Her wrists rubbed raw as she pulled at her restraints, her mind knowing that her actions were futile yet her body unwilling to adhere to its confines. She let her head hang down as she cycled through the files of her mind, searching for familiarity in the name of her captor. Perhaps a weakness or a tidbit to give her the upper-hand. The cuffs jingled as she struggled once more, and she cast them a disapproving look. Perhaps then, to give her a fighting chance against death.

Her body was screaming as the cuts still stung from the lashes she took on her back. Her tattered BDUs did nothing to absorb the whip's fury as her body had jerked against the post she had found herself tied to, in the aptly named torture chamber.

"Thoth." She mouthed the word as she fought hard to remember the name. Thoth. God of Knowledge. Of Secrets. Of writing. Scribes. Words. Lies. Deceit. She banged her head back against the wall, trying to control her thoughts, trying to control her emotions. Breathing hard, she let her head fall to the side, resting against her shoulder. Messenger. Record keeper. Creator of magic. Her brow furrowed as she desperately tried to dig for something more concrete. Something that would help her.

"Samantha Carter of the Tau'ri."

She jerked her head up, wondering if it she was being summoned or presented by the Jaffa's deep voice. Tilting her head toward the entrance of her cell, she heard the a group of Jaffa fall into step. She cocked her head to the side, picking up a separate rhythm, one that walked to a different beat. All five sets of feet stopped in front of her, and she could feel the heat emanating from their bodies.

"Or do you prefer to go by just Carter, Carter?"

She snapped her head to the direction of his voice. Pulling at the restraints, she gritted her teeth as she only managed hurt herself more trying to break free. The blindfold was roughly pulled from her face, but she kept her head bowed, eyes screwed shut. Seeing was believing and she knew she wasn't fit enough to handle seeing the man in front of her. The man she had trusted with her life. The very same she had trusted with her heart.

She could feel her heartbeat drum in her ears as she clamped her mouth closed, trying to keep her erratic breathing in check, trying to keep her tears at bay - trying to keep any sort of reaction from being used against her.

"Aw c'mon Carter. It's not so bad once your eyes'll get used to the light. Even pulled some strings, got you a corner room with a window and a spec-tacular view!"

She cringed at his purposefully harsh tone and choice of words. Pulled some strings. She had been a puppet since…since when? The beginning? She felt sick to her stomach and gagged on the bile that rose, coating her throat and mouth with a bitter taste. What little amount of courage left in her bubbled in the pit of her stomach, willing her to look her captor in the eyes. She raised her head slowly, eyes taking in the familiar combat boots with the well-known desert-camo print tucked into them. She glanced at the unmistakable P90 that rested against his chest, giving his fidgety arms something to tinker with whenever nervous.

She almost smiled at the memory and she quickly jerked her eyes up to meet his, to see if he caught her weakness.

She closed her eyes painfully at his smile, understanding that he knew. She let out a bittersweet laugh. Who could be a more perfect choice to torture her than the one person who knew her better than anyone else.

She raised her eyes once more, hoping to perchance grasp a glimpse of the man she thought she knew. She glanced at his signature smirk and she felt her body warm against her will, at the familiar sight. She cringed, a sharp pain ripped through her body, leaving her gasping for air. She glanced at him, seeing him hold up a well-known, well-feared and well-used stick, already feeling the electricity zap at her skin as the tip neared her. "Sir! No…no, please…" She begged, the solider in her stepping aside, leaving a fearful and broken person in its place.

"You should learn to address our master by his proper name and not his slave-name. Master Thoth deserves your respect." A Jaffa guard spat out, backhanding her across the face.

She turned her head, watching him approach her with that same comforting grin. The one she could lose herself in and maybe escape from her battered body and hide in her conscience until death brought peace.

She closed her eyes, holding her breath as she felt the stick stab her in the side, groaning loudly as she felt like her very soul was being ripped from her body. She slumped against the shackles as he withdrew the stick, handing it back to his guard.

His eyes flashed once. "Surprise."