You were the Doctor's perfect creation, though many found you terrifying. Your skin had a lot of stitches, scars from injections, as well as some iron parts. You were literally sewn from different fabrics, like a doll or something more... Not alive. However, you were created from his personal biological materials and he considered you to be almost a part of himself, just like other clones. The only significant difference was in your gender.

You recently died after only a month of empty existence without emotions and in eternal experimentation, which led to the collapse of his efforts.

After a couple more weeks of sleepless nights, your decaying body was brought back to life, and with a powerful electrical discharge, you came to your senses, noticing your creator.

Excellent.

Dottore almost climbed onto your metal table, grabbing you by the chin. You looked like a corpse.

At last.

His lips curled into a smile, baring his fangs. The Doctor seemed out of his mind. With a sharp movement, he leaned toward you, burying his face in your rotten neck and biting it lightly, without triggering even a nerve impulse in your body. His breath smelled of alcohol, and his appearance was horrible and careless, to say the least. It seemed like he could fall asleep at any moment right on top of you.