The Master Calls

Chapter 1

"You did this to me!" he shouted, as he shot his life force energy at Rassilon, causing him stumble back. "All of my life," he ground out as he lifted his other hand to shoot another blast. "You made me!"

His anger at Rassilon burst forth like an erupting volcano. They had made him this way. All his life, the constant sound of drums beating away in his head, slowly turning him mad. No relief. No escape. Well, there would be no escape for either of them now. He was going to blast that bastard right back into Hell.

"One!" he lifted his hand in tandem with the other.

"Two!" Rassilon was weakening, unable, to fight back or defend himself.

"Three!" Rassilon fell to his knees, clutching at his staff for support, agony written all over his face, his mouth wide open. Probably screaming from the pain, but nothing could really be heard over the din of Gallifrey getting sucked back into the Time Lock.

"Four!" he shouted louder and stronger. There was a blinding white light and he felt himself being sucked in, the noise deafening. And for once, there was silence in his head.

He felt himself hurtling through time and space, completely blind and deaf. He felt boneless, yet heavy at the same time. He should be worried. But all he could do was close his eyes and revel in the beautiful peacefulness of his mind. No more drums. He could think with clarity now. But all he could think about was how tired he was and how gladly he would welcome true death. He stopped struggling and flung out his limbs, his eyes closed and his head tilted back. This was it.

He felt a warmth envelope him and he quirked open an eye to see what was happening. Golden light surrounded him, blinding him, halting his tumultuous freefall into the unknown. Time seemed to shimmer and freeze. He stretched out his hand, the warmth prickling his skin, a comforting reassurance.

And then the light exploded around him and he felt himself being flung far and wide. He cried out and noted that he could hear again, though that was little reassurance.

He landed hard, face first, and he groaned at the impact. He lay there dazed, his whole body aching from the impact. He opened his eyes slowly. He was in some sort of room. A dark room. He slowly pushed himself up and looked around. It was empty, devoid of any furnishings. He turned around and saw a window making up the back wall. It was night out, so it did explain the darkness. He walked to the widow, looking down at the lights of traffic and office buildings, a few windows illuminated by light as some poor sod worked late. He was high up. Probably about twenty storeys. A large shadow passed over and he craned his neck to get a better look. He froze when he spotted the Zeppelin slowly floating overhead.

He looked back at the view and now noticed the numerous Zeppelins dotting the horizon. Where the hell was he?

A blinding light caused him to shrink back, squinting as he tried to find the source. His eyes quickly adjusted to the light and he saw a striking blonde, dressed all in black, standing in the doorway. And she had her rather impressive gun pointed right at him.

"How the hell did you get in here?" she demanded.