So, this is a random thought. Just felt I should write it out.
My name is Vanessa Ferra, and I've been captured by Templars.
That, all by itself, is enough to really ruin your day.
It wasn't just a random kidnapping, though they're definitely low enough to do that. See, I'm a member of a secret organization myself, one that has opposed the Templars for a thousand years or more: the Assassins, capital A, and trust me, we deserve that capitalization.
The conflict is simple. The Templars want to take over the world, force peace on the planet, destroy all trace of free will. The Assassins protect free will. We believe that if the world's going to hell, it should at least be by our own actions, our own decisions. I guess that the Templars mean well, but they're heartless. They'll rain death and destruction on anyone who gets in their way, shouting how it's all for the greater good the whole time.
I don't know about you, but I think that someone that messed up in the head should be put down before they take down the rest of us with them.
One problem: they're winning. They're smart, resourceful, and practically own half the planet. Don't get me wrong, the Assassins are sneaky as hell and we can all kick serious ass, but there are just too many of them. We're winning battles, but losing the war.
I was born into the Brotherhood. I grew up watching my parents fight, and I wanted to be there next to them. I've never questioned it, and I don't want to. Life sucks hard enough without throwing an identity crisis into it.
They hit my team in Denver. Dan drowned in his own blood as his own ribs pierced his lungs. Missy got two bullets in the chest and three in her head. Jake took down two of them before some bastard snuck up behind him and snapped his neck. I watched it all from the corner of my eye when I was fighting. Then they hit me over the head and I black out.
I woke up in a cell. Not a real one, with bars and such, but it was still a cell. It had a double bed, a desk, a full bathroom, no windows, and a solid steel sliding door that wouldn't budge no matter how hard I hit it. The first few hours I screamed and cried a lot. I'd liked my team. We'd bled for each other. And they'd died. I think that gave me a good excuse to go to pieces for a little while.
They let me stew for a few hours before opening the door. I broke both legs of the first guy to enter the room, and might have gotten an eye on the second guy before the dart hit my neck. Then everything got foggy.
I remembered bits and pieces of when they strapped me down for the first time on the Animus. Some bald guy in a doctor's cloak stood over me and talked. The guards called him Vidic, I think. He patted me on the head, which oddly felt as violating as if he'd groped me, and said the last thing that stuck clearly in my head.
"Well, Miss Ferra, let's see if Subject Eighteen won't be a bit more helpful than her predecessors." That's when the Animus activated.
My name is Vanessa Ferra. This is my story.
More to come, maybe. I'm not sure. Oh well.
