Boredom. It was one of the few things in the Universe that made an enemy out of everybody—every being, every creature, every sentiment thing in existence. The Master was no exception to this cosmic rule. Being confined wasn’t exactly helping his situation, either. The Doctor was at least somewhat kind, though. If the circumstances were a bit different, the Master would just be one of his dammed Companions with the hexagonal-shaped room he had—Expansive, a bookshelf, bed, two plush chairs surrounding a table… Quite lovely, for a prison.

Gods, was it a Prison. He was in his moment of triumph, when everything was reversed—quite literally, as the events cumulated in time rewinding to before his reign truly began. The Doctor had handcuffed him and led him into the TARDIS, dropping him into a room far, far away from anything where he could do anything.

The Master sighed from his position on his bed, picking up a small paddle game. This was Martha’s little gift to him, the sniveling little brat. He ran his fingers along the elastic string, connecting a small red ball to the paddle itself, before taking a grip on the handle. A moment’s pause, a sneer, and he flicked his wrist.

One…two…three…

tags: imprisonment, little_blue_box