Prologue

1938

Outside Gaggenau, Germany

Hydra Facility

They called it project Valkyrie. The reason for the name was for the embracing of a mistake made during conception of the serum behind it. Hydra scientist Hans Schleif had overlooked a crucial step but it did not ruin the project completely. The mistake ensured that only female subjects were used. They alone could survive initial injection of the serum. Records written in great detail about the serum made it clear that Y chromosome threw off the effect and it was lethal to males.

The goal of the project was to create a subject that could control others. Hydra planned to use the females to control nearly anyone, be it captured enemies, their own soldiers or other various experimental assets. What ensured proper dispersal of the serum was extreme adrenaline. The catalyst was death.

ooo

In 1938, a handful of women from Germany were attempted for the project, most being volunteers from within the SS. They did very well at first within the fighting aspect of the experiment, building up adrenaline. Some looked more promising than the others with backgrounds of combat ability. Yet none of them rose from those highly anticipated deaths. All candidates were shot by Hydra soldiers or slain by them...or even each other to reach the catalyst. Not one of them ever took another breath. It deterred no one in the project, of course.

As the body count rose, the volunteer numbers trickled down until there were no more. At first Schleif followed what the ideal image of a Valkyrie was, almost as a joke. They wanted the final product- to be named Valkyrie- as the ideal of an Aryan woman- tall, healthy and blond with blue eyes. However, those few, which were originally volunteers, died and obviously they'd stopped volunteering.

Orders were to start searching throughout Germany but they could only steal away good citizens for so long. They realized contributing to the death count of Aryan looking women should be conducted no longer, so they began branching outward.

Nazi occupied countries had a standing order to snag any woman who had an looked healthy- and fought back. Scores of women were brought in from many different regions. All who had the serum forcefully introduced had to fight and not one rose from the dead to become the project's Valkyrie.

Sometimes the women wouldn't be killed on the first go around within the "arena", as the project team liked to call it. It was the outdoor glorified cage match- or shooting range. It often depended on the day and attitude of the officer in charge, but sometimes they would just end the day executing some of the women crying in the mud.

Eventually they noticed a particular female who never went down and never lost a fight. When they threw some soldiers in they had a hard time cornering her and she took down two men with a knitting needle despite her short stature. They removed such needles from the ladies' cells after that.

By the time Schleif heard about her success, Zola had come into the project. They were intrigued. The two found out from her record that she was Ruska- a Russian gypsy. She also had red hair and amber eyes; the complete opposite of the Nazi ideal. This meant nothing to them. She had enough spirit to give them pause and she killed or maimed whatever they threw at her and the other women with her. She always seemed to rally some of them in the arena and it seemed to help her longevity.

Finally they decided it was time to truly test her and end the waiting game. They needed to know.

ooo

Aleksandra knew her time was coming. She didn't know why she was here or what they wanted but she was not alone. Though she'd seen so many die at the hands of soldiers, sometimes each other when the reward was right, she was never actually alone. They had even thrown a bear in 'd been lucky enough to get behind that fucking creature and slammed her sharpened dinner spoon into his skull, saving the last of them in the area that day. Not before he'd taken out her little friend, the sweet Romanian girl who'd been lucky enough to be ignored by others or left in the cells for a long time.

The other women tended to stay away from Aleksandra when she was in the community cell, but in the arena? They stood by her, behind her. She was pure crazy in there and crazy was good if you wanted to survive a world based on insanity. Aleks tried to ignore the gore and the fights but sometimes she woke in a cold sweat, grabbing for a weapon. She always had something nearby or in her hair. Nona had taught her to never be without something sharp.

Lucky for her- or rather, unlucky in the whole of it- growing up with her Ruska nomadic people and their culture was hard. This was not because the life was terrible. She loved her kin and how much they protected one another. It was the untrustworthy Gadjo- non-gypsies- who they had to fear, and for good reason. Around them you needed to be swift and ruthless- as they would be no different to her kind.

Aleksandra had learned her first lesson very young and never needed a refresher. While ruminating over her life was the most fun she had lately, she'd known her time was up for a while. She could practically taste it. Which is why when they opened the cell and the others scattered she knew they were coming right for her. She was not disappointed.

ooo

Blood that ran into her eyes blinded her and she could no longer see straight. That last blow to her head was pretty terrible. She'd never been punched in the face by a man before- well, not as hard nor so many times. They'd meant business, but she had her own weapons. The soldiers beat her into the ground, but she'd spat blood and they relented momentarily, disgusted.

Before the slowest and burliest man recoiled she had latched her ankles around his neck. He lurched back, lifting her with him, and her nimble fingers normally used to pickpocket in the streets were used to dig into his eye sockets like they were butter. His scream was fairly inhumane but that hadn't stopped her from laughing from her place on his shoulders. He was now no-eyed Gadjo Nazi and she was pleased she'd gotten in such a cruel injury. They fucking deserved it.

Her victory was short as she was yanked down into the mud. Before she could move she was stabbed through the belly with a bayonet. She didn't scream, just hissed and eyes the bastard who held the rifle. Instead she used her energy to kick him in the balls, bringing him down to her level. Without thinking she lurched over, effectively maiming herself further, and took a chuck out of the man's face with her teeth. His scream echoed in the area and finally they backed away from her. She was slowly dying from her abdominal wound but she wasn't going to die slow if she had any say in it.

"A little girl scares you..." she spat in German, but they got the goddamn point even with her bad grammar. Scar-face stood up, allowing her to see her work on his cheek, and she smiled at him prettily, blood staining her teeth. "What will your wife say to that face?" she laughed.

Saying nothing, the soldier lifted the pistol that'd been dangling from his side and took aim. The others saw too late. They were under orders to extend her death. It was an execution, true, but she knew they were stringing it out to long to call it that. She was getting what she wanted though, it seemed. She felt the jerk of her chest before she heard the shot. The bloom of pain was sharp but dulled quickly as she lost blood. The woman welcomed the loss after all the torture preceding it.

Aleksandra, scrappy Ruska brawler, felt cold and painless as she finally died in the bloody arena.