Until We Burn | Dr Who

Chapter Sixty-Nine: Playing God

TW// Idk what specifically to put. Just want to warn you that this will get dark... like, properly messed up. I'm not gonna shy away from how screwed up the Master can get.

—

I'm not sure how long Saxon keeps me locked up.

He treats it like a luxury. I am given a nice room, clothes and food. A shrine is set up so that I can pray.

I know better than to accept this as anything other than a prison. The door is locked at all times. Every day, my meals are brought to me by Tish. She doesn't dare to speak a word to me. For what I assume must be a few months, she is the only other person I see. We can only share a weak smile in passing. In and out. Then I am alone again.

Apart from him.

He visits every now and then with elaborate meals and promises. And every time, I look past him to the window — to the fires that constantly burn below the clouds.

I do exactly that tonight.

He sits opposite me at a table laden with food. Eyeing the way I push my food around the plate with a blunted fork, he smiles. "Let me guess... Capitis?"

I say nothing.

"You know how I can tell?" He takes a large bite of roast chicken, speaking through it, "It's the eyes. Not another anthropoid species with such striking eyes. Without them, you just look... well, 'human' is the word that comes to mind."

My fork clatters onto the plate, splashing gravy onto the white tablecloth. No matter how good the food smells or how much my stomach aches, I don't take a bite in his presence.

He is used to me doing this by now. This is why, on each visit before this, my other meals have stopped arriving. Until I am left to starve, waiting for Tish to arrive the next morning with breakfast. Even after a few instances of this, I haven't adjusted. I can hardly think about anything other than the warm scent rising from my plate. My mouth waters.

"What?" he asks innocently, sipping from his glass of wine. "Oh, right. I forgot. You're not a fan, are you? Heard about your planet, by the way. It's a real shame. But now I guess we can relate on a whole new level! Twinsies, am I right?"

Still, nothing. I won't play his game.

Leaning forwards on his elbows, he watches me closely. "Tell me, Inara, do you pray?" He waits but receives no answer. "Do you pray to your Gods every morning you wake and every night before you return to your nightmares?"

I follow his line of sight up to the security camera in the corner of the room. Even my sleep is monitored. I wonder how long it will be until he tries to take control over that, too.

He doesn't speak with any overt cruelty in his voice, just curiosity. It's all the same to me. "Do you ask them to free you and your friends? Do you bargain for the safety of Martha Jones and the success of her little mission around the globe?"

A long moment passes. My head spins with each inhalation of the savoury fumes.

"And tell me this, Inara. Do they answer you?"

Fury rises like heat to my face. "You know what?"

Chortling, he claps his hands together. "Finally, she speaks! Enlighten me."

"You try to talk a big game, act all powerful... but you're scared."

"And what makes you think that?"

I lean forwards, bracing myself against the table so that I don't lose my balance. "I've seen that look before, from plenty of people — mostly children. It's terror. Weakness."