Professor Keller: chapter 9
Feb. 22nd, 2016 03:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scripsiTitle: Professor Keller
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: Teen
Genre: Horror
Word Count: 2042
Chapter: 9/12
Characters: Delgado!Master, Original female character, Original male character, the Third Doctor, Sarah Jane Smith, the Brigadier
Pairings: The Master/OFC, the Master/OMC, OFC/OMC
Warnings: For this chapter; suicide attempt, brief violence.
Summary: Alison and Peter Grey are living a charmed life, young, wealthy and in love. Until they meet a Professor Keller and find themselves trapped in a spiralling nightmare. Set between Terror of the Autons and The Mind of Evil.
AN: This story is about the Master, so anyone who reads it in the hope of the Doctor, well, I think it's fair to warn you he is only going to have a very minor role in this fic, along with Sarah Jane and the Brig.
(Chapter 1: Party Girl)
(Chapter 2: Watch Your Step)
(Chapter 3: Little Triggers)
(Chapter 4: You Belong To Me)
(Chapter 5: After the Fall)
(Chapter 6: You Tripped At Every Step)
(Chapter 7: Possession)
(Chapter 8: I Want You)
But if you leave me, then I am broken
And if I'm broken, then only death remains
Alison listened to the police officers, a strange numbness spreading inside her. Peter had walked out in front of a bus on a busy street and the bus hadn’t even had time to brake until it was too late. She heard what they were saying, but she couldn’t understand what it all meant. It simply couldn’t be true, Peter couldn’t be dead. When they asked her questions she could only stare at them in incomprehension, her brain refusing to cooperate. It was the Professor who stepped in and took charge, presenting himself as a family friend and providing information and Alison felt very grateful. He told the policemen Peter had been depressed and the toll it had taken on his and Alison’s relationship and she nodded in agreement, swayed by the persuasive tone in the Professor’s voice.
He went with her to identify Peter’s body too, holding her arm when she nearly collapsed at the sight of her husband. And he stayed with her until Janice, white-faced and strained came with the first morning train. In the following days he was a constant presence and Alison's sister soon included him in any discussion about funeral arrangements. Alison herself could find no energy to do more than agree to any plans made. She couldn't shake off the numbness and sense of detachment, making her feel like she was living in a haze. It only slipped occasionally, but the only thing she felt then was guilt, not grief. She ought to have understood how bad it was for Peter, she ought to have done more to help him. She said as much to Janice who told her it was nonsense, she couldn’t read minds and if Peter said nothing about his plans, how was she to know? Her doctor said the same and prescribed something to calm down her nerves. But Alison didn’t take the tablets, she felt she deserved her guilt. If she failed Peter once again when she couldn’t grieve properly, she should at least hold on to her shame of failing to feel the proper feelings.
She went through the funeral in the same state of mind and most of the memorial service. Her home filled with friends, offering their support, but Alison could barely make herself listen to them and mechanically murmured polite thank you’s to whatever they said. Then the old lady next door sidled up to Alison to offer her condolences.
“It must be very hard for you, dear. I am sure your sister is such support for you and the nice Professor too. He was so very worried about you, I hope you didn’t mind I phoned him as soon as I saw you stepping out of the cab. And as things turned out I’m glad I did, I would so have hated for you to be alone when you got the horrible news.”
“Not at all,” Alison murmured automatically. “Thank you.”
But then she registered what she had heard and suddenly the fog she had lived in since Peter’s death lifted and she could think clearly again. Too clearly. She had assumed the Professor had come at once, but then he would have arrived much earlier than he did. He had known they were back long before Peter had left for his meeting, hours before he came to her. Her thoughts swirled faster and in her mind she could see what must have happened. She could see Peter leaving their home and she could see the Professor’s black car gliding up beside him. Peter in the car and the Professor talking, and Peter looking dazed just as he had that night in the library. There had been enough time for the Professor to talk for a long time. Telling Peter what to do and, oh how important that must have been, when. And she had been blind, blind and stupid. The police had told her Peter had been seen walking up and down the street where he had killed himself for at least half an hour before he died. When the Professor had comforted her and assured her Peter would be fine, Peter had still been alive, but the Professor had already known what would happen. He had calmed her fears and had watched her sleep and waited for the moment when her world would crash around her and he had known.
