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**Doctor Louis D'Ville** · **02-17-2015, 11:57 PM**

"No one is free. Even the birds are chained to the sky."

― Bob Dylan

Still lovin' you...

The tall steel gates to the manor slowly swung open and made a deafening creaking noise.

The Doctor welcomed the sound and let the long gust of wind pushing behind him help him down the pebble sparkled path. The appearance of the manor looked new, but in reality, it was centuries old. Fifty six rooms inside, including fifteen bedrooms, five dens, a kitchen in the cellar which would car for all five floors, many studies, and a library.

The Librarian met this noblest of men in the place that she's felt the most comfortable since she was a young girl. The place that she's occupied for the same amount of time. He approached her with the same honest demeanor as the Doctor once did. The romance and kindness reminded her very much of the many stories that she's read in her lifetime. Countless amounts of stories about boy meets girl, girl loses something, boy finds it, boy returns it, they get married. Or the good ol' mistress in distress.

Classic.

Although it reminded her of such, something seemed different when the Doctor would come to town. His approach was much stronger than the Noble Man she claimed herself to now. His mellow, calm voice and those freezing cold eyes that peered straight into her soul. When the Doctor would speak to her, her body temperature felt like it dropped five degrees.

She shivered.

She remembers him occasionally. The time in between his visits became longer and longer, and he never seemed like he planned on staying for too long. Just a night or two to peddle his goods to the stupid townsfolk then on his way he was.

There was something about him though. Something that she couldn't place, but grabbed her and intrigued her oh so very much.

"Excuse me ma'dam."

Her concentration train now derailed.

She looks up from the book she was blankley staring at and smiles at the housecarl.

"Um. Oh.. Yes?"

The Librarian is still used to being the librarian. Not a 'ma'dam'.

"It is nearly dusk and His Noblest will be arriving shortly. You shall prepare for his arrival then?"

She closes the book and sets it beside her on a small wooden crafted table.

"I shall."

The Librarian was unsure how much more ready she could be for her newly wed husband to arrive at home. She was forced to wear gowns and large uncomfortable dresses nearly all hours of the day. She nodded to the housecarl and with a bow, he closed both large doors behind him. She sighed and sat back down on the chair.

Hello, my dear.

The Librarian nearly jumps from her seat as she was reaching back for her book.

That voice.

That voice sounded so familiar.

As she turned in the chair she seen him. Sitting in the corner as if he's been there watching her for hours. It grew a bit darker in the room as his presence was known to her. She peered at him through the shadows, only able to see a dark outline of his body and those icey cold, blue eyes.

A bit frightened, she reaches for the candle lit next to her and holds it up. As she does so the large double windows from behind her swing open with a gust of wind and blow it out.

"Lou? Ha-... How--"

I see you still have your love for books.

She reaches frantically for a piece of timber to light the candle again. Before she finds one she feels his breath on the back of her neck. She drops the candle and turns about quickly to face him. The chill she remembered, that once intrigued her, scared her.

"Doctor, I-- How did you find me?"

The Doctor chuckles a bit.

Were you hiding, deary? I did not find it very hard to locate you at all. You're the talk of the town after all.

"I know you're disappointed."

Disappointed? Not at all. How could a lowley, travelling peddler such as myself count on the promises made from true love from so long ago?

The Librarian doesn't speak. She exhales a visible puff of steam from her own warm depths.

"How could I count on the promises of thief? You come and go as you please, robbing the very people that I lived nearby my entire life. My family. My friends. You were killing my town. You were killing.... me."

The hurt you feel for your fellow townspeople is normal, my dear. Admittedly, my medicine was never exactly what it has ever cracked up to be.

However.

It was never the medicine that was the cure. The idea of hope placed into the hearts of the people was the cure, my love. Placing hope where there is none, now that, increases the longevity of life.

"Stealing from people and leaving them with a false promise to cure them of sickness and pain is not a symbol for hope, Doctor. It's what crooks do. It's what fakes do. Those same false promises you made to all of those people were just as empty as the false promises you made to me! How long should I have waited for you? You've told me countless times to wait for you. To wait and you would come for me and we would ride far away from this place, start something of our own, and live forever."

False hope?

Surely not everyone has forgotten this face over time. I continue to return and deliver my treatments and they follow in the same footsteps as they have everytime I've arrived. Begging the Doctor for another treatment.

"If they're not dead by the time you return."

The Doctor snaps at her and grabs her by the arm. His hands are so cold.

Yeeeees. If they're not dead.

She whimpers a bit and loses the feeling in her legs.

"What's happened to you?"

If my false promises have killed so many of the people you care for. What makes you think that the false promises you've made have done any different?

"STOP FIEND!"

The double doors have swung open and a tall man wearing a powdered wig much like the Doctor's actual hair stood in the doorway.

"Unhand my lady!"

"William! No!"

The Librarian shrieked out as the Doctor released her and she fell to the ground.

"I don't know how you got in here theif! But this is your end!"

