Till Death do we Part Sebastian x reader

His Maid, In the Past

Your footsteps echoed, your heartbeat pounding in your ear. Another long tiresome day, dried blood on your cheek only visible to those who were practically staring at your soul. You never drew attention to yourself, that's just the way assassins are. You opened the door to the pub, a warm orange glow from the roaring fires and oil lamps lit up the room. The sweaty men returning from a back-breaking day at work sitting down enjoying a drink, laughing with their friends, barmaids being catcalled. The noise was welcoming as it was normal but tonight they seemed more boisterous than usual.

You headed upstairs to the rooms they had. The owner of the pub was a friend of your late father, you still had to pay for your room, but you always frequented there and left when you felt you were overstaying your welcome. Unlocking the door, you stepped in setting the keys on the desk and shutting the door behind you, you locked it drowning out the noise. Dropping your hood and shedding your cloak you went to run a hot bath. After a few minutes and nearly falling asleep at the edge of the tub you turned the tap off, swirling the water with your hand checking the temperature. Kicking off your boots you searched for your slippers realizing you left them at your bedside the night before. Rushing out to get them you stopped in your tracks at the sight of six men in the room, one of them swinging an identical set of keys around his finger.

"Get her."

The biggest of the remaining five men came at you first, and without thinking you whipped out your blade and stabbed him multiple times not caring where you hit. Blood spurt from his mouth letting you know you hit something important in his body. Someone else was behind you and you swung your arm at their chest knocking them off balance. The man with the keys fired a shot out making everyone in the room stop, the noise from downstairs grew louder.

A cover-up

"It's like you idiots forget we have guns," he said looking into your eyes, "she wouldn't dare try anything with a trigger on her."

Unfortunately, he was right... nothing could stop a bullet, you'd rather not risk holes being blown into your body. The men tied you up and taped your mouth and threw you over their shoulder. The owner came in and you jolted in surprise, your father's friend... sold you out. Yelling through your gag his nervous gaze met your venomous one. If you were worried about targets on your back, he was petrified. Because as soon as you got free from whatever mess this was, he was the first one dead and he knew it. He looked over the room and got angry. "You said there'd be no mess to clean up. How am I supposed to get blood out?!"

"We said we wouldn't spill blood, we said nothing about her doing it," he tossed him a bag of money. "Tell our lads downstairs they can go."

You went still in their grip trying to figure out what part of England his accent was from. Maybe then you'd figure out who sent them and where you're going...

Tossed in a cage with no weapons you tried to escape but were kicked back and locked in. There was an upside to being an assassin, you gave even more people reason to want you dead. You forever have a mark on your back by someone unknown to you. Looking around you noticed children of all ages bruised and battered to the point you were surprised some of them could hold their head up.

A kick was aimed at your cage and you jumped in surprise with a squeak.

"Heh, like a little dog. Do you know why you're here?"

You glared at him through the bars wishing you could be quick enough to slip your hand through and strangle him.

"We're gonna use you for our enjoyment," his face inched closer and so did your confidence to strike.