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PAGE 6 IS FOR PAST STORIES/LOW IMPORTANT & ANECDOTAL ONES.


ALTERNATE

ROUTE
PART I-III




Seated at her desk glancing at the mini grandfather style clock setting on the ledge of the adjacent window, the woman in a dark colored Hijab wondered where her assistant was.


She knows he set off at the time he had to grab their lunch early, his fiancée worked in the one of the businesses along the way. But that was 15 minutes ago.

Swiping through several Passports and Visas aside, she could not understand where the page she was working from moments ago had gone.


She lost count how many times she had looked at or in the trash can thinking maybe she could have accidentally tossed it.


Looking questionably at the mini grandfather clock, she had never heard it make the odd whirring and moaning sound before. When her co-worker gets back he may have to check whether the batteries are low.


She still recalls the conniption fit he had when someone else replaced the batteries. Rolling her eyes-shaking her head. 'Positive Much.' phased through her mind.


Surprised she hadn’t fallen out of her chair after looking under her desk. The chair slid further back than expected when she had.


“Excuse me,” a female voice at the door sounded. “Is this the floor for ‘the Cultural Arts’?” the office woman wondering where this woman stole her out of date clothing from.


“Um, I don’t believe so.” wondering whether this blonde woman was even her Right Mind, watching her make her way to the window where the min grandfather clock was.


“Be careful of these clocks,” the office woman assuming this wildly clad woman knew something about the Manufacturer. “Some can conceal Death himself.” the office woman taken aback.


The office woman's eyes widened seeing the page she was search-ing for. “Watch yo-“yelling.


The office woman’s face glowing with horror, unable to scooch quickly enough. Back



ALTERNATE
ROUT
PART II

“Be careful of these clocks,” the office woman assuming this wildly clad woman knew something about the Manufacturer. “Some can conceal Death himself.” the office woman taken aback, and came to the conclustion she was nuts.


The office woman's eyes widened seeing the page she was searching for.


“Where did you find that? the Office Woman starting to wonder if her co-worker had been reading it before he left


The oddly clad woman starting to point when. “Watch yo-“yelling when the woman shoved her as hard as she could moments before a white truck with a camper shell came flying through the window pinning the oddly clad woman into the nearest wall.


The Office woman’s hands and feet were practically running over themselves as , unable to scooch quickly enough.


Thinking she hit the wall, she slowly looks up only to see a blonde or is it light brunette woman in her late 20’s in a mixture of street and workwear clothing. (Prayer shooting from the Office Woman)

The Glock redirecting…


Downwards


Towards


Her!


Before either knew the figure impaled between the all and the car Exploded into a golden light. Each’s face encircled in a glowing horror. Each assuming the woman was a goner when the car went up.


Each woman shielding their face’s during the eruption that soon diminished.


Watching in amazement how the man shoved the vehicle with his free hand nearly half way across the room.


“Ohh, that’s gonna leave a mark.” each now gazing upon a man in his late 40s clad in the clothing the woman had been wearing and goatee. Couching.


Swallowing hard, limping while holding the arm that was pinned down by his side.


“Oh, hi.” using the car to steading himself. “Be careful of these clocks, some can conceal Death himself.” repeating the woman’s words verbatim by ver-batim.


Glock leveling on the man. “Please don’t point those at me,” unclear how he managed to replace the woman. “I’m a true fan” caught between the wall.


“of guns.” and the now scorched hood.


“Hall Ass Everyone!” another woman’s voice sounding from outside, the office woman could only making out a dark brunet woman in a black jacket. “I’ve got to meet Special Agent Hobbs who’s on his way now.” through the crack between the door and doorframe. “He’s going to have a million questions.” telling from her tone she’s going to have to fake how much she knows.


The Office woman’s attention torn between what just happened, the oddly clad man drunkenly making his way about, a faint conversation about a blue box down the hallway from the woman who was going shoot her and the brunet, before they left.


The only other thing she made out was something about rendezvousing in some desert.


Now she was gazing upon a gelatin figure leaning partially out the driver side door.



ALTERNARE 

ROUTE

PART III


 “I’ve got to greet Special Agent Hobbs who’s on his way now.”  telling the woman was not all overly thrilled through the crack between the door and doorframe. “He’s going to have a million questions.” telling from her tone she’s going to have to fake how much she knows.


The Office woman’s attention torn between what just happened, the oddly clad man drunkenly making his way about, a faint conversation about a blue box down the hallway from the woman who was going shoot her and the brunet, before they left.

The only other thing she made out was something about rendezvousing in some desert


Attention drawn back upon the middle-aged goatee man wearing the woman’s clothing, he was still groaning, but appeared to have recovered a great deal?


The man appeared to be looking through the vehicle that had come flying through the window.


Head craning between the inside mirror and rear window, the man disregarding how his neck was sounding like dried spaghetti.


“Why is the rear window foggy?” his only words, leaving out the peculiar outline of a fried egg the size of a face.


Trying the door, the office woman could not say anything, now gazing upon a gelatin figure similar to those the cast from ‘Mythbuters’ would use when demonstrating effects of certain things upon the Human body; leaning partially out the driver side door, bouncing some.


The smell was atrocious, liken that to burnt Brussels Sprouts and hot tar. The spouts were the backwash taste when one swallowed or breathed.


“When the authorities come,"  groaning some using the car door to help him up with what was his injured arm.  "Or this Hobbs person" about to ask the woman if it was the same person he met during his First Incarnation at Quantico, picking something up with what was his injured arm.


“Tell them this man was dead," rubbing his arm more in sympothy than pain.  "before he hit the window.” the mysterious man now pausing at the door unseen by her while a magnitude of thoughts swarmed the woman’s mind.


Her co-worker having left to grab their lunch and see his fiancée; a woman comes in asking about a department she knows was not in this building; then changing into a man after the very woman shoves her clear of vehicle that was exploding in gold flame.


Another woman who was built like an MMA fighter seemingly torn between killing them both, before being called away by a woman in a ponytail, commenting about someone named Dhabi was all she made out due to distance.


Hearing the same peculiar noice prior to the woman's appearance.

 “Oh my GOD!” she blurts suddenly realizing the gelatin figure that had plopped from the car was wearing the same clothing as her co-work!


"...ial Agent Hobbs," the woman's eyes could not grow wide enough haring the poneytailed woman.  "Do  you need medical assistance?" eyes floating between the two of them, heart racing, mouth dry.


****


Within a contorl room with a hexagonal control console the goateed man returns to looking at the conole he was observing prior to arriving at his location in the other Incarnation.


"That's the Golden Age Ribbon," eyes falling upon the greenish-brown wake.  "Flashpoint Ribbon," eyes shifting towards the yellowish wake below.


"Together they would only shook the TARDIS, not thrown it off course like it had?" eyes narrowing, rubbing his now beared chin.


"Hope I'm not mistaken for the Master." the man stipulated, soon supporting himself  leaning nearler to the console.


Waving losely in the once injured arm was a torn sheet of paper he had picked up prior to departing.


On it read several names : The Duck, Han, Tom Cruise, Tom Petty, Carl Thascalos.  He was only concerned about one, as his new eyes fall upon another Temperal Wake that had a purplish appearance.


And why is he Cloister Bell... Sounding?