1

The brunette emerged from the familiar noodle shop in a hurry, pressing her body through the swinging door and propelling herself onto the cold pavement wobbly. Her hand gripped at the door's frame before pushing away, to glide down the streets of New York.
The wind was rougher than it had been before she'd entered the restaurant, making her hug her jacket closer towards her shivering frame. Tendrils of dark brown hair escaped her plait that hung down her left shoulder.
Her jacket fell down off her shoulder suddenly, the cold seeping into her clothes and chilling her. In order to pull it back onto her shoulder, she lifted her slender arm above her head, to send the fallen sleeve back down onto her shoulder, ultimately revealing the collection of zeroes that were imprinted into her skin, the numbers flickering wildly, showing no indication of the time she had.
A soft sigh escaped her as she continued to walk. Her eyes remained on the jumping digits, eyes a sad glow. These numbers represented something, the countdown was what it was called. The countdown to meeting your soul mate.
Everyone had been born with these clocks on their wrists. Everyone. Lately, hers had been jumping frightfully, terrifying her and her friends and family. One minute, she'd have about sixteen years until she met them, the next she'd have sixty-seven hours until they were destined to collide. Then it would revert back and forth between numbers.
The brunette was terrified. Not because of the scrambling numbers that wound round her wrist, but what would happen once that clock hit 00:00:00 and she'd either be stood before her soul mate or she'd be a forgotten.
A forgotten was when, two people met and only one's clock stopped. The clock's wouldn't restart again after, and they'd be forced to live their life without any indication to their soul mate, being close or being far. They were forgotten, ash thrown to the wind, just as their clocks had forgotten them.
She had summed up, at a young age, that she'd most likely be a forgotten. She wasn't the type to live up to the expectation of a soul mate. She was curvy, so normal clothes, to her, looked terrible on her. Her stomach was stretched to far. Her nose was too small. Her legs were too big, so she hardly had them on show. And even with the knowledge that everyone in the world had the same tattoo on their wrists, she still covered it up, embarrassed of the countdown.
Like other people, she was insecure of her body and her personality. She was terrified of the thoughts her soul mate would think once they saw her. Even then, bathed in the light of the street lamps on an otherwise dead street, her heart still threw itself towards her rib cage, clawing like a trapped prisoner. Her blood pumped faster around her body and at one point, her head became dizzy. She was more than terrified of the thought of being bound to one person, for life.
Her mind turned to other things - her parents arguments, her friends jokes, her small job and soon, the alley that cut between five streets to her apartment came into view. She was still nervous of entering the alley, but if she wanted to reach her home before two AM, then she'd have to slide through the gap.
The brunette soon arrived at the mouth of the alley, and sliding down to her hands and knees, pushed her small frame through the wires that covered the end, a hole expertly snipped between them for easy access and no way of piercing the skin, designed by someone else with more expertise than her. The wires had been curled upwards and out so they could slide through easily.
She came out the other side of the fence, smile on her face at the, once again, well executed escape from the dark street. She set off down the dark alley way, the familiar lingering smell of month old food and garbage hitting her nose, almost sending her fainting. But she was used to this now. The alley was hers, from what she knew.
The footsteps could be heard first, and she found herself stopping where she stood, eyes wide. Her hands clenched, sending her fingers into the soft fabric of her sleeve's cuffs.
Slowly, they oozed from behind garbage bins and nearby fire escapes. One even stood before her, towering over her. Slowly, her mouth dropped at the sight of this tall man. She was only short for her age, coming to a measly 4 ft seven, whilst this man was easily skimming around the height of 6 ft five or at least in that range. His yellowed teeth formed a grin that made the brunette shiver, and not from the cold. His large hand grasped her elbow before she could move.
He easily shrunk to her height, bending down to pull her close. "Hello sweetheart, hmm, didja have a nice night out?" he asked, teasingly, his rough hand coming round her waist, the other shoving his fingers into her dark locks. She whimpered in his grasp, attempting to pull away, only to be pulled back rougher than she thought.
The four others he'd brought with him had now came full circle around her, one trailing a bandaged hand across her shoulders. She pulled away once again, and was let go, only to stand between the five men.
"Take off your jacket," the ringleader threatened, an amused smirk coming over his lips. Her eyes widened, and on instinct, she pulled the jacket closer to her body, and a growl interrupted her. "What did I say, sweetheart!?" he ground out, and one of the other men stepped forwards and ripped the jacket from her body. A choked shriek escaped her as she went for the jacket, only to have her wrist caught in the air, reaching for it.
The ringleader chuckled bitterly, eyes scanning the jumping digits on her arm. They were going crazy. Silently, she swore she heard him mutter, "shame it isn't this one, she's good," and she ripped her wrist from him before he could do more damage. Her eyes burned with thick tears.
