THRILL OF THE CHASE

chap. 1

The Doctor ran. A run that was so very distinct from her quick escape from the jaws of an alien beast or her heroic leave after clutching the hand of her companions and snatching them away from their deaths. Today she willingly ran, a planned out event by her and the one person she could ever maintain such a complex relation with. She found herself around the dimly lit corner and skidded to a halt at the dead end. The Doctor turned on her heels and went further into the absolute labyrinth that was the corridors of her TARDIS.

This was a common game these two took part in. Throughout time and space a constant power struggle between the last two Gallifreyans alive. Something that evolved into this game between the two of them. The Doctor being willing prey and The Master relishing in the role of the predator.

Soon enough it extended into the TARDIS consciousness, the very being of the machine joining along in the play of cat and mouse. Even now it was toying with The Doctor, tapping into her psyche and changing the long known web of the extensive hallways and passages. It's existence outside of time made seconds feel like hours and hours feel like days, not even The Doctor knew how long she had been running. The TARDIS groaned and whined along with her every step, fueling the feeling of dread and constant pressing paranoia. Soon enough, she was trapped. The TARDIS and The Master had worked in an almost perfect conjunction to stop her just as fatigue began to muddle her thoughts and dull the sharp edge of her wit. The Doctor felt the corridors spin as dizziness hit her like a tide.

Her blood ran cold when she heard the soft click of Missy's boot heel on the corridor floor. She had been caught. The rhythmic beating of her two hearts pounding against her skull as a clear image of The Mistress herself laughing something sinister in her mind. A feeling of nausea washed over The Doctor, her head spun and she could feel her body protest standing every passing second. Her eyelids felt like lead weights, and as she slipped into unconsciousness, she saw two perfectly polished boots framed by a clean pressed wool skirt step into view.