Villain's End

All people have soul mates. All heroes have villains. All days have night. All stories have endings...

Scott Jenkins stood by the window-door to his garden, looking wistfully into the night sky with a half-empty glass of wine in his hand. The room behind him was well lit and full of people he barely knew. He felt as though his house was being invaded. A beautiful blonde woman tapped his shoulder, a stern expression on her face. “Scott, this is our party, at least try to look interested!” she snapped at him angrily. Scott sighed, “I’m sorry Lara...” he kissed his wife gently. He turned away from the window only for something to catch his eye. He spun back around to see the snarling face of Richard Cassidy at the window. Cassidy had been Scott’s partner but had betrayed him to an enemy they could barely comprehend then subsequently been killed. His face was not welcome at Scott’s window. Scott blinked. Richard was gone. Scott turned back to his party in silence and tried to shake the image from his mind. He couldn’t. It had been a figment of his imagination, hadn’t it?

Two Weeks Later

Nathan Shawn Stevens, owner of the Anonymous Chicken Agency (ACA), glanced at the man next to him through the dark tinted lenses. The scenario he was in was rather disconcerting but necessary. The gas mask was a tight fit but concealed his identity. The rest of the large hall’s occupants were also clad in gas masks, including the auctioneer on the stage who held up the large tattered book. The auctioneer was distinctly feminine in shape. Nate estimated she couldn’t more than 30. “Finally I may present what you have all been waiting for,” she called across the room, “the book of Arbius Iucunduc. Unopened in 3225 years, it is here for your pleasure. We will start the bidding at five million euro’s” she called out in Danish but with a distinctly French accent. The bidding took the price up to way above the five million it started at. When it came to a close the lucky winner was a crouched, his face hidden by his gas mask. “Gotcha...” Nate muttered.

Nate took a phone call then followed the winner outside of the bidding hall. A gust of wind caught in Nate's black hair as he removed his gas mask. The winner removed his mask as well, not seeing Nate behind him. "Hive agent 356 reporting," he muttered into an earpiece, "I have the book. Dr Browning's mutates will be completed as your will commands." There was a thud as a crowbar struck the winner on the back of the head. "You always have to make an entrance," Nate grinned. "Shut it," the Master snapped.

Agent 356's eyes flickered open but it did him no good, he couldn't see past the metal, tightly clamped to his head. A faint red glow emanated from the helmet. "This clearly isn't going to work," the Master muttered. "Have some faith," Nate warned, "Director White of Leviathan assured me personally that this was Cyclian technology that would isolate and project the thought we are looking for."

The Master sat on a chair with a similar helmet on, this one glowing blue. He was scowling as usual. "If you project from your thoughts, what you know of the Hive leader, then it will link with his and project a clearer picture out as a holographic image so we can identify him," Nate explained. The Master sighed, "You've explained that three times now. How about you just do it." Nate sighed at his impatience but did as he was told. Both men in helmets screamed out in unison as a jolt of green lightning traversed from one helmet to the other. The Master pictured the shadowed man in the suit that had stolen his TARDIS from him in an attempt to trap him. It connected with the agent's mental images and the projection appeared. The Master heard Nate gasp. "What?" he demanded. "Identifying this man won't be difficult," Nate said slowly, "His name is Richard Cassidy, he's a former Leviathan agent, and a traitor. He's also dead."

Director White was not pleased when his morning coffee break was interrupted. Particularly not when it was by annoying private detectives. "Mr Stevens," he warned. "I am neither fond of you, nor do I value your presence and opinions. If there is a point to your visit then spit it out quickly." Nate grinned, taking a seat on the park bench next to White. "Richard Cassidy," he said. "What of him?" White asked tiredly. "He's alive. He's the man behind the Hive." White paused at Nate's words. "You have proof?"

"Yes," Nate grinned proudly, a purr from Lionel the cat, who was busy weaving in and out of their feet prompted Nate to add, "Just not the kind I can show you." White sighed, used to Nate's peculiar way of doing things. "Fine," he sighed, "Obviously you have Leviathan's full support for finding this man. I'm sure Agent Smith will be thrilled to be working with you again." White paused again, remembering something from a report earlier. "You may wish to start by talking to Scott Jenkins."