One of the others wound his arm around his waist, pulling her so close to his chest, she couldn't breathe. Not that she would've liked too, his breath fogged up the air around her nose. "She's hot - we could use her y'know," he'd said, making the tears fall down her cheeks rapidly. She needed to be home, and she needed to be home now.
She tried to hide her tear-soaked cheeks, but the man holding her soon saw the glinting trails, and threw his head back and laughed. "Hey, she's crying. Poor little cow," he muttered nastily, sending the others into a chuckle at her expense.
The ringleader stepped forwards, and the man holding her reluctantly let her go. His hand came to brush the tears from her face, but a sadistic smile tugged at his cheeks. "I'm disappointed, sweetheart. I thought you'd put up a fight."
Determination seemed to flood through her veins at the notion of her being weak. Slowly, she ground out. "You know, it's kinda sad to see you try and fit your entire vocabulary into one sentence, sweetheart. Now let me go or I scream," she threatened, eyes hard and narrowed towards his.
They hadn't been expecting that, and the ringleader seemed to lose his cool once he saw his accomplices looking impressed at her insult. In a quick move, his hand came over her mouth, pushing her against the wall and that was when she saw it. The slender knife, glinting in the glow of the streetlight. She hadn't realized how close to freedom she'd been. She felt defeated at the fact of being so close, yet her she was, pushed against the wall.
"Like hell you are!" he growled, twirling the knife across his knuckles, before bringing it towards the tip of her nose. His accomplices looked hungry, eyes running down the length of her body endlessly.
The sadistic smile returned. She rammed her eyes shut as she felt his breath on her face, holding in her chokes at the smell. "This is w-" suddenly, his hands left her body and she instantly felt to the ground with a sob. A scuffle could be heard, as flesh hit against flesh, as metal slammed against metal. They had weapons, but who were they fighting?
She didn't dare open her eyes, only pulled herself closer to the wall. She heard mild insults being thrown back and realized - there was someone else. Someone had thrown themselves into a fight, and she had pushed herself into the wall, like the coward she was.
Scolding herself, she peered out from her cocoon, and the conversation became clearer. To her surprise, laughter could be heard. Pulling her head completely from where she sat huddled, she heard a voice. A boyish voice, that same laugh dripping from his words.
"Oh c'mon dude, your mom was quicker than this!"
"Whoa man, you look like a before picture. And I've seen some ugly things."
"Shut up dude, you'll never be the man your sister is!"
She found herself laughing at some of the insults her savior spewed, until a dark shape had splintered off from the group, running towards her. Strong arms grasped her around the middle and hoisted her over in a fireman's hold. She shrieked loudly, catching the attention of her savior.
He seemed to completely forget the knife wielding thugs behind him and leapt into the air at high speed, disappearing among the fire escapes and bricks.
Believing her savior had abandoned her, the brunette took matters into her own hands. Silently, and praying for someone to forgive her for this, she angled her foot and sent it hard into the forbidden place. With a grunt, her capture dropped like a fallen tree to his knees, sending her onto her back on the ground. She screeched loudly at the pain that coursed through her spine, and his hand snaked around her ankle, a murderous gaze in his eyes.
She hadn't realized that the sounds at the end of the alley had been silenced. She only thrashed her foot, aiming for his face. At one point, she landed a hard hit to his nose and scrambled upwards as he howled. He followed her in a mad attempt to claim his prize, waving his knife, only to be sent to the floor with a well-aimed kick. He dropped before her, unconscious, and the knife slid away.
But she hadn't sent that kick to his head. Her heart thrashed against her chest. Looking up from where she was staring at the man that could've potentially raped her, her eyes widened.
Stood before her, a giant turtle breathed just as heavily as she did. His eyes were a bright blue, bright than any other blue she'd seen. Sweat coated around where his mask was tied around his eyes. A tattered belt hung at, where she would've presumed, would've been his hips if he were human. A nun chuck hung from one three-fingered hand.
Her eyes widened and she prepared herself to scream once more. This couldn't be who saved her! It couldn't!
Before she could let the scream escape her, his hand came towards her mouth, blocking any sound. His eyes pleaded with her to stay quiet. Her hand came to rip his away quickly, before he spoke.
"Shh, princess. I got ya." he muttered, a smile tugging at his lips. That innocent smile made her stop. It was. He'd saved her and she stopping resisting against him, dropping her arm.
The turtle wasn't having that though. Where his eyebrows would've been, they pulled together in confusion. His hand went to hers and turned her wrist over slowly. She noticed his hands were shaking.
She looked down too, and her eyes widened dramatically. The flashing numbers stared up at her. 00:00:00. On his other arm, he turned his over, to see the same group of numbers staring at him. His mouth seemed to drop as her hand came to her wrist, stroking at the numbers to see if dirt had collected over a number, hiding something from her. But it wasn't.
Turning towards him, his hand went to her waist to hold her close. She felt safe. But that was until the reality set in.
And the darkness consumed her.