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

14

The drive carried on silence, highways passed by, strip malls passed by, neighbourhoods, more people. You didn't recognize anything, none of the streets or places made sense, and you were left wondering where exactly you were. The day had turned to night and the car hadn't stopped. Hunger came and pushed you to the point of bitter starvation, but eventually your mind grew accustomed to the gnawing. Thirst came next, but you knew better than to ask. Sleep was the only thing you could indulge in, and so you did, fading in and out of consciousness.

The driving didn't stop, the radio played all the way through.

You weren't sure why, but your body immediately awoke itself to the scent of food. The car was gone, Tim was gone too. Instead you were in a well-furnished living room of sorts, a fireplace crackling mere meters away. Was the drive finally over? Where were you now? This didn't look like the dark alley you had imagined. There was a couch a few feet away from you, but Tim being the douchebag he was, had purposely left you on the floor. What did you expect though? Where was he anyways? Why were you here?

You slowly crawled onto your knees, your body slow from the hunger and thirst. Your throat was practically cracking as you inhaled the smoky aroma of the fire. Now on your feet, you took imbalanced, imperfect steps towards the smell, peering into a doorway that was no doubt the kitchen. Your eyes instantly caught on the glistening McDonalds soda cup that sat on the table, a similarly logoed paper bag accompanied it. Using the wall for balance, you hurried to get to it, your mouth would have salivated if it wasn't dry as a desert.

There was no point in sitting down, and after checking to see if anyone was there, you picked up the drink. You stood there for a good minute, just chugging soda, the tiny straw frustrating you. It was Sprite or maybe Seven Up, one of those lemony ones. Maybe the food wasn't for you, after all you didn't expect Tim to cater to your human needs. Still, you didn't care. What were they gonna do? Kill you? As far as you were concerned, that was unavoidable.

So, you peeked into the paper bag, greasy fries and a fish burger greeted you. The bastard got a fish burger? Really?

Well, food was food, and so you took a moment to sit down at the wooden table, biting in to sandwich. It was impossible to actually taste it considering the speed at which you were devouring it. Something about prisoners on deaths row came to mind, they'd often get to pick their last meal. Apparently, your last meal was a half-assed McDonalds combo.

It was then that you noticed it.

The McDonalds logo on the bag was the usual large yellow M but sitting right at the center of it was a small, red leaf. You recognized it. It was a maple leaf, just like the one on the Canadian flag. You were in Canada. You would die in Canada.

You were finishing up some of the French fries, your head resting on your hand as you just stared ahead. Above the oven was a little window, the curtains were drawn, but you were able to see through a tiny sliver. The outside world was white, little drops of snow falling to add to the larger mounds that seemed to go on forever and ever. You didn't see any buildings, but were able to make out large trees, conifers, tall and green.

You were shaken from your little trance when someone picked up the McDonalds cup. Your eyes quickly shot up, expecting see Tim. Instead, all you saw was Toby lifting the cup to his mouth before taking a thoughtful sip. His lips twitched down in a frown before he put the cup back on the table. Should you be happy to see him? For the time being the only thing that was going through your mind was embarrassment. Not too long ago this man had seen you naked, this man had his tongue in your-

Nope, you weren't going to think about that.

"How are you?" he asked it so casually, as if nothing had ever happened, as if he was a friend simply catching up. So, you decided you might as well treat him as one, calmly looking up at him as he hovered over you. It was then that you noticed the blood that was dripping down his jeans, looking closer you saw it was coming from the axes that sat hooked in his belt. The entire blade was practically dipped in red and brown, more spurts of blood marked his sleeves and hand, he even had a little bit on his goggles which currently laid around his neck. The McDonalds cup even had bloody fingerprints left on it from where he had held it.