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

The Downsides of Not Knowing

Your eyes opened slowly, the tiredness in them still evident as you blinked a few times. The first thing you recognized was the dull light of a single lamp that sat in the corner. Slowly, you made an attempt to move, noticing only then the chains that connected your hands to a hook in the wall. Speaking of the wall, it was filthy. There were dark stains scattered all over it, a strange, gooey substance oozed a little away from your head. Recoiling in disgust, you scooted away from it, regretting it as soon as you felt something wet underneath you.

Slowly your senses began to adjust, and you couldn't help but gag as an awful smell made itself known. You felt like puking, it was worse then anything you could imagine, rotting, decaying, disgusting.

"Awake at last."

The memories that came with that raspy voice sent a shiver down your spine.

You turned your head away as Jeff squatted down in front of you, the faint light of the lamp illuminated his features in the worst way. For a second he was silent, simply staring before inhaling sharply. Forcefully his fingers dug into your jaw as he lifted it up, forcing you to stare into his eyes.

"Remember me?" his voice was low, dangerously so.

You swallowed your fear, breathing shakily before searching around the room, trying to figure out a plan of sorts. You had to do something, anything to get away. There were so many questions whirling around your head. Where were you? Who was he? What did he want? Not knowing if you'd get a better opportunity, you decided to take a risk.

"Where-" in a flash your head swung around, pain spreading through your face as you gasped. Did he just slap you again? Bastard.

"Did I say you could fucking talk?" he sneered.

Your situation began to become clear now. You were at the mercy of this psychopath, it didn't matter what he wanted; it couldn't be anything good. If one word was enough to provoke his temper, then there was no way you would get out of this unscathed. That is if you even got out of it. No, don't think like that. Of course, you'll get out of this, whatever this was. You weren't going to abandon hope, not now, not ever.  By tomorrow this should be nothing but a memory. By next year this should be nothing but a story. That's right, a simple, silly story to tell your friends.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions." You shivered as you felt something cold press against your lower stomach. Hesitantly you glanced down to see him holding his knife against the thin layer of fabric that covered your stomach. It was that same knife from before, he had gotten it back. The simple sight of it was enough to make you shrink back in fear. "And you'll give me honest answers." You couldn't help but squirm a little as he pressed the blade in deeper, tearing through the fabric. You could now feel the metal on your skin, the sensation filling your body with dread. "And if you lie, you're going to fucking wish I had killed you before." his free hand came to grip your waist, holding you still. "Understand?"

You nodded.

"That's a good girl." His attention went from your face to his knife, "So, where's Claire?"

Claire? Your roommate? Why were they looking for her? Quickly you tried to recall everything you could about her, anything that could link her to these psychos. Unfortunately nothing came to mind, Claire was as normal as normal could be. She had moved out two months ago, leaving you a rather cryptic note about business issues. All of her stuff was gone, it almost seemed as if she never existed. When you texted or called, she wouldn't answer, and eventually you had given up. If she wanted to be left alone, then who were you to care?

"Fucking answer me." In a matter of seconds the man's patience disappeared into nothing, his fingers tangling into your hair as he slammed your head into the wall with enough strength to leave a dent. In both the wall and your head.