December 2016

"You alright there, lad?" A concerned Benjamin Hornigold approached, expressing genuine concern for the dirty-haired blonde sitting on the steps of the general store. "What with all that madness those reckless dogs, Vane and Rackham started last night, I figured you'd still be in bed with that Irish strumpet you see every time you weigh anchor."

A cross-dressing Samantha Dawson perked up, immediately setting her eyes on the seasoned pirate standing in front of her.

Benjamin Hornigold, a distinguished pirate-turned-pirate hunter, stood with his boots in the sand without his favourite navy blue coat on. His shirt hung loosely with a thin V exposing his chest. His hair was in a messy ponytail, some strands of his greying hairs blowing about from the easterly breeze sweeping through the squalor that he so proudly called his republic.

"Aye," Samantha answered gruffly in a poor attempt to hide her feminine voice. "Had too much grog for me liking. And like you've put it, I still carry a head for ten. However, surprisingly, I feel a recovery taking effect from that mess them bartenders call breakfast. How the devil did you find a proper cook for your ship and none for this place?"

Benjamin chuckled. "We're workin' on it lad."

"Have you seen Thatch?"

" 'Fraid not. Went sailin' with Kenway to hunt that galleon he was going on about. Reckon he should have it here within a week or more."

"Ah, well... He knows how to put things like that to good use. Would make a nice ornament for the harbour, too."

Benjamin retrieved his pipe from his pocket and a match he used to light the tobacco. Folk behind him went about their daily business, most of whom were merchants delivering goods as ordered, and some were retrieving supplies to hunt for fish and other creatures to supply new items for the tavern gourmet menu.

The conversation she had with Benjamin Hornigold would be one of the rare occasions where he truly did care for the godforsaken island before his mind would waver and his soul would leech on the lies of the Templar Order.

It was now the start of June.

Samantha had lost count of the days of her captivity in a bunker, constantly monitored by members of Hydra and abused with medical and scientific equipment. Their ruthlessness was anything short of sufficient whenever they attempted to rattle Samantha's willpower in hopes of breaking her and convincing her to spill her secrets.

Each day that passed, Samantha endured extreme hardship; through regular beatings, meal restrictions, and torture just for the sake of her captors who wished to entertain their days or make it go faster.

The cosmic radiation that was detected, intrigued the terrorist organisation. There was, without a doubt, corrupted desire amongst the leading members of the Hydra group, for they wished to use it to benefit their own ideas and agendas; to conquer the new world and reshape it into a Hydra eutopia.

Some were more willing to obliterate the insignificant peasants that made up the face of the new world, while others preferred to control the people and create order and a sense of purpose and direction, similarly to that of the Templars, whom they were in league with.

Samantha was forced and strapped down tightly into a chair with none other than the German personally overseeing and leading her interrogation. She expected ruthlessness and a grand display of his cold heart once he began torturing her for information, as per protocol.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here... a clipped bird that lost its ability to fly. You are a long way from home, Frau Dawson." The German taunted, berating the blonde with further insults and such that made Samantha roll her eyes at his childish behaviour.

"Spare me the melodrama, Herr Wolff. In fact, permit me to spare you the trouble when I tell you, I've nothing of value to tell you."

"That's where I prove you wrong, Frauline. I have not kidnapped you from those whom you seek refuge with just for information... I stole you for blood."

A sudden cold chill ran up her spine. Her eyes widened, almost bulging out of their sockets as her mind raced through the multiple options the German had in store for her.

Approximately one hour, three minutes and forty-eight seconds had passed since the German decided to take advantage of a bound Samantha Dawson and ravage her body with blades and other devious items he had at his disposal; for all the grief she had caused him in the past few months, his degree of fury was nothing compared to how little progress he made in marking her body with more scars on top of her existing ones.

Her face dripped crimson from the cuts on her face, blood streaks and marks marked her skin. Shavings of hair stuck to her skin, even mixing with her blood from when she got her head shaved.

"You may not have your uses, Assassin, but you do bring that appealing desire to carve off your face and hang it on my wall." The German spat with venom as he punched Samantha in the jaw with enough force to make her cheek go numb.

Samantha drew ragged breaths on account of the injuries she'd sustained from the horrendous torture she was forced to endure. Many cuts on her face stung a hundredfold from every impact of the German's fist or opened palm or backhand striking her face.

"Fuck... you..." Samantha wheezed dryly.

"You're going to wish I had killed you, Frau Dawson." Said the German. "Oh no... I have plenty more in store for you, Assassin! GUARDS! Take this piece of filth back to her cell! Do not pity her and bring her meals – deny them. I want her to suffer."

A stroke of grace blessed Samantha with freedom from the German's presence, for she was now left to endure isolation and the cold as she was left in nothing but her underwear.

A beaten Samantha Dawson sat in the corner of her cell, aching from every brief movement – whether that be repositioning herself for better comfort, or anything close to it, or simply just by breathing – as a result of the horrendous treatment she endured whilst in captivity. Samantha's face was completely exposed without her hair to conceal the bruises and black eyes as a result of having her head shaved.

Her captors ridiculed her and spat at her face, depriving her of the energy to lash out, for the beatings were a physical reminder of that. She was somewhat relieved that the most they'd done was beat her, for anything beyond that that regarded her feminine figure could do no more psychological damage than isolating her for many hours a day.

