My dad’s been a Doctor Who fan for decades (We all have “our” Doctors; his is Four). He requested a letter from Davros. The physical letter was mailed to him last week!
The timeline for this letter is set three days after the events of “The Witch’s Familiar.”
Close-up A (upper front page):
Close-up B (mid front page):
Close-up C (bottom of front page / top of back page):
Close-up D (mid back page):
Close-up E (bottom of back page):
Davros, Dark Lord of Skaro
22nd September, 2015
United States of America
Milky Way Galaxy
It is his hypocrisy that burns brightest; you could power a star with the lies he tells himself and everyone else. My name—and those of my children—are cursed throughout space and time, in every universe. We are monsters, they say. Pure evil. The most bloodthirsty, dangerous creatures in existence.
But what of reality’s most malicious criminal, he who stole the Moment from the Time Lords and pulled the trigger? What do the confused rabble whisper about the coward who ended the Last Great Time War by destroying his own planet…and then simply ran away? Why am I confined to villainy, but the charlatan who murdered my creations for 900 years at Trenzalore is celebrated and revered?
It disgusts me, Michael, how easily the unenlightened masses are swayed. The Doctor has always claimed loudly that he abhors violence, that he finds weapons detestable—and yet, behold his “Children of Time”: Martha Jones. Donna Noble. Rose Tyler. Captain Jack Harkness. Gentle and kind-hearted, he calls them, and yet how many lives have crumbled because of their actions, executed on The Doctor’s orders? Imagine knowing the legacy of crimes you have built—and continue to build—and then choosing a name that most of the universe translates as “healer.” The treachery! The unmitigated gall!
Three days ago, I had the swaggering fool trapped; my planet still remains in ruins. He wore a different face from our previous encounter, but I found it no less sanctimonious. I dispatched Colony Sarff to lure him here to Skaro out of guilt. Sarff convinced The Doctor that I was dying, that I desired one final audience with him. And because he believes himself to be guided by compassion and mercy, he accepted! And his two Companions, blinded by their love of celebrity, insisted that they accompany him despite significant personal risk!
Three days. Never was I closer to the ultimate victory. I “confessed” to The Doctor that I wished to witness one last sunrise with my own eyes. The pompous dolt swallowed the bait, of course, using his own regenerative properties to heal me—and blundering straight into my trap. Sarff immediately bound him to the cables, feeding The Doctor’s lifeforce through the base and reanimating my children. Nothing that will ever dance on my tongue can match the sweet, triumphant spice of watching him, The Man Who Runs, struggling like a rodent who has just realised its options are depleted.
But though the arc of the moral universe is long, it bends towards insincerity: he escaped, naturally. He also manage to save his Companion, a silly Earth woman whom I assume is his latest infatuation—but perhaps the most humiliating defeat came at the hands of his other guest.
She calls herself Missy now, and though our paths had never crossed before, my heart sank when I determined her origins. The Doctor’s second-greatest nemesis, the Time Lady whose plans to crush him have been nearly as brilliant as my own, is now his ally!! I have appreciated The Master’s work for centuries, an admiration I thought was mutual. But during the trio’s escape, she flounced over to me and actually said: ” Can I just say, it’s been an absolute pleasure to finally meet you?” She even bent her knee and extended her hand…
As any reasonable being would, I assumed she intended to sabotage The Doctor’s strategy at the last second—instead, she poked me in the eye and scurried out after him!!
Never meet your heroes, Michael.
I am writing this letter from an undisclosed location; the “sewer Daleks” that The Doctor manipulated are still searching for me. Like all upset children, they lack perspective and are simply acting out. And as upset children do, they shall eventually realise that my approval is their prime directive. I told The Doctor that I merely bestowed life upon them and do not dictate their choices. That is mostly true. But the young require guidance. Daleks do not love, nor do they respect anything except the purity of their lineage…with myself as the sole exception. In time, their guns will drop.
You and I shall speak again.
Davros, Dark Lord of Skaro
Want to see everything I’ve created in the same place? Because you can do that!