Alison's glass slipped from her hand, breaking in pieces at her feet. Some of the sharp splinters hit her legs, but she hardly felt it. The Professor was at her side at once, but she turned away, stumbling blindly into Janice’s arms. Her sister led her away, taking her away to her bedroom. She helped Alison to remove the glass from her legs and put her to bed.
“It’s been too much for you. I make sure people leave now and then I’ll come back to you, darling.”
“No” Alison said. “I want to be alone, Janice. Please, leave me alone for a little while. And tell the Professor to go as well, I only want my family here with tonight. Promise me you make him go!”
When her sister had left Alison sat up in bed. All fuzziness was gone from her mind, she felt wide awake now and she was completely certain she was right. The Professor had murdered Peter and she could tell no one. Who would believe her anyway, he had been with her when Peter died. If she accused him, people would believe she had gone mad from grief, they would feel sorry for her, but they would also think she was crazy. Expect the Professor who would do something horrible to her, which no one would ever believe either.
It was impossible to sit still, Alison paced her room in quick restless strides as if she could walk away from it all. And she really could walk away for real, right now. She could empty her jewellery box and leave at once. Slip away and truly disappear, leaving her whole life behind her. But what was the point fleeing now when Peter was gone? Build up a new life for what? For nothing and she thought she would forever look over her shoulder expecting the Professor to find her.
Alison stopped abruptly when she spotted the bottle of Valium on her nightstand, the bottle she had hardly touched. It occurred to her what an easy way out it could offer. If she took the tablets, all of them, she would die too. She wouldn’t have to miss Peter and she wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore. A small voice inside told her she wasn’t really rational, that Janice would be devastated and why didn’t she sleep on it, but she pushed those thoughts away. Almost feverishly she filled a glass of water and set out to swallow the pills. She didn’t know how long it would take before they started to have an effect, and she had not swallowed more than a dozen tablets when the Professor came into the room. Alison should have known that Janice would not be able to withstand his special form of persuasion if he wanted to stay in the house. He took one look at the pill bottle and ran up to her and yanked her to her feet, his face furious.
“Foolish girl!”
He dragged her to the bathroom, viciously forcing her mouth open and thrust his fingers down her throat. She tried to bite him, but gagged and threw up instead. He asked her how many tablets she had taken and when she didn’t want to answer, he struck her face before he made her throw up again. Then Janice was there and the Professor ordered her to phone a doctor. It all went blurred after that. Alison cried and she could hear Janice saying she ought to go to a hospital and the Professor assuring her that a doctor at home would be enough because he had discovered what Alison had done in time. She was carried back to bed and there were more upset voices and eventually a doctor, but Alison didn’t even care to try to listen or even talk. Eventually everyone left except Janice and Alison fell into sleep while her sister was sitting beside her holding her hand.
Alison woke up in her bed the next day, feeling as if someone had tried to turn her inside out. Her body ached and her throat felt raw. For a moment or two she couldn’t remember why, but then memory flooded back. A movement made her turn her head and to her alarm she saw that Janice was gone. The Professor was there instead, smoking one of his cigars and watching her intently through the smoke.
“Ah, good. You are awake. I was hoping you would wake up when it was only you and me here.”
His voice was pleasant and calm, but when he came to sit on the side of her bed, Alison shrank back from him. She remembered the fury he had shown when he had found her, she knew it had not been because he feared for her life, but true anger over her actions. Defiance was probably not her best stance now, but she couldn’t keep the words inside her, they spilled out before she could stop herself.
“You killed Peter!”
He shook his head in concern.
