| >> |
No. 88791
>>88556
M'kay. None of them are done yet but you guys are always great motivation. This one is set during Vampire Science, after the Doctor meets Harris but before she and Sam make the vamp-away. Only thing you really need to know is that Slake is an asshole and wishes he was head vampire so he could kill more people. Also he starts power-tripping hard once all the younger vampires join up with him.
Haven't gotten to the editing stage yet so sorry if any of the sentences are a bit clunky.
The Doctor struggled up from the murky darkness clouding his mind only to find a similar darkness impairing his vision. Interesting. Arms, legs, neck, chest, fine. Nothing wrong with him other than a slight bump to the head. Now to figure out where he was. He could feel the psychic link with the TARDIS clearly, so not far away, almost certainly still in San Francisco. It was cold though, even for him, and he couldn’t make out the constant buzz of traffic and life that was so prevalent around the city. Underground was seeming likely. Not all that surprising considering who his kidnappers likely were.
He sat up slowly, trying not to aggravate the minor head wound while attempting to adjust his eyes to the lack of light. There was a sudden presence at his back and he forced himself not to start at it. He let out a little laugh to dispel the tension and nerves and then said quite calmly, “Hello Slake.” He felt the figure behind him stiffen, seemed he had guessed right.
“I didn’t bring you here for small talk <i>timelord</i>,” he spat the word contemptuously, obviously disbelieving.
“Brought me here to kill me then?” the Doctor queried.
“No,” Slake said, something dark coming into his voice and oozing off his words, “to send a message,” he hissed, breath ghosting over the soft flesh of the Doctor’s neck.
He couldn’t help the tremor that ran through him, natural response he told himself, he was dealing with an ancient evil after all.
He felt the sharp prick of teeth on his throat, it seemed his cravat was missing. After a quick mental inventory he realised he was down to what he had been wearing when he had first met Harris. There wouldn’t be a quick and easy escape then. The sudden feeling of a hand sliding up under the fabric of his shirt was more startling than the presence of the teeth at his throat.
A wicked laugh bubbled up from the creature behind him. “Oh, this <i>will</i> be fun,” he purred, hand gliding over the smooth cool flesh of the timelord’s chest.
Alarm bells were going off in full force in the Doctor’s head. He knew where this was going, loathe as he was to admit it to himself. He knew what Slake had planned. A sick feeling of dread coiled in his gut as the vampire continued his ministrations. His eyes had adjusted to the dark for all that is was nearly absolute, and he thought he could just make out the shape of a door. Now was likely the best chance he was going to get, Slake was distracted, his hold loose. With a swift movement he jerked away and made for the faint outline of the door.
His freedom was short-lived and Slake’s weight hit him before he even made it halfway to the dim light. So much for that, he was beginning to wish he hadn’t insisted so strongly that U.N.I.T. stay out of this. As Slake ripped the loose shirt from him he found himself hoping that Adrienne would ignore his orders.
The feeling of claws in his back pulled him out of his desperate musing and he couldn’t help the pained gasp that escaped him. The vampire laughed softly, running a hand gently over the bloody gashes before bringing it to his lips for a taste. He sighed appreciatively as he licked the blood away.
“You certainly aren’t human,” he said breathlessly, gathering a bit more blood on his fingers, “your blood is like ambrosia when compared.” He leaned down then and ran his tongue over the jagged marks.
The Doctor shuddered and tried vainly to pull away. His body was flooded with adrenaline, but even so the vampire still had him matched in strength.
Cold hands ran down his body, soft, caressing, and then without warning sharp and biting. The Doctor renewed his struggles to no avail and then cried out as Slake began to work his pants off. He pulled mightily away and grappled with the vampire in the dark for a moment. With a sharp movement he cracked the Doctor’s head harshly against the stone floor.
Stunned, the timelord ceased his struggles, body limp as he fought to hold onto consciousness. Slake took the opportunity to strip him and move him over onto his stomach. The vampire leaned down and let his fangs rest lightly on the Doctor’s throat until the timelord regained his senses. The light tremor of fear was intoxicating. The great and powerful timelords, creatures of myth and legend, and he had one pinned beneath him at his mercy. Mercy wasn’t something he had much of these days.
|