Nathan Shawn Stevens stood grinning with his hands shoved into his pockets as he spoke calmly to the man behind the counter. The man behind the counter was called Reginald and had the most impressive beard Nate had ever seen. He sold hats for a living during the day, but at night he ran a far more shifty business. If you needed information, then he was a good place to start. "It's a pleasure to see you again Mr Touk-Touk," Reginald grinned, shaking the detective's hand, completely unaware of his true identity. A grumpy looking government agent stood next to Nate. "This is Miss Lionel," Nate introduced her, "She'd like to buy a hat."

Sophie Smith, the government agent pulled a badge out of her pocket and flashed it at Reginald. "I'm Agent Smith and we're here for information." Nate sighed. "You just blew a perfectly good alias for me," he complained. "You named me after your cat," she glared. Lionel purred his equal distaste, while weaving around Nate's legs. "Where can we find Richard Cassidy?" Sophie demanded.

"I need to find him," The Master growled at the bar as he sipped at a glass of water. "I'm working on it," Nate replied, "I've called in every favour I have but he's a hard man to find." The Master's eyes narrowed. "I have a time machine," he explained, "I only need to know someplace he's been at some point and I can find him. It shouldn't be difficult."

"Well it is," Nate snapped back. "The only times we know where he was are times that would disrupt your personal time stream if you found him then. When he was an agent with Sophie and Scott, it would disrupt the timeline of your counterpart, the Stranger. Then every other time we've encountered him in person, you've been there. You can't cross your own timestream." Nate was only half understanding what he himself was saying but the Master seemed to be following. "That's not entirely true," a voice said, taking a seat by the two men. "Scott..." Nate said slowly, "We can't be sure that wasn't a vision or a hallucination or something." Scott Jenkins shook his head, "It was him Nate. I know it was him."

It was good enough for the Master. As soon as Scott had told him where to go he was out of the bar, dashing to his TARDIS. It was time to end the Hive, once and for all. Richard Cassidy was the man who had created the organisation known as the Hive to destroy the Master. The Master was going to make Richard Cassidy pay for what had happened to his daughter.

The Master's TARDIS materialised on the grass in the garden of Scott Jenkin's house, just weeks ago. He stepped outside, only to be tackled back into the TARDIS. Richard Cassidy preceded to fling himself around the control room, flicking switches and levers until the thing took off, disappearing from the garden. The Master grabbed Cassidy around the throat and threw him into the wall. A well-aimed punch crashed into Cassidy's jaw. Richard Cassidy laughed.

"Look at you, getting all worked up. I miss the old you," he laughed, coughing up blood. The Master raised an eyebrow silently. "Do you remember back when you were cool?" he asked, "You were the greatest villain this universe had ever seen. Planets died at a click of your fingers. Now you're just a sad broken old man who has to get his own hands dirty. Pathetic." The Master smacked him in the face again and lifted him by his collar to his feet. "This universe needs a better Master. That's me," Cassidy continued. The Master pulled his revolver from his pocket and pointed it at Cassidy's skull.

"That's what this has all been about, ever since the beginning," Cassidy explained although no-one had asked him to. "There was no prophecy. I found the Hive on false prophecy from dead men, after all dead men tell no lies. It hasn't been about destroying you, well maybe a little bit, it's been about building me. I've proving myself. I'm as evil as you ever were. Now I just need to prove I'm better. I need to prove I'm as cold as you are, because let's face it, you're pretty cold. You killed your own daughter when you had to. Isn't that the gun you used?" he pointed at the revolver in the Master's hand. "Yes," the Master said simply, his finger closing on the trigger. Cassidy grinned and before the bullet had even left the chamber, his body had melted away into a pile of gloop on the floor. "Flesh," The Master realised, "It was a flesh copy, a crude imitation. He's still out there..." As the words left his mouth, a shiver ran down his spine and he felt beads of sweat forming on his brow. The TARDIS echoed with a cry of rage and fury.

