FORTIS

He walked up the dark alleyway. There were few people who could strut through an alley in the middle of the night so proudly, flashing his time wherever they went, but Fortis was one of those people. There wasn't a soul in the time zone that didn't know who he was. Heck, even those in different time zones had heard of the infamous bruiser that walked the streets of Dayton.

Fortis was well aware of the reputation he had made for himself. It wasn't without effort, but some of it came naturally. He'd heard through the grapevine that people called him a psychopath, a Minute Man so desperate for time he would do anything to get it. The second part was absolutely true, but the former? He wouldn't go so far as to call himself a psychopath. It was a strong word, something that didn't describe him. Just because he killed voluntarily, and enjoyed it most of the time, didn't mean he was a psychopath. But he let the people think what they wanted; it instilled fear.

"Where would you like to go, sir?" asked his right hand man, Macon. He usually drove Fortis around so Fortis could either make quick entrances or getaways.

"Whispers," sighed Fortis, getting into the car. "No stops. I need a drink. Now."

Macon chuckled. "Yes, sir. All of this killing finally catching up to you, is it?"

"Of course not," Fortis smirked. "It's hard work carrying around all of this time, though. You wouldn't know."

Macon had his own small fortune from the Minute Men, but Fortis always had more time. To him, split meant half for Fortis and half divided evenly among the rest of the men for every robbery. It was the way it had always been.

Macon pulled up to the bar a few minutes later and parked. Fortis stood up and walked in, hand on the gun that was hidden away in his clothing. He was very paranoid, and therefore prepared for anything life threw at him.

Macon rolled his eyes and followed Fortis inside. Fortis walked confidently inside and the conversation immediately died down around him before starting back up again. People were nervous. They always were around him. The crowd gave him a wide berth.

Fortis made his way to the bar. He was used to it. People could talk, but he'd always be the one in control.

LEVANA

Levana hid in the corner. She was tired of this; being dragged to bars or clubs with friends when she only had enough time for two days or so. The club wasn't her scene by far. She should have been doing something productive instead of drinking away the night. And yet her friends succeeded once again in corralling her into something she didn't want to do.

The conversation seemed to cease. She wondered what was happening and decided instead to flee from the building and go earn some extra time somewhere. She walked determinedly towards the door but something latched onto her waist.

"Well, hello there," said a man amusedly into her ear. "Someone a little too eager to get out of here when the big bad man comes into the bar?"

"E-excuse me?" Levana turned her head confusedly to face a handsome man smirking confidently at her.

"You're bluffing. Quit it," he said evenly. "You know who I am, darling. Right?"

Levana hesitated. "I really don't…I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"You're not from around here, are you?" he asked, the smirk growing wider. "Let me show you a good time, sweetheart." He pulled her into him and kissed her roughly.

Levana screamed into his mouth. Who was this man? He laughed.

"I'm not for women who are all over me. Challenges, I like," he said simply. "You're coming with me. I'm going to break you."