I looked around me, still a little bit dizzy. TARDIS looked wonderful. Wide stairs and enough room to dance around the console. Big buttons, sturdy handles, finally something that will be fun to smash into! Oh, sexy, we are going to have such a great time. I walke- Uh, new balance. Okay. Will take some getting used to. I'm taller, that's nice. I ran the tongue across my teeth and moved my jaw a around. Huh. Okayyy. Stumbling towards the nearest shiny surface I looked at my reflection. Moved my head from side to side.

I roared.

"STILL NOT GINGER?!"

"Brilliant, just brilliant. I've always wanted to be a T Rex. Tyrannosaurus Rex, to be accurate. Thunder Lizard King. Oh I always liked the sound of that. And I'm so shapely too, look at my tail. It really does go all the way back, doesn't it."

"D--Doctor? Is that you?" Greta peaked around the ruined TARDIS console. When he said all of time and space, the mousy little science nerd immediately wanted answers to the dinosaur questions. Feathers? Colors? Mating calls? There were no other right answers in Greta's mind. She had to see dinosaurs. This was not what she had in mind though.

"Yes. Of course it's me. Oh...right.... regeneration. You know I've forgotten this part nearly every time it happens. Usually my companions are with me a little longer before I have to have this talk. Ok, quick run down, when I die I don't really die, I regenerate. I come back with a new face. I'm still me, I'm still The Doctor, I just look a bit more handsome each time."

Her mind still could not quite wrap around her situation. A wildman had come out of a police box and told her he could take her anywhere. He spoke as if he'd been here a hundred times, pointing out dangers and sights she wouldn't have guessed at. It was an archeologist dream it had to be. "Doctor, you're telling me the Tyrannosaur is you? How can I still hear you?"

"Yes yes, Tyrannosaurus, biggest boy on the block. I'd like to see that Mirathinasaur try his little trick again. Wait what? Oh that. Yes, that would be the TARDIS translation circuit. I'm still speaking Galafreian and you're still speaking German. You slipped back into your native language when I frightened you, sorry about that. It happens sometimes with the translation circuits if you're bilingual. Oh and don't worry about me speaking Galafreian, I have been the whole time, it just sounded to you like English because you imagined me english. Same as now, really, but since you don't understand TRex, you just hear me the same as before. But any other T Rex will hear me speaking T Rex, and any other human will hear me in whatever language they think I'm speaking that they understand."

The Doctor. He talked like a madman, but with such enchanting gifts to offer how could she say no. And she realized as he rambled on, she indeed had reverted back to German without even noticing. They came here on her request and he'd been killed within an hour.

"Don't be afraid, we Tyrannosaurus are generally scavengers, and I'd never hurt you anyway." It was true, he even just saved her life when the creature tricked her. The doctor had shoved her out of the way and taken the blow himself. They managed to scare it off, but he collapsed and she had to drag him back to be TARDIS in hope of having some medical kit. When she'd propped him up against the console he had already started glowing. She didn't expect him to come back to life. Regeneration, he called it? And she didn't expect to see another man, maybe even a woman, but this gigantic creature barely even fit in the console room.

"Doctor? Is that your true form? Are you a shapeshifter or something?"

"Oh no, not at all. I'm kinda stuck with one face until my next regeneration. I've gotten better at controlling it lately. Wanted a face that could keep the prettiest at bay this time around. Nobody really messed with a T Rex. It's in the name. We're kings around here." The Doctor held out his wing. "Do you want to see more?" His face was smiling, she thought, but with all those teeth how could you tell. Then she noticed, about the same time he did, the feathers. The Tyrannosaur even had wings.

"Wings? Doctor, Tyrannosaurus Rex has wings, not stubby arms?!"

"What oh? Yes, the bones were mounted backwards. Wings. They're not functional, but make more sense than grippy claws on short arms. They actually figure that out a few years after your time. But look at the color?!" She had to admit, the coppery orange feathering did look very beautiful on the sauropod. It was a question she always wanted to know and she was focused on the new discovery to even realize it was right in front of her. Yes, this place was scary, but that first hour alone she'd made so many discoveries that would change her way of thinking forever. Greta could see so much more, and with The Doctor now in a local body, she had protection enough to survive. "If this is too much for you, I fully understand. You didn't sign up for trauma, or me with this handsome a face. If you want to return home, you just have to flip that little switch on the console. I didn't smash that part with my clumsy big feet." He waved his feet and Greta could swear she felt the TARDIS groan. "Or, we could head back out those doors and figure out who else has such a full beautiful coat of ginger feathers?"

When he asked like that, Greta knew her answer was inevitable. She started for the TARDIS doors, which she realized we're stretching up to accommodate The Doctor's new form. The whole control room was shifting.

"Yes, looks like The control room wants a good regeneration too. Let's let the old girl get changed in private. Sorry dear. We'll be back for the big reveal after I show Grechen a rainbow florescent slime mold that smells like orange sherbet."

