LEGION

Chapter 9

 

“It's a story that parents on Galifrey used to scare their children with, to make them behave.” The Doctor told Donna. They'd moved from the kitchen back into the library, and were seated on a sofa, well away from the fireplace and any sharp objects. The Doctor had set the device on the sofa between them. He told Donna not to worry, that there was an alarm set to go off whenever it sensed a tangible psychic presence.

All of the lights were on now, thanks to the Doctor and his sonic screwdriver. The gathering gloom of night outside the library's tall, stately windows was occasionally lit by flashes of lightning, punctuated by angry grumbles of thunder. The gauzy curtains hanging near the broken window frilled out into the room, with the slightest breeze. A little rain was occasionally blown indoors by the wind, their droplets glistening on the surface of a side table near the window.

Donna had dragged a reluctant and sullen Violentia with along with them. Her friend sat stiffly on a side chair, hands clasped in her lap. She now swung towards total denial, refusing to acknowledge Donna, the Doctor, ghosts, her husband's death or even the storm.

“Go on, what's this story then? It's certainly the night for a scary tale.” Donna said, curious about this thing that was haunting Violentia's home. She thought the Doctor still looked discomforted, as if still trying to deny what he'd heard in the kitchen.

“It goes back to the Dark Times, a time when the universe was still new, surrounded by powerful beings capable of doing great good. But, there were also beings of tremendous evil, terrible, unmentionable things.” The Doctor explained, crossing his legs and leaning back, making himself more comfortable. “It was a time of chaos and creation. In the Dark Times, there weren't any Time Lords. My ancestors were war-like barbarians, dwelling in mud and thatch huts, going nearly mad from living so close to the open schism of Time. Our planet didn't even have a name, back then. It took ten thousand years for the population to begin to evolve into Time Lords, and tens of thousands more to become civilized and passive, mastering their war-like tendencies. Well, most of them did.” The Doctor shrugged. “Sometimes there were Time Lords and Time Ladies who took the path of least resistance and chose violence and aggression; the Master, the Rani, the Killer Queen, the Meddling Monk. Yet, they were rare exceptions. Until the Last Great Time War, I suppose.” The Doctor's voice suddenly sounded bittersweet. “When the Daleks came. That's when my race began to devolve.”

“But, what about this Legion thing?” Donna persisted, getting the feeling that the Doctor really didn't want to talk about it. Still, she didn't like being left out of the loop.

“According to almost universal legend,” The Doctor said, heaving a big sigh. He really didn't want to talk about this, but reckoned that Donna had a right to know. “this...thing, is usually described as 'The Stealer of Souls' or 'The Hungry One.' In the Dark Times, my people called it 'The Consuming Shadow.' Later, much, much later, it became known by what apparently is its true name: 'Legion.' It is said that anyone who has done harm, intended wrong or committed an act of evil can be marked by this entity.”

“Marked how, exactly?” Donna asked. She flinched when a particularly sharp flash of lightning was followed by a ear-numbing crack of thunder. The Doctor hadn't seemed to have noticed, but she saw Violentia cringe in her chair.

“It leaves its stamp on your soul--if you believe in souls, or the psyche, if you prefer. That unique, invisible essence that makes you and I what we are, Donna” He told her, holding up his right hand with his thumb and forefinger pinched together. “The cumulation of one's life experiences. Our cultural and social beliefs, knowledge, ancestry, sensory memories, emotions, personality, the conscience. Legion takes your soul or psyche and traps it for all of eternity. It exists for no other purpose than unending torment. What's worse, is that sometimes, if someone has died close by at the same moment, Legion ensnares innocent souls along with the marked one, for no other reason than to make them suffer. It exists only to cause pain and fear. Emotional torture. Feeding off of it like some cosmic leech. And, the mark it puts on you is completely hidden. You will never know it's there until the moment of your death.”

“What's this Legion look like?” Donna wondered.

“Nobody knows.” The Doctor said. “It is said to be made up of the essences of every being it has ever taken, yet has no physical form. On one hand, it traps those it has taken in the places where they died or were buried or were most emotionally attached to. Yet, the marked souls are also what allows Legion to exist, anywhere in time and space. From the Dark Times to the end of the universe, from Earth to the Medusa Cascade and beyond. At least, that's how the legends have it.”

“Poppycock!” Violentia suddenly burst out. Both Donna and the Doctor turned to look at her. Donna was getting annoyed, but the Doctor, after a quick glance at his device, appeared concerned. Violentia got up and began pacing back and forth. “You two are sitting here making up stories, when some murderer is running around loose, trying to kill us all. You're both mad. No, wait,” She whirled an charged up to the Doctor, “maybe you killed Michael, Doctor. What was it for then?” She shook her fist at him, “Money? Revenge? “I'll have the police on you for this!”

Donna was about to protest, but the Doctor stopped her with a warning look. She'd learned to respect that look of his. It meant that something was wrong, or at the very least, was not quite right. He stood very slowly, carefully skirting around the raging woman. Donna noticed that there was suddenly a big red light flashing on the Doctor's device.

“Listen, you're not yourself.” The Doctor said in a low, urgent voice. “But I can help you, Violentia, I promise. I can stop all of this from happening, but you have to trust me.”

“Never mind the bloody police!” Violentia shouted, stalking over to a secretary desk on the other side of the room, “I think I'll handle this myself.” Without warning, she yanked open a drawer and pulled out a small revolver. “As someone once said, 'In taking revenge, man is equal to his enemy.' Well, I may not be a man,” she snarled, “but you killed Michael, and if I kill you before you kill me, I think that will balance the books quite nicely, Doctor.”

“No! You can't! He's innocent. He couldn't have killed Michael, he was in Cardiff when that happened.” Donna called out to her friend. She watched with horror, as Violentia's arm raised, pointing the gun straight at the Doctor's chest. The Doctor stopped stock still, his arms outstretched, breathing hard, worry filling his eyes. Slowly, Violentia's hand tightened on the trigger.

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