25

Time slowly crawls while I sit huddled in my dank, dark cell. Eventually my terrified tears dry and I drift off to sleep for short periods only to wake heart-pounding in a cold sweat. In the hours that pass, I remember reading that the human brain can only spend so much time gibbering in fear before going numb. I feel so lost. If only someone would tell me why I'm in this era; this century.

Eventually, my mind turns inward: going over what I know since being forced here.

There's a secret war going on between secretive factions, apparently, all over the globe. The Assassins and the Templars fight for the freedom of humanity: the former through socialism and the latter through iron-fisted control.

The Assassins prefer to fight from the shadows to serve the light. They would see the people free to make their own choices without the influence of others.

The Templars prefer to be more overt with their greed and will do anything to gain power. Murder, incest and genocide are common bed-fellows of the Borgia, in Italy.

And isn't it just the damndest thing that all that I've seen here in 1501 is so close to a video game that Sarah's brother showed me, last year? I now regret not paying more attention. Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood; a wild game of fantastic acrobatics and death.

I suppose it doesn't matter much how I first learned of it. All that matters is that I'm here and in very real danger. My mouth and throat are dry from the night's cry and lack of water.

I'm just dozing off when the door to the cell block opens. My head snaps up from my knees and I watch the door to my cell. Breathing slowly, deeply, I try to calm my racing heart. The thudding of several booted feet heralds the arrival of my captors. Climbing to my feet, I quickly straighten my rumpled clothes and situate my hood low over my face. The only reason my hands aren't shaking is due to the fact that my brain is beyond that point with fear.

Five brutes appear outside my door and level loaded crossbows at me.

"Stand against the wall. Fight and you get shot." One speaks gruffly. I nod nervously and take a small step back to touch my back to the wall. I watch him pull out a ring of old keys, fit one to my door, unlock and open it. Two of the other guards trade their crossbows for swords and follow the one who unlocked the door into my cell. With two bolts trained on me, I stand there trying not to shake. My heart still races.

With practised ease, no doubt due to my docility, I find myself trussed up and escorted out of my cell to a small windowless room not far away. I'm forced to duck for the low ceiling as they shove me in and follow behind, also ducking. Only the two holding my arms follow after me. My arms are spread out and chained to the wall. Some slack allows me some room to move but not lower my arms. My feet are chained together at the ankles and that chain is attached to a metal ring anchored to the floor in the middle of the room. Once I'm secured, they turn to a pair of braziers in the corners of the room by the door: their pits full of red hot coals. They pile up something on the coals that I can't readily identify. Clouds of smoke quickly billow up into the small room. Job done, they exit and close the door.

Panting slightly, I wiggle to get more comfortable on the unyielding stone. The room, itself is surprisingly clean save for black ash caked to the corners of the room where the braziers sit. The smoke billowing out of the braziers slowly fills the room. The sharp smell of marijuana assaults my senses. Wait.. What? Weed?

"Why would they gas me with weed?" I muse to myself around a couple hacking coughs. A giggle escapes my lips. A few seconds later a snort. The chains rattle as I break out into laughter. Imagine! My first real experience with marijuana and I'm chained to a stone wall getting gassed with it. A brief thought occurs to me that I shouldn't be nearly so amused at my situation, but, it doesn't last. All the while the braziers continue to pump out the acrid smoke. My head feels woozy but I keep giggling until slump over into an awkward position. Sometime later, my brain finally gives in to the stress of the last 24 hours with the drugs in my system and everything goes black.