Nate was still at the same table when the Master returned to the bar. "I take it that didn't work out for you then," Nate muttered as the Master sat back down. Nate passed him a file. "A murderous friend of yours delivered this to me not too long ago." The Master opened it up. "This is on Cassidy," he said. Nate nodded. The Master looked at the first page and saw all the information he needed, to find Cassidy.

Name: Richard Cassidy
Age: 33
Last known residence: 13 Morticombe Drive
Leviathan Access Code: 666
Family: Father (deceased - January 1998) Mother (deceased - October 2001) Brother (deceased - March 2007) Daughter (deceased - April 2014)
Species: Human

The Master ran a hand through his hair and straightened his jacket. "His daughter died recently," Nate commented, "I imagine he wouldn't miss her funeral, you could find him there." The Master stood up. "No. I'm going back to her death. I'm going to stop him from killing her."

Richard Cassidy held a revolver to his daughter's skull with a twisted smirk on his devious face. "Put the gun down," The Master ordered from behind him. Cassidy jumped and turned in surprise. "The Master," he muttered in disbelief, "I wasn't expecting this." "You didn't say you wanted to be me, you said you wanted to be better than me. So don't shoot your own daughter..." The Master reasoned. A look of realisation dawned on Cassidy and he dropped the revolver to the ground.
"You're right..." he whispered. "I shouldn't shoot her. I'm better than you." Then he grinned. "I'm going to blow her up. Much more impressive!" He twirled around, hopping from foot to foot with delight. There was a beep and the Master saw the bomb already strapped to the chair his daughter was tied to and ticking. Cassidy had planned to blow her up all along. The Master pulled his own gun from his pocket, pointing it at Cassidy again. "No flesh double this time. You die." he snarled. Cassidy chuckled. "Go ahead. Shoot me. But you'll lie awake at night, tossing and turning, wondering what happened to the woman you love..."

The Master's gun dropped the ground with a thud, his face changing from rage to shock. He fell to his knees and Cassidy took the opportunity to bolt from the scene like a rabbit. The Master hadn't seen her in so long, he'd tried not to think about the white-haired wolf-girl he'd travelled with all those years ago. The mother of the daughter he'd been forced to kill. He assumed that companion's life would never entangle itself with his again. The ticking of the bomb as it reached the last few seconds of its countdown snapped him back to reality. He had seconds to act.
Nate saw Cassidy exit the house and he charged after him but he had been knocked off his feet by the explosion. He pushed himself to his feet but Cassidy was gone. He turned to face the rubble of the house, genuine worry dotting his face. He leaped forwards and scavenged through the fallen bricks. A coughing spluttering man emerged, holding a young girl. "You're alive," Nate grinned, impressed. The Master laid down Cassidy's daughter on the ground. "She's not," Nate realised, "She's not going to make it."

The Master shook his head silently, refusing to say a word. He could feel his body tensing up. The explosion hadn't killed him, but it had wounded him. It had hurt him enough that he could summon up a regeneration, if he needed to. He needed to, but not for him. The yellow sparks flickered on his fingers as he pressed them to the girl's temples. The bright regeneration energy spread from his body to hers, illuminating her. It wasn't much, just a jolt, just enough to keep her alive, to save her.

"Did that hurt?" Nate asked as they walked away, leaving the girl with the neighbours for the police when they arrived. "Not as much as I'm going to hurt him." The Master said. "If we can find him again," Nate muttered, with defeatist tone unbecoming of him. "We will," the Master stated. "I will."

