DOCTOR WHO? : THE SHADOWBORN HEIR

Jake Foreman stood over a shivering soldier as Commander Rask shoved him forward. “Fix him,” Rask snarled. “Or I swear I’ll toss you out with the corpses.”

Jake’s hands trembled. “Commander, I—I just arrived. I don’t even know what he’s infected with.”

“You’re the healer they dumped on me,” Rask snapped. “Figure it out.”

The soldier on the cot convulsed, eyes rolling back. Veins bulged beneath his skin, dark and pulsing like something alive inside him.

Jake swallowed. Hard. “This isn’t a normal plague,” he murmured.

Rask’s fist hit the metal table with a crack. “Then use that pretty schooling the capital gave you. Before he blows.”

Jake opened his mouth to respond, but froze instead. Because suddenly, something shifted. The world around him… dipped. Bent. Darkened.

Threads of dim silver light crawled beneath the soldier’s skin, glowing faintly like veins made of moonlight.

And wrapped around those veins were twisting shapes, shadows, almost like snakes, tightening, suffocating, choking him from the inside. Jake blinked rapidly. No. No, no, no. Not again. Not here.

He stumbled back, breath shaking. “I… I can’t… this isn’t… normal vision.”

Rask tilted his head. “The hell are you babbling about?”

“I’m seeing” Jake cut himself off. If he said life threads, if he said shadow coils strangling a man’s heart, they’d burn him at the stake. “Never mind.”

The soldier screamed. Jake flinched. “He needs immediate extraction of”

“Extraction? Of what?”

Jake pointed weakly. “That.”

Rask followed his gaze… stared at empty air… then glared at Jake. “There’s nothing there, you lunatic.”

Jake’s heart thudded painfully. He squeezed his eyes shut, reopened them. The threads were still there. The shadows were still writhing.

And one of them lifted its head, a snake-shaped smear of darkness, and turned toward Jake as if aware of him. Jake’s breath caught. The world narrowed. “Heir…” the shadow hissed in a voice no one else heard.

Jake staggered back so hard he hit the wall. Rask grabbed him by the collar. “What are you seeing?” “I—I don’t know!”

The soldier convulsed again, harder. Blood sprayed the sheets. Jake’s pulse spiked. “Let me work!”

“You’d better,” Rask growled, releasing him, “or you’ll join him.”

Jake forced his shaking hands to steady. “Hold him still.”

Rask pinned the soldier by the shoulders. Jake leaned over the writhing man, lowered his voice. “If you can hear me, I’m going to help you. I hope.”

He pressed two fingers to the soldier’s chest. Instantly, the shadows around the life threads snarled. Jake gasped.

A cold wave washed over him, dragging him deeper, pulling him into an impossible layer of existence where light and shadow clashed beneath the skin. “Stop,” he whispered desperately. “Please stop…”

The shadows hissed louder. Jake’s vision blurred, sharpening into something unnatural. He could see every infected thread, every twisting knot of corruption. Instinct, not training, but something older, guided him.

His hand moved on its own. His fingers sliced through the air, drawing a pattern he did not know he knew. Silk-thin strands of shadow peeled away from the soldier’s veins, writhing like worms torn from meat.

The soldier let out a strangled gasp, relief. Rask’s eyes widened. “What… did you just do?”

Jake ignored him. He focused, dragging every last shadow coil out of the man's chest until they sputtered, dissolved, and vanished into the air like ash in water.

The soldier collapsed, breathing evenly. Alive. Jake sagged with him. Rask just stared. “That wasn’t medicine.”

Jake’s voice cracked. “I don’t know what it was.”

Rask stepped closer, studying him too intently. “Foreman… your eyes. They’re glowing.”

Jake jerked back. “They are not”

“Yes,” Rask said slowly, “they damn well are.”

Jake slapped a hand to his face, heart in his throat. His fingers shook uncontrollably. He backed away, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to, I don’t know what I did”

“You used something,” Rask said darkly. “Something dangerous.”

Jake bristled. “I saved your soldier.”

“And I’m wondering what it’ll cost.”

“It cost nothing,” Jake snapped, too fast. Too defensive.

Rask narrowed his eyes. “I hear rumors about people like you. Cursed types. Touched types.”

Jake’s blood iced. “Don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t call me that.”

Rask didn’t stop. “People who see ghosts in blood. People who twist sickness with their hands. People who shouldn’t exist.”

Jake felt the walls closing in.

Rask grabbed his shoulder, hard. “Foreman. What exactly are you?”

Jake shook him off. “I don’t know!”

Lightning cracked across the windows. The door slammed open. A soldier rushed in, breathless. “Commander! Another one, the plague, he’s,  he’s tearing his own skin off!”

Rask cursed under his breath. “Damn it.”

Jake stepped forward automatically. “I’ll help.”

Rask thrust a finger into his chest. “No. You’re staying here.”

Jake blinked. “What? Why?!”

“You’re unstable,” Rask snapped. “Whatever you did might kill the next man.”

Jake’s jaw tightened. “You need me.”

“I need someone sane.”

Jake felt the sting like a blade. Rask shoved past him, storming out. The door slammed behind him. Jake stood alone in the wrecked infirmary.

Rain hammered the roof harder. Shadows coiled faintly at his fingertips, whispering things that made his skin crawl. Heir… you cannot hide…

He backed away. “Stop. Just stop…”

His breath trembled. His hands shook violently. He leaned over the cot, staring at the soldier he’d saved. “What… am I?”

But he already knew the answer the shadows wanted him to hear. Shadowborn. The word shivered through his bones. No. Impossible. They were extinct. Slaughtered. Erased from history.

He pressed his hands over his ears, as if he could block out the truth. “I’m not. I can’t be.”

A soft voice whispered behind him: “You are.”

Jake spun so fast he nearly fell. A woman stood in the doorway. Pale eyes. Hooded coat soaked from rain. A face he didn’t recognize, calm, unreadable, watching him like a scientist studying a specimen.

Jake’s throat went dry. “Who are you?”

The woman stepped inside, boots echoing on the metal floor. “You’re the reason the borderlands are stirring.”

Jake swallowed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

She smiled faintly. “That’s the problem.”

He backed up. “Stay away from me.”

“You’re awakening, Jake Foreman.”

She stopped just a step away, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper. “And the capital wants you dead before you understand why.”

Jake stiffened. “What… why would”

The woman lifted one gloved hand and pointed at the still-flickering shadows clinging to his fingertips. “Because that,” she said softly, “proves you’re not what they think you are.”

He heard thunder crack. Felt the air tighten. Jake’s voice trembled. “What am I?”

The woman leaned in. “A miracle,” she whispered.

“And a threat.”

She turned to leave. Jake staggered after her. “Wait! Tell me”

She paused at the doorway. Rain framed her silhouette like a curtain of knives. “Learn fast, Shadowborn,” she said. “Or you will die slow.”

Then she vanished into the storm. Jake stood frozen, rain sounds pounding the quiet, shadows curling around his wrists like fearful animals seeking shelter.

And for the first time in his life, He was terrified of himself.