* The Master is being imagined as John Simm, if that helps any.
** I haven't seen classic Doctor Who, and I haven't watched that train-wreck that was season 8 yet, so if I miss something important character development wise, sorry.
Chapter 1: The Fall of the Doctor
tap tap tap tap
The sound reverberated through the TARDIS, filling its many corridors, becoming a part of the TARDIS itself, exemplifying its loneliness.
tap tap tap tap
He tapped against the cold railing in unison with the pulse in his mind. The pulse that had troubled him for so long. Ah, but it was growing fainter! Almost gone now!
The tapping stopped. The pulse in his mind was just a whisper now. He slid his hand down the railing, and softly glided down the stairs, keeping his gaze on the limp body lying next to the ship's console. The man was on his back, his eyes staring into nothingness, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth, joining the large puddle he was laying in. The pool was being fed by the two stab wounds in his chest. One for each heart. He had died too fast for regeneration. In a graceful arc, he brought his hand up into the air, and snapped his fingers. The doors creaked open slowly in response. A satisfied smirk appeared on his face. The TARDIS had a new master, now. The Master.
He bent down and grabbed the blood-stained dagger lying next to The Doctor. He tossed it around in his hand, rolling it across his fingers. He kneeled down, observing The Doctor, looking for any signs of life or movement. He took the dagger and held it against The Doctor's neck. With the slightest flick of the wrist, he slit the time lord's throat. The blood poured out now, dripping through the grated floor, pooling underneath, draining through the wires into whatever rooms lay below.
The Master gripped The Doctor's hand and dragged him to the door. Placing a foot on The Doctor's chest, The Master pushed out. The Doctor floated off into the vast, empty, space, leaving behind a strange, graceful trail of blood. The Master watched, and waited. Waited until his body was no longer visible. He could afford waiting now. He was now the sole ruler of all of space and time. "The last of the time lords, he had called himself. Like I wouldn't be waiting. Like I wouldn't come back in the end." He jumped up in a new found burst of excitement, snapping his fingers as he jogged to the console, the doors slamming closed behind him. The places to go! The things to see! He had all the time in the world! He flipped levers, twiddled knobs, letting his body take over and his mind relax. Controlling the ship was almost instinctual. The TARDIS was his now, and it adapted to his wills and wishes. He stopped himself. He had a job to do. He couldn't become The Doctor, moving without care through the universe, ignoring the problem he had abandoned, acting as he pleased while letting the death of his entire race remain unpunished. The Master began messing with the console again, but this time in a more controlled and serious manner. He would get started immediately. The Police Box needed an upgrade.