There was barely any strength left in her, evidently clear by how the guards were compelled to drag her out of her cell and around the bunker for her daily torture routine, followed by a miniscule feeding to keep her barely alive, but just enough to keep her conscious. Her anguish continued as her captors became more and more impatient, the longer she refused to give them anything sufficient to even consider sparing her another bashing.

Samantha would come to lose track of time during her captivity within the Hydra bunker. Months passed by and she never kept track of how long she'd been waiting, only that she was hoping her Wanda would come and find her and save her.

Hope was running thin and she was running out of patience.

One late evening, no guards were posted outside of Samantha's cell to ensure she did nothing to attempt an escape, for her captors believed that she could do nothing at all. 

When the corridors and rooms were as quiet as a graveyard, and Samantha was lying on the floor on her back, she barely managed to close her eyes and sleep when a disturbance completely ruined her valiant efforts in harvesting energy. A worn, metal door creaked as a figure, a Hydra soldier, crept inside at a time he knew everyone would be asleep.

Samantha's breathing hitched in her lungs, lungs that made it difficult for her to breathe as a result of the broken ribs. She remained completely still and pretended to be fast asleep as the stranger unlocked her cell door using a key he somehow managed to acquire for his devious nighttime raid. Samantha heard a low, malicious chuckle when her pants were pulled down her legs, thus exposing the bruises on her thighs and shins.

A pair of hands grabbed the sides of her arms and she was rolled over onto her front. She truly did her best to avoid making a sound to alert her captor of her consciousness. The broken ribs and aching body made it extremely difficult for Samantha to not make a sound as she tensed her entire body, miraculously avoiding detection by the man who intended to defile her body.

Before anything could go further, Samantha mustered what strength she could awaken and she spun around, causing a striking pain to travel throughout her entire body when she threw her knee up, hitting her captor in the balls. Barely a yelp escaped him as he fell on Samantha, thus allowing her the opportunity to finish him off.

Berserkly, Samantha fanged her teeth and embedded them in her captor's throat to ensure he didn't alert his allies of his demise. Once he was dead, Samantha attempted to roll to one side in order to slide his corpse off hers. She then proceeded to grab the keys and pull herself up to her feet.

Due to the consistent pain driving Samantha insane, she put everything she had into escaping the room and acquiring a medkit to give herself some painkillers and a shot of adrenaline. After she did this, she tip-toed through the corridors in search of her clothes and other belongings she had on her when she was kidnapped. But she couldn't leave just yet.

Samantha had time to rig the entire bunker with C4. As she went about placing C4 explosives in various parts of the bunker, Samantha happened to stumble her way into one room with a door wide open. Inside was various surgical equipment on trays and monitors, machines connected to two boys, somewhere between seven and ten, lying on beds in strenuous slumber under the care of the remnants of Hydra.

There was no hesitation when she darted to the boys and unmangled the cords and gloved handcuffs that covered their entire hands up to their forearms, attached to their bodies. As they awoke due to the commotion, the two boys were initially petrified by the stranger standing beside them.

"Hey, hey!" Samantha whisper-yelled. "It's alright, boys, you're safe now."

Neither could think sensibly due to the fear overwhelming them, as evident in their eyes.

"My name is Samantha. What are your names?" She asked, hoping that it would help steady their heads and ease their hearts.

The boy on the left answered, "V-Victor."

And the other said, "J-J-James."

"Well, boys, I am your friend and I will rid us of this godforsaken place to somewhere safe for you both; a place where you can sleep peacefully and receive the true love and affection you deserve instead of being experimented on and maltreated by these monsters."

The boys looked at one another then back at Samantha. They both nodded their heads and with her help, they got out of bed and allowed her to free their hands of their restraints before following Samantha out of the room. In haste to make distance from the bunker and the blast radius, Samantha patiently ushered the two boys to follow her outside.

Unfortunately, as a result of the boys' absence from their beds and their being unhooked from the machinery, an alarm was triggered, putting the entire bunker in full alert. Within a matter of minutes, heavy footsteps trampled through the corridors, marching closer and closer with the intent to shoot on sight.

With freedom in sight, Samantha couldn't help but smile at the sight of the open door stretching out to what laid beyond. That was, until several men stood in their path.

"Boys, get behind me. Close your eyes and brace for-"

Samantha became confused when she heard the two youngsters yelling and growling crazily as they charged towards the gunmen. At first instinct, Samantha wanted to yell at them, but when bullets started flying, she was mortified by what she saw.

The boys were riddled with bullets, and yet shockingly enough, they were completely unaffected by it as they both slaughtered the Hydra soldiers for the things they'd done to them prior to their separate kidnapping.

"What the devil...?" Samantha muttered under her breath.

Her eyes analysed their wounds but quickly found them healing on their own with a rapid mutation that made it seem as though there were never any wounds in the first place. What their mutations couldn't fix were the holes in their clothes. 

The boys made quick work of the men before they looked over their shoulders, back at her. They both smiled, waving their hands at her, calling her after them. Obligated to ensure their safety through and through, Samantha ran up behind them before taking charge.

"What now?" James panted, his breath foggy from every exhale as they stood outside in a dark, chilly forest.

Samantha took their hands into hers, ignoring the bloodstains and she answered confidently, "Home."