Every movement and noise the vampire made seemed to send cold shivers of anxiety through the Doctor's body as the terrible reality of the situation hit home. The last time he had faced a vampire of such strength he was only saved by an extremely fortunate turn of events involving his future self, but perhaps now there would be no future self of which to speak. He momentarily considered screaming for help, but just as he opened his mouth, gasping for enough air to produce the required volume he had a change of heart. Anyone that came to his assistance would be killed in a second, and he wasn't going to be responsible for that.
The Doctor didn't know what to say, for once in his life his voice was failing him. He longed to scoff at the vampire's claims, but deep down he knew it was already too late. "I will never welcome you," he hissed, struggling pathetically against his captor; he would just have to hope he accidentally killed him, or someone was capable of staking them both before any more damage was done.