Fic: Control
Time to post this fic. It's the last one I have to post that was in for my english Short Story portfolio. It's a Doctor Who fic, but disguised so that if you're not in the fandom, you may never be able to tell.
All I will say, is that it's AU, and has a spoiler for the end of 'Last of the Time Lords.' (As in, the Doctor's prisoner is in it.) However, the Doctor himself is not in this fic. It's a part of my TARDIS 100 table, under the prompt 'Control.' Also posted to my darling little comm., doctorwho_100.
It's rated PG to be safe.
Week 5: Compulsory 500 word exercise.
1. Two characters. One wants something (money, respect, sex, information, a lift home) the other does not want to give. Be sure to focus on the one desire.
Control
My prisoner sighed. "Look, I said I'm sorry. Will you let me out?"
"No," I replied simply.
"Why not?"
"You know why not."
He rolled his eyes, frustrated. "This has to do with revenge, doesn't it?" He tried to open my door again, but just like the other thirty-six times he tried, it remained stubbornly locked.
"Of course it has to do with revenge," I said, slightly annoyed. He was smart enough to predict my motivations.
He started to tap out a familiar rhythm on my door. "Are you ever going to let that go?"
I thought about it for a moment or two. "Probably not. If I do, it won't be for a very long time."
He closed his eyes wearily. He knew that when I said a long time, I meant it. "Could you at least give me a light in here?"
"Are you afraid of the dark?" I mocked.
"No, but being locked in a small closet with a light is better than being locked in a small closet without one." He was quiet for a few seconds, thoughts ticking away in his busy mind. "You almost sounded like me back there."
My first instinct was to deny it, but then I realized he was right. It would not be considered uncharacteristic for him to gleefully mock a helpless victim. However, I rarely mocked my companions. My prisoner was a different case though. Our relationship wasn't a loving one. In the past we've hurt each other more deeply than anyone else ever could. He didn't hesitate to mock me in my pain. I relished my chance to get revenge, rationalizing that I was allowed to mock him as much as I wanted. Give him a taste of his own medicine.
I noticed him trying to open my door, hoping I may have unlocked it accidentally during my momentary hesitation. He had no luck.
"It makes sense that I start to sound like you," I told him. "After all, we've spent more than a comfortable amount of time together. It is my prerogative to mock your pain. You've done the same to me and you'd do it again, given the chance."
He shrugged slightly, agreeing but also not wanting to admit it. He suddenly pounded a fist against my door. "You can't keep me in here forever!"
"It's only been three hours. That's nothing to you. Most of my other tortures lasted a lot longer before you snapped. Besides, it's not like you would have done anything with those three hours."
"It's still three hours trapped in a small, dark closet with nothing to do but talk to you," he hissed.
"You don't like our conversations?" I asked, mocking him again.
"I'd rather communicate with a deaf penguin than talk to you."
"Fine."
I was quiet for another hour, displaying my characteristic saintly patience. I felt my prisoner become slightly more insane.
Satisfied, I silently unlocked the door. It took him another half an hour to notice.
All I will say, is that it's AU, and has a spoiler for the end of 'Last of the Time Lords.' (As in, the Doctor's prisoner is in it.) However, the Doctor himself is not in this fic. It's a part of my TARDIS 100 table, under the prompt 'Control.' Also posted to my darling little comm., doctorwho_100.
It's rated PG to be safe.
Week 5: Compulsory 500 word exercise.
1. Two characters. One wants something (money, respect, sex, information, a lift home) the other does not want to give. Be sure to focus on the one desire.
Control
My prisoner sighed. "Look, I said I'm sorry. Will you let me out?"
"No," I replied simply.
"Why not?"
"You know why not."
He rolled his eyes, frustrated. "This has to do with revenge, doesn't it?" He tried to open my door again, but just like the other thirty-six times he tried, it remained stubbornly locked.
"Of course it has to do with revenge," I said, slightly annoyed. He was smart enough to predict my motivations.
He started to tap out a familiar rhythm on my door. "Are you ever going to let that go?"
I thought about it for a moment or two. "Probably not. If I do, it won't be for a very long time."
He closed his eyes wearily. He knew that when I said a long time, I meant it. "Could you at least give me a light in here?"
"Are you afraid of the dark?" I mocked.
"No, but being locked in a small closet with a light is better than being locked in a small closet without one." He was quiet for a few seconds, thoughts ticking away in his busy mind. "You almost sounded like me back there."
My first instinct was to deny it, but then I realized he was right. It would not be considered uncharacteristic for him to gleefully mock a helpless victim. However, I rarely mocked my companions. My prisoner was a different case though. Our relationship wasn't a loving one. In the past we've hurt each other more deeply than anyone else ever could. He didn't hesitate to mock me in my pain. I relished my chance to get revenge, rationalizing that I was allowed to mock him as much as I wanted. Give him a taste of his own medicine.
I noticed him trying to open my door, hoping I may have unlocked it accidentally during my momentary hesitation. He had no luck.
"It makes sense that I start to sound like you," I told him. "After all, we've spent more than a comfortable amount of time together. It is my prerogative to mock your pain. You've done the same to me and you'd do it again, given the chance."
He shrugged slightly, agreeing but also not wanting to admit it. He suddenly pounded a fist against my door. "You can't keep me in here forever!"
"It's only been three hours. That's nothing to you. Most of my other tortures lasted a lot longer before you snapped. Besides, it's not like you would have done anything with those three hours."
"It's still three hours trapped in a small, dark closet with nothing to do but talk to you," he hissed.
"You don't like our conversations?" I asked, mocking him again.
"I'd rather communicate with a deaf penguin than talk to you."
"Fine."
I was quiet for another hour, displaying my characteristic saintly patience. I felt my prisoner become slightly more insane.
Satisfied, I silently unlocked the door. It took him another half an hour to notice.