Clara And The 12th Doctor Novels & Stories

One of the footnotes stops her. Clara comes home for Christmas in the year she is twenty-eight with three things: a draft of her doctoral thesis introduction that her supervisor called the clearest theoretical opening she has read in the field; a question she has been thinking about since October; and the quality of someone who has been living with an argument long enough to see where the argument wants to go next.

“But you have to be prepared. They are going to fix it so that you –” Gruff voices sounded from the stairwell. “I have to go,” Clara said at once, fear in her eyes. “But –” “I’m sorry. Good luck!” she dimmed her own torch and scurried out of view, just as the soldiers came into the hallway. “Get up, little surrogate. It’s time for you to face the King.”

When my shift ended, I immediately fixed my table then knocked on the sliding door of Doc's clinic and opened it. He was busy with his laptop when I entered. Maybe he's doing something important so he's focused on that. "Doc, I'll go first. Thank you!" I said when I went outside his clinic. I didn't wait for him to speak because until now I was confused and I still couldn't catch his mood or attitude. When I got home Cyrille was supposed to greet me right away but I didn't let her come to me because I had to clean my body first before I hugged her. I wasn't able to clean my body before I left because Doc Emman took over my mind.

He let out a mild smile that didn't stretch a single muscle around his mouth, and turned on his heel and left the room, closing the transparent glass door behind him. Clara stretched to ensure the medical personnel were out of sight before turning to cough a word to Naomi. “What was the meaning of that? And why did the Doctor address me as Miss Carmen?” “Shhhh… even with your condition, you still lack brains.” She fired a shot that reached Naomi's core. “You're pissed? Why? Chill, don't upset the bandages on your face. They may fall off and expose your little secret.” Clara fired on. Naomi gasped, taking in the brain behind her name change effected by Clara.

Eventually, she clenched her teeth and made up her mind. She made up her mind to commit suicide!!! Clara would rather die than become a zombie. Subsequently, Clara raised her palms and summoned all her strength. She gave out a purple aura that indicated she was a Grade S Genetic Fighter. Just when her palms which were engulfed with her purple aura were about to strike her own heart, a strong and powerful hand stopped her. Clara was caught by surprise, and she looked up at Lucas. "You…!" Lucas did not answer her. Instead, he gently tapped Clara on the back of her head with his hand, and Clara passed out.

Not sure if he was happy about that or not. ‘Hi,’ Clara said, peeking out from behind Sebastian after hopefully wiping out the lipstick off her face. ‘I’m Clara, oh you know that already. I’m leaving Sunday night, sir. I’m sorry for distracting your son. I know there’s a lot of responsibility sitting on his shoulders right now, and I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.’ She blushes as she walks to John and offers her hand.

Selene demanded, her voice rising with panic. Clara's eyes gleamed with an unusual light, and when she spoke, her voice was bound with power. “I've seen the truth, Selene. The crystal… the storm… they’re all part of a greater plan. A plan that will bring about a new world. And I intend to be the one to guide it.” Ethan’s blood ran cold as the realization hit him. Clara wasn’t the same person they had known. The crystal, the energy, it had changed her, twisted her mind.

Clara hesitated then her expression darkened with a resolve I hadn’t seen in years. “We run. But first…” She reached into her jacket and pulled out a small, blood-smeared flash drive. “You need to see something. Proof that Dahlia never expected you to survive the rebirth. She had already chosen your replacement.” “Replacement?” My voice cracked. Clara nodded slowly. “It was supposed to be me.” My heart lurched. Before I could speak, a loud crack echoed above us metal on metal, harsh and echoing. Footsteps. Heavy. Fast. Too many.

"I remember, on this thick snow, I made a snowman named Olaf and went skiing..." But Clara's smile faded as she saw the woman who had been her roommate at the inn the night before. Her demeanor seemed strange, but Clara still smiled and greeted her. "Hi..." Unfortunately, her greeting was met with coldness. Lara's expression turned sour, "So arrogant! Who is she really?" From behind her sunglasses, Clara watched the woman get into a silver grid car, as if avoiding something. Clara was curious. "Hey, been waiting long?" Clara was startled when someone patted her shoulder. She turned to see a familiar face. "Dr. Joe!"

I held her tighter than I should have, as if squeezing hard enough could keep her soul tethered to this world. Clara flew. Fast. Reckless. And for once, I didn’t yell. Because the stars were wrong. They blinked like eyes now. Twelve of them. Clara didn’t speak until we broke Earth’s gravity field and connected to our cloaked ground base buried beneath the Icelandic ashline. She turned in her seat, face pale, voice sharp. “Ivy.” I nodded. “I saw them.” “Twelve. Same broadcast frequency. Same neural wave signature. All activated simultaneously.”