It smells like darkness. It can't be hers.But this. This has to be hers. Tainted by shadow.
It won't come off no matter how many times I wash it. No matter how many times I hide it away. I can bury it six feet in the ground and I can still feel it burning my nostrils. [the sound of hands being rubbed against a bristly face again and again]
Who? Who
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This is about her.
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Who's "her"?
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And who is she?
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She stopped them. For a brief moment, time and space and dimensions and schisms stopped. The noise stopped, Doctor. And I could hear breathing.
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And this is the girl who went missing?
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I-
If-
She's too important to let go.
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All these years, finally found the answer.
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And while you're out, FIND HER.
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