In The Dark
"In Time", Fortis/OC
Part 1

I never ran so fast in my life.

The night street was lit up with street lights on either side, creating a reddish reflection in the pavement from the rain a few hours earlier. The night air was a little cold, so when I ran, my breath was visible. I sprinted in high heels, the elegant shoe wearing me down and slowing me down.

I felt headlights on myself and the revving of the engine; I swirled my head to look around my shoulder. I saw the expensive, old-fashioned car right on my tail.

My eyes widened in the bright spotlights.

The car beeped loudly at me, revving it's engine and a frightening way. I swirled back around and ran so fast I wondered how I hadn't collapsed right where I stood. Tears spilled from the sides of my eyes, streaking black mascara with it. I bit my lip, my dirty blond hair whipping behind me as I ran in the cold wind of the night. A dead end was coming up, the chain link fence standing before me.

I felt my ankles ready to give away, the heels weighing too harsh on my feet.

I fell with a gasp, groaning with the pain of the cuts and gashes on my knees from the hit from the pavement. I inhaled sharply, gasping in sobs as tears streaked down my cheeks, mascara smeared under my eyes. I quickly backed up slowly against the chain link fence that was behind me. I back-climbed it, attempting to back up against the fence quickly, pressing my body as hard as possible against it.

While I attempted to back up against the fence, the car came to screeching halt. The spotlights stayed on, the car stalling as the doors flung open and four men piled out. They were all twenty-five, of course, frozen at the age like everyone else. They were well dressed mobsters; fedoras, suit vests, suspenders. They were, in reality, creeps in the night.

The Minutemen.

"No, please. Please don't." I begged.

The Minutemen came at me in all directions. They approached me in the dark, the bright spotlight illuminating my mascara-stained face and wide, panicked eyes. They smirked, gathering to me and two of them grabbing either arm, dragging me off the fence. I knew walking home from a party alone wasn't a good choice.

"Please, please!" I said lowly, panickly looking up at these men.

"Oh, Taylor," A Minuteman pressed his lips to my ear, "Fortis has been running after you for a while. You know he's been after you. You aren't going anywhere."

I felt the tears streak down, touching my lips. My eyes were wildly looking at these men as they hauled me away, legitamentally dragging me to their old-fashioned, expensive car. My heels made a screeching noise as the Minutemen dragged me, the heels scraping against the pavement.

"Let me go, please!" My stammers turned into yells, and my yells progressed into screaming.

The worst part was that people could hear me, but nobody dared to intervene with the Minutemen. There was no chance of being rescued or saved. People in apartments in Dayton at night were terrified of the Minutemen; and I had made the mistake of being out late when they were on the prowl. The men threw me into the car. I screamed, kicking and screaming, begging to let me go. One Minuteman and another exchanged looks, and nodded. He took his gun, and pistol-whipped me.

And, in the blink of an eye, I blacked out.

My head spun and my vision was blurry; my head throbbed horribly, and I felt sick. I blinked a few times, when finally my vision cleared. I was in a chair in a reasonably expensive-looking and attractive hotel room. I looked around and saw Minutemen surrounded me and the chair and table I sat at. My head swayed dizzily.

My eyes were smudged with mascara, my hair was lank, and my dress was slightly ripped. My ankles hurt from running away from the Minutemen so quickly. I slumped against the chair, hesitantly looking up to meet the man I'd avoided for a while now.

He stood across from me, standing behind the chair, hands on it, smugly looking at me.

His blond hair was a little slicked back, he sported stubble on his masculine jawline. He wore expensive clothes like his mobster friends; his blue eyes were animalistic. He was forty-nine years older biologically than myself, yet he pursued me. He was 75, I was 26. He wanted my time, my life, my everything. I attempted to avoid him, to block him out. But I couldn't, no matter how hard I tried.

My chest tightened when our eyes met.


"Get lost." He snapped in a low voice at his men, who instantly did as they were told, scramming out of the hotel room, leaving the two of us alone. He picked up a flute of champagne off of the table beside me, making his way to me. He took a sip, set it down beside me, and smirked, looking down at me.

"Taylor...always like her father, attempting to in resist my attempts of stealing your time..."

He breathed in, leaning down, pressing his lips to my ear quietly. I felt his hot breath on my neck, and I felt myself trembling that he was so close to me. His British accent wrapped itsef around my name and refused to let it go. It sounded like Tayla rather than Taylor when he muttered it. He had me in his clutch, and their was no way out.

"I've been running after you for a long time. And I don't like wasting my time."

He hissed, pressing his lips to my cheek. I trembled and jerked away from him, shunning him and turning my face away, which didn't please him. He grabbed hold of my chin and yanked it towards him, making me look at him. I trembled harder in his grasp, and I grabbed his wrist which held my chin. Fresh tears poured down my face, hitting his hand. I gasped in a sob. When I reached up to hold his wrist, his eye caught my right forearm, where my time ticked in neon green.


4 years, forty-five minutes, nine seconds.

"Why do you want me?" I gasped, attempting to plead with the man who was not only a notorious killer and mobster, but my enemy.

He brushed a strand of dirty blond hair out my face mockingly.

He pursued me countless times. Every minute I looked around my shoulder, wondering when he'd be on my tail next. This time, I let my guard down, and he took advantage of that.

Fortis had known my father. He stole his time, except for the time he left for me; 5 years. I'd used one year, and had 4 left. Fortis had pursued me for it, but I always found a way out. Not this time. I wasn't careful enough. Now, I could be giving all this time to him and lose all my time. I trembled.

"Taylor." He answered, pressing his nose against mine, and muttered smugly, looking straight into my eyes, "You have time that I want, love." He let go of my chin, instead his fingers wandered to my right forearm, tracing the numbers of the ticking clock.

"You're a selfish asshole." I snapped in a mutter, never breaking eye contact.

He laughed lightly at my refusal to give in to him, his eyes locking on mine. His lips instantly pressed against mine, and I felt a jolt of shock and surprise when he did so. I gasped when he let go, and looked at him. My lip trembled, knowing there was no way out here, no matter if I insulted him or got him angry. No Timekeepers could help me now, he had me.

"It's not your time to take." I grumbled, "It's mine."

" don't understand, darling." Fortis said, laughing lightly as if I didn't understand, brushing a strand of blond hair out of my eyes. "All time is rightfully mine."

"Please...please, don't kill me, Fortis." I said quietly.

He looked at me darkly.

"What are you going to do?" I asked in a low voice. He smirked, laughing. I noticed then his pistol in his right hand, and his ticking green clock, the numbers slowly decreasing.

He grinned mischeviously.

"Love, I'm goin' to take you...and your time."