The Master's Game (Doctor Who)

Traces of ink

"I think... I'm dying," Roka moaned.

She lay on the floor all limbs stretched out, not able to move an inch.

"For once it wasn't me," the Master remarked sarcastically from his desk.

"Oof..." She nudged the empty pizza box further away. At least he had kept word. Though it had felt surreal seeing a villain like him ordinarily ordering food and she had to try really hard not to laugh. Although she still felt a lot more like punching him for the thing with the gun.

And now he was so bold to just sit there... and to read a book. Casually. What a weird guy, she thought. But even someone like him couldn't be destroying worlds all day. Sometimes even a villain had to be... normal? Roka grinned. He was probably reading something that would help finishing a weapon.

"Stop staring at me." He didn't even look up. "You're annoying."

"Was just wondering..." she mumbled.

"About what?" Lowering the book revealed puckered eyebrows.

"Let me guess..." Roka pointed a finger into the air. "'10 ways to destroy earth in a day'. Or... 'How to tame a human'."

He snorted. "What the heck are you talking about?"

"Your book."

"Who would write something idiotic like that?" The Master chuckled.

"Don't know..." She grinned and glanced towards him. "Someone like you."

He laughed. "No, if anything at all I'd write about... hmm..." For a moment he thought about it, forehead wrinkled. "'A guide to find the most tasty food in the universe'." He laughed at that thought and shook his head.

Roka giggled. That had been a bit unexpected. "I know what I'll write about as soon as I get out of here.... 'The ultimate guide to become a cliché villain.' ... Yep, I think that'll do. With that reference..." She stuck out her tongue at the Master.

"Oi, I'm not cliché!" he protested.

"You totally are! So far you are the ultimate prototype of a comic book villain." She counted her fingers up. "Chaotic, randomly cruel, fascinated by his own plans, wants to destroy earth for no reason, including the enslavement of humanity..."

"Don't forget, 'crushing your psyche when he's bored'." A mean grin spread on his face and he leaned back with folded hands.

"Good luck with that." Roka smiled. She'd been long gone before he would have the chance to do that.

Leaning onto his desk he stared at her for a moment, smirking slightly. "I'm more interested in the chapter 'How to deal with annoying hostages'." The Master stood up, came over and dropped his book on Roka's stomach.

"Oooow.... man! Ooof... don't do that..."

"There, read and shut up. It's too loud today anyway. Can't concentrate on it."

What was he talking about? Some of the devices around gave off a slight humming here and there, but apart from that the room was only filled with a heavy silence. She didn't get an answer to her questioning glance, so she picked up the book and looked at it surprised while sitting up. It was an old copy of Moby Dick.

"Oh... I read that as a child." She smiled and looked at the pages. "Nice... looks like a complete version. It's surprisingly hard to get by one."

"The only thing you humans are good at."

"Huh?"

"Literature." The Master waved a hand through the air as if to enclose this word into a bubble. "Most races don't write at all. Others only write facts. It's surprisingly rare to find actual stories."