Soul's Shadow (Doctor Who - SI)

Part XIV (III)

"What're you looking at me for?" grumbled the Master, hand stuffed into his pockets. He was in an obviously bad mood for whatever reason.

"Haven't you heard them?" I asked. "It's said to have ghosts."

He rolled his eyes. "Every old place is said to have some."

I pursed my lips, kicking a small stone away. After a night at the inn we were all waiting outside the TARDIS while the Doctor had gone inside to snatch a few useful items for us. The leaking gas didn't seem to be too harmful for Time Lords. At least not during a short exposure. Donna had placed herself by the doors, waiting impatiently, while I tried to convince the Master to come along.

"The Doctor always insists that ghosts aren't real," I grumbled. "He'll be no fun."

"And what makes you think would make me so daft to believe in them? Haven't seen any, so far."

"Then's about time, isn't it?" I nudged him playfully. "What could you lose? And maybe you find a way to use the spirits of the dead to work for you."

The Master deigned to look at me with puckered brows. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Are you trying to play me, little one?"

I simply nodded and chuckled. "Yep."

At first, there was no reaction. The Master simply let his eyes wander over the shadows in the distance, before they landed on me. "You're bad at it. Don't just admit your intentions. That ruins the whole point."

"So... you're coming?"

"No." He poked a finger at my head. "Stop bugging me or I have to assume you'd miss me, otherwise." He shivered dramatically.

I let out a short laugh and taunted back, "Maybe I would." The deadly glare, however, made me add some more, before the Master could decide to avoid me again. "You were curious about the dragon, too. And it's psychic. So maybe we'll need your skills."

"Don't care."

"And there are ghosts."

The Master sighed loudly.

"Master of ghosts. You'd be the first to call yourself that."

"I'm master of everything," he said proudly, with a little smirk.

"I think you're just scared of them."

"They aren't real!" he said in a voice one would use to teach an especially dull child.

I crossed my arms and grinned impishly. "I get it. Seen enough horror movies, too. I know how creepy they are. You don't have to be embarrassed."

"I'm not... you know what? I'll prove to you that they are bullshit. Whatever is lurking there I'll dissect it in front of your eyes and then you can shut up about it."

"So, you comin'?" I asked with the widest grin.

The Master glared at me, realisation sinking in. But now there was no way for him to keep his dignity and get out of the situation at the same time. His face fell.

And suddenly there was rage clouding his eyes, devouring his mind, and a moment later his hand was around my throat, shoving me backwards until my back hit the TARDIS.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?!" screamed Donna. "Let her go!"

I struggled against his grip, not really scared, but surprised by the suddenness; by the pain of his fingers pressing against my bones, the lack of air that made me want to cough. He wouldn't hurt me, or would he? It never became easier to tell and with every second I barely could breathe I lost my ability for logic. So I lashed out, not with my body, but with my mind, pushed it against his and suddenly felt how I tumbled inside without a warning. We fell, without anything to hold us and with the sheer force of instinct. And somewhere in all this chaos I slammed against a kind of wall and let out a tiny scream as a roaring noise filled my head, so loud, so all encompassing and suppressing that my head would burst any second. And I knew those were the drums he was hearing for all of his life. I knew it and still was unable to understand, because the constant rhythm left no room for thoughts, left no room for fear, left me with nothing but instinctive rage and the urge to fight them back, to push them away, to drown them out, to do anything, anything, anything, just so it would go away.