“How can you say such a thing? Of course I didn’t. You know I can’t have, I was with you the whole time. You are just overwrought, which under the circumstances are quite understandable.” A note of steel crept into his voice. “Your recent behaviour, however, cannot be tolerated.”
He carefully folded down her comforter and Alison didn’t dare to stop him. He looked down on her with a pleasant smile, sliding down the straps of her nightgown over her shoulders. His hand trailed over her chest lightly, coming to rest at the junction between body and shoulder on her left side. The smile deepened, became cruel and oddly expectant. His hand moved over her skin, caressed her face and then he put it over her mouth instead, pressing down hard.
“Don’t make a sound.”
Then he slowly pressed the glowing end of the cigar against her skin at the point his hand had been. Despite his warning Alison screamed, but the sound was muffled by his hand and her eyes filled with tears from the sudden pain. He placed the cigar on the bedstand and leaned down over her. His eyes were cold and deep and terribly ancient and Alison felt as if she was drowning in stars when she looked into them.
“You are not allowed to die. You will obey me and I forbid it. And if you don’t, I will make sure everyone you care for will suffer.“ His thumb brushed over the burn mark and Alison winced. “This is nothing compared to what I will do to them if you try anything like this again. I’ll start with your tiresome sister. Do you understand me?”
His hand slid down, resting at her throat instead. Alison nodded, and the hand tightened, making her choke slightly. “What did you say, my dear?”
“Yes, Master.”
He smiled down at her, all affable again and covered her with the comforter.
“You are exhausted and you need to rest. Your sister is talking of taking you back home with her and I think it sounds like an excellent idea. They live in the countryside, don’t they? The fresh air will certainly benefit you. I have some business travel to attend to soon; I will leave for China shortly and I like to know precisely where you are. You will go with your sister now and when I want you, I will send for you.”
The Master rose, leaning down to kiss her forehead before he left. Alison curled up in her bed, another scream building inside her, but she buried her face in her pillow instead, forcing the scream to die. Now she was trapped again, and this time even more firmly than before, now there was no way out at all.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: Teen
Genre: Horror
Word Count: 2042
Chapter: 9/12
Characters: Delgado!Master, Original female character, Original male character, the Third Doctor, Sarah Jane Smith, the Brigadier
Pairings: The Master/OFC, the Master/OMC, OFC/OMC
Warnings: For this chapter; suicide attempt, brief violence.
Summary: Alison and Peter Grey are living a charmed life, young, wealthy and in love. Until they meet a Professor Keller and find themselves trapped in a spiralling nightmare. Set between Terror of the Autons and The Mind of Evil.
AN: This story is about the Master, so anyone who reads it in the hope of the Doctor, well, I think it's fair to warn you he is only going to have a very minor role in this fic, along with Sarah Jane and the Brig.
(Chapter 1: Party Girl)
(Chapter 2: Watch Your Step)
(Chapter 3: Little Triggers)
(Chapter 4: You Belong To Me)
(Chapter 5: After the Fall)
(Chapter 6: You Tripped At Every Step)
(Chapter 7: Possession)
(Chapter 8: I Want You)
But if you leave me, then I am broken
And if I'm broken, then only death remains
Alison listened to the police officers, a strange numbness spreading inside her. Peter had walked out in front of a bus on a busy street and the bus hadn’t even had time to brake until it was too late. She heard what they were saying, but she couldn’t understand what it all meant. It simply couldn’t be true, Peter couldn’t be dead. When they asked her questions she could only stare at them in incomprehension, her brain refusing to cooperate. It was the Professor who stepped in and took charge, presenting himself as a family friend and providing information and Alison felt very grateful. He told the policemen Peter had been depressed and the toll it had taken on his and Alison’s relationship and she nodded in agreement, swayed by the persuasive tone in the Professor’s voice.
