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The Lightning Bolt
The nightmares were getting unbearable. All Alex could see every time he closed his eyes were the lumbering shapes of the people his father had mercilessly killed. Some were on fire, the flames licking at their charred skin; some with gaping holes in their chests; and there was a child clutching a soft toy of a Minion and crying for his mother. Every time, he woke up drenched in sweat and panting; no way could he shout for his father, since he would be far from sympathetic. He just had to keep it to himself. Today, he decided he should decide where they stopped off in the TARDIS, and he punched in the co-ordinates to the Eiffel Tower in Paris, France; somewhere he'd wanted to go to since his interest in France and the French had started. His father wouldn't be impressed, but it was better than going somewhere where he was most definitely going to kill people.
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