Subj: The Diary Of Victor North Pt.9
Date: 5/1/99 8:58:19 AM Central Daylight Time
From: marcos1

Authors note: In some previous fan fiction, I introduced a character called The Doctor. He isn't part of the Doctor Who universe, but a creation of mine. He is 5' 4," with long white hair, purple colored eyes. He is from another alternative universe. In his travels, he met Julia Hoffman, they fell in love, and then decided to go on a very long road trip.

~~~

The East End of London April 2, 1888

Julia and the Doctor walked down the dark ally. There was a heavy fog. It seemed like thick white clouds had dropped to ground level. Julia fingered the hypodermic syringe in her handbag. She was very nervous, sure that this was the right thing to do, but wondered if it would truly be possible, to change time.

The Doctor put his hand on her shoulder. “Julia, if my calculations are correct. He should be coming soon.” His purple eyes glowed with fond affection for his beloved. He knew how important this was to her.

Several streetwalkers, walked past them, eyeing the Doctor curiously “Would ay like some company-luv?” A redheaded lady said, she was dressed in a plain dress with a Georgette scarf around her neck, it was covered with rose blooms—red, green and cream colored.

“No, thanks,” the Doctor replied. “This fog is so thick. It's dangerous out here. It would be a good idea for you, ladies to go home.” He reached into his breast pocket pulling out a pocket watch. “It's getting quite late.”

“A girls gotta make a living luv,” a blond streetwalker said. “Are you sure that your lady and you don't want to have a little fun?”

“No get out of here,” the Doctor shouted. “There is danger here.” The short man raised his fists. “I don't mean to be rude...but get out.”

“There ain’t no need to shout,” the redheaded lady said. “We know where we ain’t wanted.” The two streetwalkers walked in the fog and disappeared.

“Dave Woodard was my best friend in medical school,” Julia said, “but yet I was responsible for his death. I loved Barnabas...but still that wasn't a good excuse.”

The Doctor pulled his dark chesterfield coat closer to him. There was a chill in the air. “This will make a difference, Julia. You will be killing, a killer. Perhaps in a small way, this will make-up for your past mistakes.”

“I hope so,” Julia said. “The solution in the needle, will make his death appear to be a normal heart attack.” She looked in the vacant ally. “Where is he? He should be here by now.”

A bright light suddenly appeared in the night sky, cutting through the fog like a knife. A romantic melody filled the air, sounding flat like an ancient gramophone. A man appeared with mutton type sideburns. He was sitting in a rocking chair, rocking back and forth. He had beautiful eyes, the color of the most azure sky in springtime.

“Quentin!” Julia exclaimed. “How...”

“I am not the Quentin that you knew,” he said, quietly, “but yet I am.” He sipped on a glass of brandy. “I come from a future time, where I serve as a sort of policeman.”

“What do you want?” The Doctor asked. “He had a bad feeling about this, like a child caught with his hands in a cookie jar.

“Changing time is not allowed,” Quentin said. Julia walked over to him, but passed right through him. He seemed to be a hologram of some sort. “I know why you are here, to stop the one known as Jack The Ripper. This is a noble goal, but isn't allowed. Time is a tapestry spun with a very delicate weave. One kindness, can create many unknown cruelties. Things must be allowed to proceed as before.”

“Gee whillikins,” The Doctor said, “what harm could there be in this? Julia needs this. It will lighten the load of guilt from a past action. She needs this for her soul.”

“I understand, guilt,” Quentin said. He scratched his forehead. “There is another universe, where things are different. They could use your help.”

“Fine,” The Doctor said, “let us go there. Someplace where we can make a difference.”

“Do you believe in fairy tales?” Quentin asked laughing. There was a burst of brilliant light and everyone vanished.

In the alleyway, a man walked towards the redheaded streetwalker. He was holding a knife.

~~~

There was steam on the windows. Maggie Evans was cooking potatoes. She was lonely, wondering when her wish would be granted. She believed in that special tree. It was magical.

“Maggie,” Sam called. “I'm hungry. Those potatoes smell delicious.” He sat in a high back chair, noticing how acute his sense of smell had become, since he'd lost his sight. That witch had cursed him and changed his world. He knew that his daughter was beautiful, but he feared losing her. Who else would take care of him? And he didn't want to be put into some kind of home. The kingdom of Victor North, was a safe place, but there was very little kindness shown to people that lacked anything. Be strong or die, seemed to be the canon.

Suddenly his repose was broken, someone was knocking on the door. Who could it be? There were very few travelers in these wood.

“I’ll get it,” Maggie said, running to the front door. This must be her true love. Her wish had been granted. She opened the door to see a short man, white hair, purple-eyes, with a redheaded lady—with fine cheekbones. “Yes, can I help you?” she asked.

“But that is our question,” The Doctor laughed, “how can my Julia and I, help you?”

To be continued—