He went with her to identify Peter’s body too, holding her arm when she nearly collapsed at the sight of her husband. And he stayed with her until Janice, white-faced and strained came with the first morning train. In the following days he was a constant presence and Alison's sister soon included him in any discussion about funeral arrangements. Alison herself could find no energy to do more than agree to any plans made. She couldn't shake off the numbness and sense of detachment, making her feel like she was living in a haze. It only slipped occasionally, but the only thing she felt then was guilt, not grief. She ought to have understood how bad it was for Peter, she ought to have done more to help him. She said as much to Janice who told her it was nonsense, she couldn’t read minds and if Peter said nothing about his plans, how was she to know? Her doctor said the same and prescribed something to calm down her nerves. But Alison didn’t take the tablets, she felt she deserved her guilt. If she failed Peter once again when she couldn’t grieve properly, she should at least hold on to her shame of failing to feel the proper feelings.
She went through the funeral in the same state of mind and most of the memorial service. Her home filled with friends, offering their support, but Alison could barely make herself listen to them and mechanically murmured polite thank you’s to whatever they said. Then the old lady next door sidled up to Alison to offer her condolences.
“It must be very hard for you, dear. I am sure your sister is such support for you and the nice Professor too. He was so very worried about you, I hope you didn’t mind I phoned him as soon as I saw you stepping out of the cab. And as things turned out I’m glad I did, I would so have hated for you to be alone when you got the horrible news.”
“Not at all,” Alison murmured automatically. “Thank you.”
But then she registered what she had heard and suddenly the fog she had lived in since Peter’s death lifted and she could think clearly again. Too clearly. She had assumed the Professor had come at once, but then he would have arrived much earlier than he did. He had known they were back long before Peter had left for his meeting, hours before he came to her. Her thoughts swirled faster and in her mind she could see what must have happened. She could see Peter leaving their home and she could see the Professor’s black car gliding up beside him. Peter in the car and the Professor talking, and Peter looking dazed just as he had that night in the library. There had been enough time for the Professor to talk for a long time. Telling Peter what to do and, oh how important that must have been, when. And she had been blind, blind and stupid. The police had told her Peter had been seen walking up and down the street where he had killed himself for at least half an hour before he died. When the Professor had comforted her and assured her Peter would be fine, Peter had still been alive, but the Professor had already known what would happen. He had calmed her fears and had watched her sleep and waited for the moment when her world would crash around her and he had known.
Alison's glass slipped from her hand, breaking in pieces at her feet. Some of the sharp splinters hit her legs, but she hardly felt it. The Professor was at her side at once, but she turned away, stumbling blindly into Janice’s arms. Her sister led her away, taking her away to her bedroom. She helped Alison to remove the glass from her legs and put her to bed.
“It’s been too much for you. I make sure people leave now and then I’ll come back to you, darling.”
“No” Alison said. “I want to be alone, Janice. Please, leave me alone for a little while. And tell the Professor to go as well, I only want my family here with tonight. Promise me you make him go!”
When her sister had left Alison sat up in bed. All fuzziness was gone from her mind, she felt wide awake now and she was completely certain she was right. The Professor had murdered Peter and she could tell no one. Who would believe her anyway, he had been with her when Peter died. If she accused him, people would believe she had gone mad from grief, they would feel sorry for her, but they would also think she was crazy. Expect the Professor who would do something horrible to her, which no one would ever believe either.
It was impossible to sit still, Alison paced her room in quick restless strides as if she could walk away from it all. And she really could walk away for real, right now. She could empty her jewellery box and leave at once. Slip away and truly disappear, leaving her whole life behind her. But what was the point fleeing now when Peter was gone? Build up a new life for what? For nothing and she thought she would forever look over her shoulder expecting the Professor to find her.
