Born at the end of the 51st century at the Boeshane peninsula I grew up together with my younger brother Gray and our parents. I spent a very normal childhood until our peninsula was attacked by aliens. My father Franklin died in the attack. I had to watch Gray and bring him to safety, but in the hustle and bustle of the escape his hand slipped from mine. I learned much later that the aliens had captured and tortured him. They found him finally chained between dead bodies. For years I looked for him, but without success. As a young man, I left my mother and joined the war against the beasts that had invaded my home. I persuaded a friend to do so, too, something I should regret bitterly. They captured us and because I was stronger than my friend, they tortured and killed him while I had to watch.
A little later the time agency recruited me, as the first representative of the Boeshane peninsula. I worked with John Hart and... Well, we got closer. My goodness, we even spent five years in a two-week time loop! It was an adventure, a beautiful time, until these bastards stole two years of my life. The whole memory, simply wiped out! From then on I worked on my own account, sold completely worthless waste of space to the highest bidding time agents and destroyed the corresponding goods before the hoax was uncovered. I had my vortex manipulator, so I could travel through time. Everything was fine, until... something went wrong. In 1941, London, right in the middle of the German Blitz. A piece of space junk turned out not to be so worthless and suddenly gas mask zombies were walking around everywhere, crying out for their mommy. On that occasion I met the Doctor and Rose Tyler, and together we saved the day. I started to travel with them, although not very long. In the year 200.100, we encountered the game station with a Dalek fleet and what can I say: Exterminate! Exactly, I died. For the first time and doesn't the saying go: The first time is special? Rose Tyler brought me back to life with the cumulative power of the time vortex and since then I am the man who cannot die. The Doctor and Rose left me on board the satellite; as I later learned, because I might not even exist. Great, isn't it?
With the help of the vortex manipulator I landed on Earth in 1869; in Cardiff. There was this rift in time and space, where the TARDIS had to refuel sooner or later. So I waited there; I didn't have much choice since my vortex manipulator was burnt out. I took odd jobs, sometimes a showman, sometimes a soldier, but always waiting for the doctor, so that he would explain to me what was going on with me. I was stabbed, shot, knocked off a cliff and trampled by horses, starved and pierced by a spear. But I returned to life again and again. Around 1900, Torchwood became aware of my 'little specificity' and captured me. They wanted me to get to the Doctor and they let me go but under the premise that I did jobs for them. And what can I say, I was young - well, not quite so young - and needed the money. Over a hundred years I worked for Torchwood III - punctuated by some escapades which are impossible all to describe - and in 1970 I had a relationship with my colleague Lucia Moretti, from which emerged a daughter; Melissa. She got a new identity because her mother was scared of me. She had a point with it; I've done terrible things. Children sacrificed, people killed. Nevertheless, it hurt to see my own child no longer. I didn't even know whether she was also immortal; as yet I had not met the doctor.
Shortly before the turn of the Millennium, the Torchwood member Alex Hopkins had killed the entire crew of Torchwood III after a nervous breakdown. I was the only one left and so I began to recruit new members: Ianto Jones, Owen Harper and Toshiko Sato. Gwen Cooper found later and more or less randomly to us. We made it our mission is to prepare humanity for the 21st century; an admittedly ambitious goal. And still, I believed the doctor could help me. I kept his hand, which he had lost in a sword fight at lofty heights and used it as a kind of detector. But only when he landed with Martha Jones in Cardiff, I saw him again and followed him immediately to the end of the universe. The TARDIS probably don't like me. We stopped the Master, who wanted to subjugate the Earth with flying metal balls. But except for a few people no one remembers anymore, because the doctor has turned back the clock. I knew now why I didn't die and returned to the Torchwood Institute. Just because the people there were counting on me. And of course due to Ianto. He was something special. Less than a year later John appeared suddenly again and kidnapped me to the year 27 A.D. My brother was waiting for me, but it was not just the joyous family reunion I had hoped for. No, he wanted revenge for all tortures he had suffered. He had me buried alive, Cardiff was built on my grave. Every few minutes I suffocated with soil in my mouth, only to wake up and choke all over again. It must have been a million deaths. But I don't hate my brother for this. It was my redemption; not only because I had let go of his hand as a child, but for all the things I had done. Only in 1901, Torchwood found and freed me, but now there were two versions of me. A dangerous paradox, if I accidentally bumped into myself. So I let myself get cryogenically frozen and woke up in 2008, shortly after my abduction to the past.
The next great danger to planet earth was the arrival of the mysterious 456; and it was a reawakening of my personal nightmare. Decades ago, I had already delivered a bus load of children to the aliens, but now they demanded more. Much more. Ten percent of humanity's offspring or the 456 would wreak havoc. The government actually went along with that demand and Torchwood was destroyed by a bomb in my stomach. Not very pleasant, I can tell you. But still a piece of cake compared to what was yet to come. The whole world went into chaos, people fleeing, trying to protect their children from deportation. And although we tried and finally found a way to stop the 456, we paid a high price. Ianto died and I had to kill my own grandson. Melissa will probably never forgive me and I can't really blame her. But someone has to make the tough decisions and considering the things I've already on my conscience, it really can't get much worse.
Torchwood III was basically in ruins after that, most of its members dead, a few – like Gwen – lucky enough to seemingly have moved on. And I really had to get away from this mess. So I took my vortex manipulator and ran, all through time and space. Well, mostly space. I drank and flirted and gambled and danced, always trying to hide the pain over the losses I had experienced. Until the day the world stopped dying. Sounds like paradise? Well, take it from someone who had been buried alive for nearly 2000 years: It ain't. And, of course, it was sort of my fault again, although I couldn't really grasp the mechanisms that led to the so-called Miracle Day. We fixed it and that was about six years ago. Many things happened in these years. The Doctor never showed again and I'm afraid he's not coming back. Whether it's because he can't or he won't, who knows? Torchwood is spanning the globe and yet it seems we are weaker than ever before, because there's a new kid in town: The Forge. Meddling with alien tech they are a scary bunch of lunatics and we can only keep them in check, if we work together. So I decided to return to Cardiff and recruit a new team to build up Torchwood III all over again.