The man drew a long sword from a sheath at his side and pointed it at the Doctor. The Doctor smiled and as the Noble Man approached him and swung the sword to strike the Doctor down, he countered by grabbing a large brass candlestick from a nearby table. The clanging of brass on steel echoed through the room as the Librarian continue to shriek and cry out for help. Soon enough, several guards stationed throughout the manor came to the aid.

They watched as the Doctor smiled and laughed as the Noble Man continued to come after him blow after blow. The Librarian hid over by the open window which was blown open from before. She continued to cry watching the two battle around the room.

"Would you do something?! Help him!"

One guard removed his sword from his sheath as well and went after the Doctor! Mistakingly, he swings and counters his own Noble Man's sword which left the two blades flinging out of each of their hands. The Doctor laughs aloud and cracks the guard across the face with the brass candlestick. As the guard falls to the ground bleeding perfusly from his nose, the Noble Man tries taking down the Doctor by tackling him! Unable to take the Doctor down with the attempt, the two stumble backwards and fall into the Librarian, pushing her and the Doctor out the window.

As the two fall to the ground from the fifth floor, the Doctor reaches for her hand. She catches one more glimpse of the Doctor's icey cold, blue eyes before her body bounces off the hard-pebbled pavement. The Doctor lands at the same time but in a large bush which cushions his fall, but still loses consciousness. The Librarian on the other hand looked on through one eye as it filled with red. She cannot speak. She cannot move. She cannot breathe. And soon, she no longer lives.

I suppose you're quite the storyteller too then, aren't you Mister Goat Face?

It appears you liked my story so much that you chose to nearly relive it in your own little universe. Tell you what, stick to your movie making, my friend. Let someone else write the story while you continue to try and figure out those complicated, complicated lines.

Now, I mentioned my appreciation for you spouting off on all of my recent accolades here in the XWF. It didn't take much research to find out that I'm kind of a big deal. X-Treme Champion. King of the XWF.... Yes, yes. We've all heard it. I always feel like a broken record with each new patient I receive, you know? I hate to gloat, but I just feel it would be unfair to any of you if I wasn't sure you all knew what you were getting yourselves into. No one has learned yet, my hairy, goat-loving, little friend. So, I suppose, let this be a lesson to you.

But enough about me.

I did fail to mention a few minor details when speaking of your debut match the other night. I do apologize. Pinning six different competitors in your gauntlet match is quite impressive, I must say.

And with a broken arm for that matter! Impressive. Definitely impressive. Who were those six men you defeated, by the way? I don't recognize any of the names you mentioned.

Do you know I've been winning matches here in the XWF with just one eye? This eye patch I wear isn't as deceiving as the glass eye I once had. I had a little incident, you see. So if you're feeling a little under one hundred percent come Warfare, don't feel bad. I've been handicapped my entire career here. Unless you still feel uncomfortable, then I would have no objection to you postponing our session for a later time.

No hard feelings, of course. My doors are always open, my friend, and I take on all challengers at any time! I would gladly oblige if you needed to take a few weeks to get back up to par again. Of course, par may not even cut it. It hasn't for a lot of your comrades here in this fine organization. Even going above and beyond like some have done has not been enough.

I've been through several trials as the X-Treme Champion here, Mister Goat Man... I've been told that the nearly fifty pin attempts against me off the books don't count as pretigious title defences like I've claimed they have in the past. If not then so be it. My reign as champion is far from over and by the time I'm done, I could have as many true title defences against someone of the likes of you as I have against those who decide to sneak up and take the title away from me sneakily. After all, the pin attempts have become less and less these days.

Do you see?

They ARE learning.

All of my wonderful patients in this fine federation have finally realized that I chose my fate here. I chose where I stand right now. And I will choose to no longer be the X-Treme Champion. And that, my friend, would even take some extreme measures. It seems like you're coming into this session, acting as if it is some kind of joke.

You're cracking enough of them anyway.

You seem to care more about certain mothers than you do caring about what type of threat you're truly facing here. You have not faced a true threat here yet, my friend. Just because my little queen defeated you during the gauntlet, does not mean that she poses any threat any where else. All of the foolish efforts that each of you have put in are futile to what is ahead of you. The champions that reign here now, I'm sure, will remain champions for quite some time. Jacob has had the Television title since my debut match here in the XWF. Morbid Angel, it seems he has enough strings to pull around here that he can get what he wants when he wants it as well, whether it having a price or taking it by force. Hysteria? Same story. He has an army behind him and there haven't been too many champions like him before him. If you think that joking about certain mothers and claiming your work here is, strangley enough, for your goat friends? You have a lot more to work for, my goat faced friend. You should familiarize yourself with this place before you just dive right in. I know my challenge welcomed all comers, but I admit I was slightly taken off guard by your request.

Either way, Mister Killa. I do wish you the best of luck. And if you feel that this slight handicap you're carrying with you is such a burden. Remember.

My doors are always open and you're more than welcome back.

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