' companions replied.

They continued forward. The party came to a large area, with some sort of stone pillar in the middle. The pillar was decorated with chiselled crenellations in the shapes of faces.

One of Thomas' companions stated that it looked ugly. There was nothing on the pillar; it just had a flat, smooth top.

"Maybe someone already looted the place and didn't tell anyone?" Thomas wondered.

"No," someone else commented. "They'd boast. I know I'd want to."

"Ok. Let's presume that the loot, or whatever it is that we are looking for, is still here. How about we spread out in pairs and look for it?" Thomas said. The rest agreed.

Thomas and another gentlemen split from the main group and headed through a corridor on the left. The sides of the corridor were mossy, and had torch brackets hanging from them, about three quarters of the way up. The torches had obviously gone out years, maybe decades, or even centuries ago. Nobody knew when this was built, or when the last torches were replaced, in this case.

The corridor was steadily getting darker as they moved further down it, away from the main room. Thomas pulled a torch from his pack, and switched it on, at the same time advising his companion to do so as well. They continued on. Soon, the only light came from their torches.

The two gentlemen soon found themselves at a stairwell. Thomas looked down. All he could see was black nothingness.

"Shall we?" He pondered.

"No where else." The other responded.

After a while the two reached another chamber of sorts. Nothing in this one, only more statues. 'These ones are also covering their faces,' Thomas thought, 'why, though?'

"Aaaaaaahh!!" Thomas' partner cried out. "That one just moved!"

Because of the shout, Thomas dropped his torch.

"Shit! Look what you made me do!" Thomas ducked down to pick it up. It was probably the move that saved his life.

Thomas stood back up. What he saw freaked him out.

"What the f--" Thomas was seriously freaking out. The couple statues that were in the room had somehow moved and surrounded him. Thomas backed off, slowly. Thomas' partner was gone. No trace. Just, vanished.

Thomas slowly moved out of the chamber. He was so scared that he didn't even blink. He didn't dare blink. In the chamber, one second the statues were there, next they weren't. Thomas didn't want them sneaking up on him and sending him to hell, or even worse.

As soon as his feet hit the bottom of the stairwell, Thomas turned around and sprinted. As fast as he could possibly go. Normally, he wouldn't run this fast in his wildest dreams, but adrenaline was pumping through his veins and compelling him to new limits.

Suddenly, there was black. I realised that that was the end of the memory.

I backed out of Mr Thomas Hopkins' memories. I didn't need to see anymore. I returned my hands to the pockets of my favourite trench coat and started to walk out. Then, all of a sudden, Thomas' voice came trailing across the room.

"Beware the Weeping Angels."

(Derpy's perspective)

Derpy flew down the main street of Ponyville with purpose. The mare had gotten a job working as a postmare, and her sector was Ponyville. That suited her, of course, because most of her friends lived there.

"Hey Derpy!" A rainbow coloured pegasus shouted from above. "Got any mail for me today?"

"Hi Rainbow Dash!" Derpy replied. "Here you go!"

"Thanks Derpy! Later!"

Derpy flew on. She noted that her flying had been improving as of late. She hadn't been crashing into as many ponies as usual.

Having no more letters to deliver on this particular street, she raced off about four metres off the ground. She zoomed past Twilight's library, past Rarity's workshop, rounded Sugarcube Corner, and continued --

"DERPYYY!!" Somepony shouted as Derpy rounded the corner. Derpy looked back, saw a pink pony waving her hoof at her. Derpy applied the 'brakes' (don't ask me how, it's Derpy), and did a u-turn.

"I thought you might have a letter for me!" Pinkie sort of asked and exclaimed at the same time. "Then we could sit down and have some cupcakes!"

"Sorry, Pinkie. I wish I had something to deliver to you, but I don't today..." Derpy replied, sadly.

"That's ok Derpy! It's not your fault!" Derpy's face lit up at this.

"Thanks Pinkie. Can we still have some cupcakes?"

"No." Pinkie remarked. Derpy looked confused and sad. She turned to go.

"Wait, Derpy! I meant not cupcakes, muffins! I know how much you lo--" Pinkie couldn't finish her sentence because as soon as the word 'muffins' was said, Derpy bolted inside, knocking Pinkie head over hooves, and somehow was already wearing a chef's hat.

"I like your style!" Pinkie exclaimed, reminding herself that she often broke physics like that.

"I thought today that we would use a new ingredient." Pinkie told Derpy, while placing her own chef's hat on. "It hasn't been used before."

"That sounds exciting!" Derpy said. "I just can't wait for the muffinsss!"

"I know!" Pinkie exclaimed.

She poured in the flour, eggs, chocolate and whatever else goes in muffins. Pinkie then drew out a vial out of her fridge.

"Oooh, is that the secret ingredient?" Derpy pondered.

"No! Yes. Sorry, I just don't want anypony finding out about this. I made it myself." Pinkie replied.

"Well, if it's such a secret, pour it in!" Derpy told Pinkie.

Pinkie pulled the stopper off the vial and poured a pink serum in the mixture. A small pink explosion came from the bowl. The two ponies giggled. Pinkie poured the mixture into a tray, then placed it in the oven.

"Here we go!" She exclaimed as she turned the knob of the oven to on.

The oven turned on, and after five seconds had passed, blew up.