InsaneJournal

Who: The Tenth Doctor & Remy.
What: Seeking life to feed upon.
Where: Vicinity of the museum and theater.
When: Day 21. 10:45AM.
Rating: PG-13.
Status: Complete.


Familiar red Chucks were shuffling down the road in a manner rather unlike the Doctor. Oh, he still walked with purpose, but that purpose now was to follow the delicious scent of life and feed. This version of the Doctor? He wasn't picky. Any ol' brain would do, even if it wasn't close to the best.

Shoulders slumped, his head lolled to one side and the shadows masked the dried blood and open gashes that marked his face. How close would one have to get to notice the tattered bits of fabric that were once sleeves sticking to limbs that had been slashed repeatedly? To notice the blood and dirt that marred his clothing and what skin that could be seen? A beaten and battered undead body could only stand so straight, after all.

And it was hard for a zombie to pick itself back up after a stumble when tendons were tore in its hands. Those conspicuous holes through his palms with little white bits of bone visible in the light? Those would add a degree of difficulty to grabbing onto chosen snacks, not to mention all the dried blood that coated the skin. It was a good thing zombies were oblivious to pain because those wounds had to have hurt when they were made.

In fact, the Doctor was oblivious to nearly everything, including the darkness that lingered long after the sun should have come up. Light wasn't necessary to sniff out tasty brains, not at all...