Alison stopped abruptly when she spotted the bottle of Valium on her nightstand, the bottle she had hardly touched. It occurred to her what an easy way out it could offer. If she took the tablets, all of them, she would die too. She wouldn’t have to miss Peter and she wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore. A small voice inside told her she wasn’t really rational, that Janice would be devastated and why didn’t she sleep on it, but she pushed those thoughts away. Almost feverishly she filled a glass of water and set out to swallow the pills. She didn’t know how long it would take before they started to have an effect, and she had not swallowed more than a dozen tablets when the Professor came into the room. Alison should have known that Janice would not be able to withstand his special form of persuasion if he wanted to stay in the house. He took one look at the pill bottle and ran up to her and yanked her to her feet, his face furious.
“Foolish girl!”
He dragged her to the bathroom, viciously forcing her mouth open and thrust his fingers down her throat. She tried to bite him, but gagged and threw up instead. He asked her how many tablets she had taken and when she didn’t want to answer, he struck her face before he made her throw up again. Then Janice was there and the Professor ordered her to phone a doctor. It all went blurred after that. Alison cried and she could hear Janice saying she ought to go to a hospital and the Professor assuring her that a doctor at home would be enough because he had discovered what Alison had done in time. She was carried back to bed and there were more upset voices and eventually a doctor, but Alison didn’t even care to try to listen or even talk. Eventually everyone left except Janice and Alison fell into sleep while her sister was sitting beside her holding her hand.
Alison woke up in her bed the next day, feeling as if someone had tried to turn her inside out. Her body ached and her throat felt raw. For a moment or two she couldn’t remember why, but then memory flooded back. A movement made her turn her head and to her alarm she saw that Janice was gone. The Professor was there instead, smoking one of his cigars and watching her intently through the smoke.
“Ah, good. You are awake. I was hoping you would wake up when it was only you and me here.”
His voice was pleasant and calm, but when he came to sit on the side of her bed, Alison shrank back from him. She remembered the fury he had shown when he had found her, she knew it had not been because he feared for her life, but true anger over her actions. Defiance was probably not her best stance now, but she couldn’t keep the words inside her, they spilled out before she could stop herself.
“You killed Peter!”
He shook his head in concern.
“How can you say such a thing? Of course I didn’t. You know I can’t have, I was with you the whole time. You are just overwrought, which under the circumstances are quite understandable.” A note of steel crept into his voice. “Your recent behaviour, however, cannot be tolerated.”
He carefully folded down her comforter and Alison didn’t dare to stop him. He looked down on her with a pleasant smile, sliding down the straps of her nightgown over her shoulders. His hand trailed over her chest lightly, coming to rest at the junction between body and shoulder on her left side. The smile deepened, became cruel and oddly expectant. His hand moved over her skin, caressed her face and then he put it over her mouth instead, pressing down hard.
“Don’t make a sound.”
Then he slowly pressed the glowing end of the cigar against her skin at the point his hand had been. Despite his warning Alison screamed, but the sound was muffled by his hand and her eyes filled with tears from the sudden pain. He placed the cigar on the bedstand and leaned down over her. His eyes were cold and deep and terribly ancient and Alison felt as if she was drowning in stars when she looked into them.
“You are not allowed to die. You will obey me and I forbid it. And if you don’t, I will make sure everyone you care for will suffer.“ His thumb brushed over the burn mark and Alison winced. “This is nothing compared to what I will do to them if you try anything like this again. I’ll start with your tiresome sister. Do you understand me?”
His hand slid down, resting at her throat instead. Alison nodded, and the hand tightened, making her choke slightly. “What did you say, my dear?”
“Yes, Master.”
He smiled down at her, all affable again and covered her with the comforter.
“You are exhausted and you need to rest. Your sister is talking of taking you back home with her and I think it sounds like an excellent idea. They live in the countryside, don’t they? The fresh air will certainly benefit you. I have some business travel to attend to soon; I will leave for China shortly and I like to know precisely where you are. You will go with your sister now and when I want you, I will send for you.”
The Master rose, leaning down to kiss her forehead before he left. Alison curled up in her bed, another scream building inside her, but she buried her face in her pillow instead, forcing the scream to die. Now she was trapped again, and this time even more firmly than before, now there was no way out at all.
