The Master's Game (Doctor Who)

Of tricks and fear

Finally the Master moved, looking down at the lifeless body, carefully grabbing her shoulders and pushing her away from him a bit. No reaction.

"Tch... you're just fooling me." His voice was angry. He shook her. "I don't let you win this, you hear me?"

After a while of angrily staring at Roka he carefully lay her down to the ground.

"I... don't get it... Laughing at death like that?! It makes no sense." Confused he shook his head. "None at all..." He stared at her for another few seconds.

Then he noticed that something was weird. Like a shadow in the corner of his perception, a slight pull in his stomach, similar to adrenalin, but almost painful. An almost tangible electric crackling filled the air. A snapping of... something was tearing apart... What a weird sensation. Did he imagine it?

"Ah, what a waste." His voice got toneless. "It was fun... this little game..." He blinked a few times. Had the drums gotten louder too? "Now it'll be boring again. Poor Doctor will cry about you. He will be very... very angry that I killed one of his pets. That's something at least..." Some moments passed and really, they got louder. And louder.

His hands moved towards his head. He shook it and squinted his eyes... Why now? He had to focus on this other thing. This ripping and tearing in the air. Never before had he felt anything like it, and it was a foreboding sensation. As if something was falling apart, tearing at the very fabric of reality. And its origin seemed to be the dead girl.

"Ugh... Bloody drums. keep quiet. Why can't they just... stop. This is your fault!" He threw an angry gaze at Roka. The air around her was slightly distorted, or did he imagine it? It was so hard to focus on anything.

The crackling got more intense, making the air vibrating slightly. At the same time the drums got overwhelmingly loud. The world vanished, drowned, and all that was left was this rhythm, always, always, always repeating. Always... calling. And now accompanied by whatever got ripped open around him.

Something hit his chest.

The Master opened his eyes, the gaze very slowly returning from the brink of insanity. The air stood still again. Gone was the weird crackling and ripping, and there was a fist at his chest. As he followed the arm, still slightly puzzled, he stared into the girl's opened eyes.

"Hey, don't you dare crying over me." It was supposed to sound sarcastic, but Roka could barely get the words out. Her limbs felt numb and it seemed as if her eyes weren't working properly. She had heard his mumblings though, but hadn't been able to react until now. Life came back into her body, but very, very slowly and it felt as if every muscle and every nerve was on fire. She was barely conscious.

His hands fell down, his eyes showing nothing more than utter confusion.

"What? You're dead!" He stared down to her, then suddenly started to laugh. "I went insane at last, right? That had to happen eventually." He shook his head. "You can bare those drums only for so long..."

The drums seemed to bother him really a lot, but since she had heard them herself for a short moment - even if it was just an echo - she could imagine someone going mad from having those inside one's mind at every moment. "Not more than usually." She stuck out her tongue and gave him a sarcastic smirk. "You really should check for remaining life signs before declaring someone as dead." Trying to get up she felt her whole body rebelling against every movement. "Ugh... it still hurts like hell. Look what you've done, you mad old idiot. I'm not dead... At least I really hope so..."

Slowly the Master seemed to come to the conclusion that he had retained some of his sanity - for now. A confident grin spread on his face. "Ha! So you are afraid."