Five Ticks 'Til I'm Yours (Dark Ticci Toby x Reader)

14

The world was moving.

Trees and buildings went by. People went by, free people. Clouds and birds, whizzing on by without a care in the world. It's funny how these things never matter to us. Every person does a lot of walking in their life, from the bus to the house, from one store to another, from class to class. We don't ever stop to appreciate the things around us, far too busy, far too impatient. Sure, every now and then you'll tell yourself it's a 'nice day', but the world has a lot more depth to it. The world is a lot more than just nice. But that world didn't belong to you anymore. All those things out there, that world out there- that wasn't yours. No, your world was here now, your world was dark and painful, twisted beyond belief with no end in sight.

The outside world was moving, but your world remained still.

Shaking off the existential nonsense, you scanned your surroundings. You were in a car, in the passenger seat this time, your head slumped against the window. Straightening up, you attempted to rub the sleep from your eyes, immediately failing when you noticed your hand was awkwardly handcuffed to the gearstick. Well, you couldn't blame them.

For some reason you glanced behind yourself to the backseats first. They were empty. Then you turned to the driver seat, quite surprised when you didn't recognize the man driving. He was staring ahead, one hand on the wheel while the other lay on his armrest, his fingers thrumming against it casually. His brown eyes were intense, far darker and predatory than Toby's. His hair was dark black and tousled each and every way.

You blinked at him for a few moments before you recognized his tan jacket, your eyes darting to the backseat again to confirm your suspicions. There it was, his white painted mask laying there on the backseat, just waiting for him to pick it up again.

You swallowed.

Your next instinct was to look down at yourself. There was a police jacket buttoned over your chest, the pants however, you did not recognize. This was Danvers's jacket, wasn't it? You were wearing a dead woman's jacket. She had died wearing this. You'd be more bothered about it, but there wasn't anything you can do, and you definitely weren't going to take it off.

"Um..." you didn't know where to begin, "where ar-

He smoothly lifted his hand, reaching out to the car radio and cranking it up. Smooth jazz played. He wasn't in the mood for conversations it seems, and you weren't going to bother pushing it.

What had happened to Toby though? You still felt, well, let's go with fuzzy. Fuzzy from the things that had occurred the pervious night. Him just disappearing didn't make any sense. Him leaving you in the care of a man that most definitely wanted to kill you didn't make much sense either. Was Toby angry? You didn't have sex with him like he had wanted, it never managed to go that far. Maybe he didn't want you anymore because of that? Well, you weren't sure if he ever wanted you.

Maybe he lost interest? Maybe your lack of interest in him had turned him off completely. Maybe he didn't believe your claims of 'loving' him anymore. Maybe he was sending you off to die. Approving your execution. Apparently the bastard didn't have the guts to do it himself, so he has got his lackey to do it. He was going to drive into some dark desolate corner of the world. He'd stop the car. He'd unchain you, drag you out into some lonesome alley, some lonesome forest, some lonesome desert. Would he use a gun? A knife? His bare hands? When he was done, he'd drop your corpse in a lake, bury it in the woods, burn it.

You'd stay a missing person forever. No one would know what happened. They'd eventually all forget about you. Just another person who lived, just another person that died. One of millions.

But you had come so far.

If he was going to kill you, you were going to go down kicking and screaming. Maybe give him a good, hard kick in the groin. Just for the sake of bravery. Well, bravery and stupidity.