"Hello Master," Cassidy was grinning from ear to ear. The Master had spent days in solitude, drinking, refusing to contact anyone, not even Nate. Then he'd got a message from Richard Cassidy. A meeting place. An old abandoned warehouse. "Or is it The Stranger. or Colonel Masters. or Emil Keller. or Martin Jurgens. or Reverend Magister. or Professor Thascolos. or Frey. or Inspector LeMaitre. or Duke Dominus. or Estro. or Mwalimu. or Efendi. or the Portreeve. or Kalid, Sir Giles Estram, Gospodar, Major Kreer. or Count Marius Castillo. or Mr Seta, Dr John Smith or Bruce. or Don Maestro, Dr Harcourt De'ath, Professor Yana, Harold Saxon or Donald. or Arthur Jurgens. or whatever pathetic identity you're hiding behind today." Cassidy was overcome with laughter as he listed off all the identites the Master had used. "What is your real name?" he wondered, "I've heard many say it's Koschei. But it's not. That's another alias you've used. What is your real name? the truth is: it doesn't matter anymore. I am the Master."

The Master didn't react as Cassidy proclaimed himself the new Master. He didn't say a word. His eyes were glued to the screen behind Cassidy that showed the woman he loved, strapped down to an operating table with wires all over her body. "Oh yes," Cassidy grinned, "I almost forgot that was there. Let me explain. If my heart stops. So does hers. That will keep me safe from you. Forever. I just wanted you to know I'm thinking of you as I burn down everything."

The Master had sat at the same bar where he had drunk with Nate and planned to find Cassidy. He had sat there in silence, alone, undisturbed. Until a old bearded man sat down opposite him. "People call me Reginald now but that isn't my real name," he said slowly. The Master watched silently, remembering. "My name is Dr Brian S. Senor. I was one of the first recruits to the Hive. I created your daughter, Stephanie."

The Master's breathing deepened as he resisted the urge to lunge forwards and strangle this man. He knew him from his very first encounter with the hive. He hadn't just created his daughter, he'd created the means to control her and force her to turn on the Master. "It was a lie," Senor continued, "everything the Hive stood for. We thought we were saving the universe."

The Master stood up. If he was going to avoid killing Senor he was going to have to leave. "Don't go," Senor said quickly. "Then get to the point," he growled. "Your daughter was just as much my daughter. I created her. I loved her. He sent her to her death," Senor said, tears starting to swell in his eyes.

"If you kill me, she dies." Cassidy said simply. "If you They have dogs with no noses! me off then my man will torture her. It's in your best interest to stand back, take your pension and watch as I make the world scream." The Master punched him in the face. Cassidy wiped blood from his lip. "It appears we need to give you an example. Dr Senor. Shock her."

Cassidy watched as his trusted scientist Dr Brian S Senor stepped into view onto the screen. He shouted in disbelief when Senor pulled away the wires and helped the woman to her feet and off out of view. Cassidy was breathing hard as he fell to his knees. "I suppose this is it..." he spoke quietly, softly, accepting the turnaround in just a few seconds: "You're going to kill me now..."
The Master crouched down next to him and put his hand on his shoulder. "No I'm not. Not if you leave me alone. I'm going to take your advice and retire. The universe has seen enough of this Master and there's someone very special I haven't seen in a long time I'm going to spend some time with. If you want to be the new Master, then go ahead. Be my guest. But first... I want to show you something."

The Master's tired old hands clasped the sides of Richard Cassidy's head as he leant forwards. "Worlds are coated with the blood of the people I've killed. Galaxies have burnt in my name. My family died before my own eyes. I walked through the valleys of Gallifrey with death herself walking besides me and the drums. The drums never ended." He pressed his forehead to Cassidy's. "The drums. The sins. The plots. The disguises. The pain. The anger. The failures. The losses. See them all. Live them all."

Cassidy winced with pain as the Master's life flooded through his memory. Every last moment of it. "Enjoy making the world scream," the Master stood up, his eyes cold, "If you can stop screaming yourself." Then he slowly strode out of the warehouse to reunite with the woman he loved and make his happy ever after.

Richard Cassidy killed himself within two days. The suicide note he left said he couldn't take the pain of one man's past.

Both the Master and Richard Cassidy stared into the vortex, but when it looked back at them, Cassidy blinked. He enjoyed being afraid of the dark a little too much, and it swallowed him.



But I've got High Hopes, it takes me back to when we started...