POWER: A Tale of Greatness

CHAPTER 35

"Let me get things clear. You are actually the stepdaughter of the Governor who almost killed us and this is his mansion?" Bulls asked, running through the hall.

"Yes, Bulls. Don't trust me still?" Through the almost endless hall, Jessica and Bulls run over the tiles of granite and the walls are in pastel maroon, well-lit by candles on the wall.

"Not like that, Jess. Is this really his mansion? How come there's so little number of guards?"

"He used to have plenty of them but little by little they vanished," Jessica explains as she leads the two of them. "He's a narcissist and his belief in his physical capabilities is absurdly high.

"I can never blame you for leaving this place." Bulls sadly smiles. "By the way, why didn't you call us through the comms?"

"I dropped it earlier." In between the lamp and candles, paintings adorned the place, each one of them is screwed between the candle lamps, faces of women, children, landscapes, and scenes.

"Who made these artworks? They're fantastic!" Bulls turns while running as he looks around and admires the realistic images.

"Agustus, he loves painting and making things perfect in his eye." Jessica's eyes start to well up, making it less obvious by tilting her head away, "And that is why I am the Jessica you know today. He shoved me to lessons I never wanted, language, history, arts and music, even if I was asthmatic, he forced me to run, ride a horse, and the most useful one for me, being good at acting."

"I'm sorry about that."

"Don't mind it." She wipes her tears, smiling. Not long after, they found a staircase going up and down, "I'm gonna go up and get printed evidence against him."

"And me?"

"If you can wait–"

"I can't."

"Why?"

"I just can't."

"But Bulls."

"I'm quite an impatient person, Jess. I don't want my time being wasted on nothing when I know that I can do more."

"Okay, make it quick."

As he descends, cold air welcomes him, Bulls sneaks behind the pillars observing the shadows.

"Dude, John told me through the comms that the city is in chaos." One of the guards rests his back on the chair, his hand playing with the glass of beer. "That explains the tremors and explosions outside." He chuckled, "Dude, speak up!"

"Mannequins don't talk back." One of the hostages spoke, head leaning against the metal bars of his cage. The other slaves within the same cell ran away from the man, some tried to pull him with them, and the others made a long shushing sound to try to silence the man.

The mannequin's head falls off, "Shut up, farmer, or else your scheduled execution will be made in advance." The guard drinks it all in one go before grabbing the whole bottle and walking towards the cell. "You are lucky, you know? The man you were supposed to be buried yesterday but then everything started occurring and your life sentence is extended."

"Number of guards: one, hostage number: between twenty and thirty,"

"You shouldn't have meddled with the business of our Father."

"Meddle? I was just a citizen who happened to see how brutal you are!" The man stood up and faced the guard with pride. Looked him in the eye and spat on his face. "One of these days, I will see your face down, kissing the marble tiles of this mansion with compassion and with no confusion."