-COUNTRY HUMANS SKITS-

-Captured by the enemy-

Time: 1940

Place: The battle field 

Ship: None (NO SHIP KEEP THIS IN MIND)

POV: Third person

Frances lay on the war torn grass, blood pooling around her. She tried to sit up, but something heavy on her chest stopped her. She realized it was a boot. That boot stepped harder into her chest, and another boot came into view.

"Do you wish to surrender, or shall we end this now?" The voice was cold and calculated. It held not one ounce of pity, not one bit of compassion. Only malice and hatred. 

"What," Frances said, her voice strained. "You think, I'll surrender?" The foot on Frances's chest pressed harder, and a small whine of pain escaped her lips. The owner of the foot chuckled lowly 

"Oh please, you're in no position to refuse to surrender. You're surrounded, no allies, no weapons. You're defensive less under my foot. So again, I'll ask. Do you surrender, or shall I end you here and now?"

Frances clenched her teeth to stop herself from screaming. She felt the boot press even harder and she knew she had to give in. She was defensiveless. She had no hope. There really was no other choice. "I surrender...." She whispered.

The owner of the boot chuckled again. "I'm sorry, did you say something? I don't think I heard you. Can you repeat that?" He stepped even harder on Frances's chest causing her cry out in pain.

"GAH STOP IT!"

The owner of the boot laughed. "Oh, don't cry now. You're the one in the defenceless position, not me. And you can stop pretending you don't understand me, I know you do." He pushed harder with the boot, drawing another cry of pain from France.

"Now tell me," the owner of boots began. "Are you going to repeat what you said, or are we going to have to do this the hard way?" He smiled cruelly at France, waiting for an answer.

France knew she had no choice. She had no way to fight back, no way to escape. She had to surrender. "I-I surrender, I surrender." She said loudly, her voice carrying across the silent battlefield.

The owner of the boot chuckled again. "See, that wasn't so hard. You made the right choice." He finally took his foot of France's chest and instead placed it beside her head, kneeling so that he could speak to her face to face. "But im afraid you have to come with me"

France looked up at the man, confusion spreading across her face. "What do you mean, come with you?"

"I guess your gonna find out" Before she could think France was met with a kick to the skull. France let out a cry of pain as the blow connected. Stars danced in her vision, and her head felt like it was about to explode. She lay still on the ground, trying to bring herself back to reality.

"Good night France, see you soon"

France tried to speak, but her head hurt too badly. She felt the man grab her by the collar and hoist her up, slinging her over his shoulder like a sack. Her vision was fading until it was black

Frances woke up to a low rumble and a faint vibration. She slowly opened her eyes, and groggily looked around. She was in an unfamiliar room, it was dark but she could faintly make out the walls. She tried to move, but realized she was tied to a chair, ropes wrapped around her arms and legs

She groaned, her head was still throbbing and she felt slightly dizzy. She tried to remember how she had gotten here, but her mind was blank, her memory only coming up with small flashes of the fight. She tugged at the ropes, her body screaming for freedom.

"Slow down there France" T.R Stepped closer to her. France stopped struggling as she recognized the voice of her captor. She slowly looked up at him, a mixture of anger and fear on her face. "You're finally awake, good" T.R said as he loomed over the chair. He smirked at her. "You're quite the fighter you know that? I had to put you to sleep, otherwise who knows how much longer I would have had to fight you."

France looked at him with a mixture of anger and defiance. "You bastard," she spat out. "What the hell do you want from me anyway?"

"Oh many things, but I want to start out with this" T.R walks over to a table with many items on it a grabs a brander.

France felt a shiver of fear run down her spine as she saw the brander in T.R's hand. She knew what he was going to do, and she tried to struggle against the ropes.

T.R's smirk turned cruel as he walked back over to France. He held up the branding iron, the end of it glowing a bright orange. "Now, I'm going to ask you one simple question, and you're going to answer honestly, got it?"

France nodded shaking, fear now taking the place of defiance. "Yes, I understand," she said, her voice shaking. T.R smiled. "Good. Here's my question." He placed the branding iron menacingly close to France's face, so close she could feel the heat of the metal. "Do you feel fear, France? Do you feel powerless? Weak?"

France tried to keep her face neutral, to hide the emotions churning inside her. But the fear was there, in her eyes, on her face. She was helpless tied to this chair, the branding iron so close to her face...

T.R chuckled lowly. "You can't hide it, you know. I can see the fear in your eyes. You're powerless here, completely in my control. I have all the power, and I can do whatever I want to you."

France closed her eyes, knowing there was nothing she could do. The brander was inches away from her face, and she could feel the heat of the metal And then, pain. White hot pain erupted on the center of her face as the brander was pressed onto her skin. 

She let out a scream, the pain coursing through her like fire. She tried to jerk away from the branding iron, but the ropes held her tightly in place. T.R held the brander there for a few more seconds before pulling it back, admiring his handiwork.

France was breathing heavily, her face in extreme pain. She felt tears forming in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She wouldn't give T.R the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

T.R smirked again as he admired the burned imprint of the iron on France's face. "That's much better, isn't it? Now everyone will know exactly who owns you."  France glared up at T.R. "I belong to no one," she spat out. "You may have burned your mark into me, but you can not break me."

T.R laughed. "Oh, but I will break you. I will break you and make you my puppet. And by the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging to serve me." He leaned down close to her face, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper. "Mark my words, France. You will break. One. Way. Or another."

A/N: GUYS I SWEAR THIS IS NOT A SHIP.  But beside that I liked making this chapter! I dont really like to write about T.R so this is a one time thing. Have a good day