"You just called me Gretchen? That's the nickname my grandmother always called me. I miss her. It's funny because you'd said Orange Sherbet and I remember sitting around the table at her house with bowls of it."

"Yes. The translation circuit is very good."

"One question though, Doctor," Greta paused, turning to see the TARDIS had grown quite a bit to accommodate the Doctor, who was backing out of the doors, talking not to her, but to the TARDIS itself. "how are you going to interact with...people? It's not like you can walk around London looking like that."

"Oh it's not hard. A few years after they figure out the wings thing, humanity gets really good at animatronics. Most would be easily convinced I was in cosplay after that. And only a few centuries before that I could be written off as a dragon in most of the world. True, it does rule out Chicago 1920s....unless.....nope....to rediculous....unless. Nope. No. I'm calling it. 1920s Chicago is definitely out unless you really want to go there. So I'm not loosing much in the scheme of things. Besides, the Silurians we're pretty nice in those times."

"Who?"

"Oh, the Silurians? The first intelligent species to evolve on Earth. Long before your time. And some after. We can meet them next if you want. They're going through a bit of a societal evolution at the moment we'll want to speed ahead of. Kind of an award teenage years as the species grows up, pimples and all. But what species doesn't have one of those. In only a couple millennial from now they'll reach some incredible technological kites, and oh buffer the talk talk circuit is going a kitten-sized wobbly. Should sort itself exit on its own. But it might be harder to jive for an hour or two while bluebox fix fix."

"Doctor? This isn't the best time. Because, who are they?"

"Grrr...friend maybe make, maybe not. ....ugh...Silurians. It's really hard to remember my English or German at the moment with the translation circuit on the fritz. I'm afraid you'll have to do the talking. They won't quite believe a Tyrannosaurus or dragon talking right now as much as they would Aliens. And Silurian sign language requires more than wings. Oh wait, that one has a baby, I can have him help translate too. Don't worry, it's all under control. ... But you still need to do the talking"

This go around, obviously, was the most unordinary. While every change was remarkably different, they were all within a certain... range.

My instances of regeneration weren't always predictable. Unavoidable, perhaps, but rarely predictable. I last ventured forth from the TARDIS some two hundred years ago at my best guess. It's been sitting here since, collecting moss and my guttural incredulations. Claw marks mar the door, as I am now simply too large to step across the threshold, let alone open the door.

But why am I outside of it? By all accounts my journey should be over. There were no extenuating circumstances other than the apparent as to why I should still be alive. No loss of memory, no loss of ability save for anything that requires opposable thumbs. (Much, much underrated appendages I must say, now that I lack them.) But alas, I hunger, and I must hunt. I can ruminate later.

For the record I must say I've tried eating only plants and fruits, but they do not cover the need for sustenance. And for a body this large, the need is great. I can smell my next meal hiding under a fallen tree. The fear is pronounced, and only adds to my insatiable insistence that it must be consumed. I kick it with my massive leg and the tree shatters. The creatures underneath are determined to protect their young... for only a moment... before they take in my presence and then collapse in fear. When new to this form, I would scare the adults off and eat only the eggs, only the young, so that the parents could breed again. That was a placation, an offering, a meager barter for my dwindling conscience and soul. Now, as I feel this body aging I simply don't care. I devour the parents in two expeditious bites, before savoring the young to my complete and utter dismay.

Always I come back to the TARDIS, and always it mocks me. Something is in the air and I can taste some inevitableness in it. This entire time I've avoided the other beasts that I impersonate, and they've always been wary of me. They could sense something not quite right about me. Generation after generation their small herds, alone a revelation to me, would always alter their path to avoid me and the TARDIS. Today was different, however. Perhaps they could taste the same air as I could. They could also feel my years weighing my down.

The TARDIS, silent this entire tire, dead to me and the world, begins to hum. I don't hear it, but only sense it. What I hear is a small tree snap behind me, and turn to see at least a dozen Tyrannosaurus Rex gazing in my direction. This is what I last saw while in human form. A literal dinosaur looming over me, blocking the sun before its jaws opened, and I experienced that all too common darkness.

The darkness abates and I'm lying in the bloody grass, naked, save for my human skin. I sit up. It's night, but the glow of the TARDIS warms me. My hands are human hands, and they open the door with ease. I step across the threshold and into an office of wood panels and leather chairs. The far wall is lined with books, and an old man sits at the desk across from me.

"Double-O Seven," he says, "That attire simply won't do. We have a new mission for you. Some nasty business in the Maldives. Suit up. You're booked on a 7am flight to Sri Lanka."

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

🆕 New Here? ✏ Writing Help? 📢 News 💬 Discord

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.

[removed]

[removed]

[removed]

[removed]

[removed]

[removed]

[removed]

[removed]