Until We Burn | Dr Who

Chapter One Hundred and Eleven: Wanting Everything

I struggle desperately against my ties. Like Wilf, I have been bound to a chair by my ankles and chest, more rope securing my wrists together in front of me. They chafe my skin with every movement.

Watching helplessly as the Doctor is strapped to a padded frame. The black fabric digs into his forehead, forcing him to remain still. "Please," he begs. "Please, you don't have to—"

"And that's quite enough of that." The Master pulls one final strap across, covering his mouth.

I kick against the chair but fail to do any damage with my ankles roped so tightly to it. "Get away from him. I swear to Gods, if you even touch him, I will end you."

The threat only brightens his grin. He coos, "That I'd like to see. If you want to kill me, there's a whole planet to get through. Who knows, maybe we can set up a little ring. We already know you're a great source of entertainment."

"You leave her alone!" Wilf snaps.

My chair shakes with another aggressive attempt to get free. Unsuccessful yet again, I dare to form a smirk, hoping to provoke him. "Try me. I'd take you down in seconds and you know it. I bet you're still afraid of me. I bet you already know these ropes won't hold me forever, and when I get out, I will kill you."

"Of course," he muses, appearing unbothered, "that is unless I kill you first. I could do it right now."

This time, the Doctor strains against his bonds. The gag muffles his pleading.

Chuckling, his old friend leans in, putting on a high-pitched voice, "Oh, no, not my wife! Anyone but my wife!" He pretends to think it over. "Well, there aren't many other options, are there, Doc? Don't act so surprised. Of course I know about it, UNIT really should have better security for their files. Although, honestly, I'll admit, I am a little wounded you didn't invite me to the wedding."

The Doctor tries to speak again but nothing comes through his gag, just a series of agitated sounds. Jabbing a thumb in his direction, the Master beams at me. "These things are brilliant! Can't understand a word." He then leans towards him and declares in a stage whisper, "You know, I would've given her one, too — aww, you could match! Wouldn't that be adorable? — but, you see... I just can't wait to see your face when I make her scream for mercy."

More shouts only amuse him further and he laughs, "See? Just doesn't sound right. As your dearest friend, I only want you to have the fullest, most genuine experience of it. I mean, unlike you, she only gets to die once."

Seeing him approach me again, I struggle, turning my head away. He brushes some hair out of my face. Drawing up my remaining strength, I spit in his face. "Don't touch me."

But my voice breaks, betraying me. Wiping his cheek, he sighs. "Still as fiery as ever." His voice drops to a quiet, disturbingly soft taunt, "Tell me, Inara, are you still afraid of the dark?"

I can't come up with a witty response this time. Fear grips me at his proximity and I try to turn away again. Without warning, he roughly grabs my face, forcing me to look at him. Gasping, I try to pull free. "P-Please."

He doesn't need to ask what I mean, or goad me further. The moment of weakness is enough for him. Rubbing his hands together, he paces back across the room. "Now, then. I've got a planet to run. Is everybody ready?"

A screen pops up on the wall with one of his many duplicates. "Six billion, seven hundred and twenty-seven million, nine hundred and forty-nine thousand, three hundred and thirty-eight versions of us awaiting orders."

"This is Washington. As President of the United States, I can transfer all the United Nations protocols to you immediately, putting you in charge of all the Earth's defences."