Paul was eating a salad during his break, it seemed to be yet another day of hunting down innocent people. As he took a bite, he heard a message coming through, “Soldier 7285, you are ordered to go to Charlotte’s mansion, a girl named Priscilla has a doll, she confessed, go there and kill everyone in the mansion.”
Paul got up, he did not even pay, he did not have to as a soldier. He stormed through the streets and was even the first to arrive at the scene, he kicked open the door. The mansion, though once a symbol of grandeur, showed signs of fading elegance. Ornate chandeliers, adorned with crystal pendants, dangled from the ceiling, their luster dimmed by the passage of neglect and time.
The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries that depicted scenes of a bygone era. Faded oil paintings, their subjects obscured by dust and neglect, lined the corridors. Each piece of art seemed to whisper of a time when the mansion was filled with life and laughter.
As Paul moved through the mansion, the floorboards beneath his boots emitted low, ominous creaks. The sound resonated through the empty spaces, echoing the mansion’s silent descent into disrepair. He encountered a woman in robes and he aimed his gun.
Charlotte raised her hands, “How did you find us?”
Paul removed his mask, “Charlotte?”
“Paul?”
He let out a soft chuckle, “I never expected to see you again, I am first on the scene, a girl Priscilla called, there is nothing you can do Charlotte. The other soldiers will be here soon, leave.”
“But, I need to go and get her.”
“Charlotte, Go, I can’t do anything. Just, think about when we went to the same school, I always told you I would pay you back that favor you did for me, this is it, leave. Go to your bunker, meet with Jackie, and save us all.”
She cried and nodded, she quickly vanished. As he continued his way through halls, he was conflicted. The only illumination came from flickering candle sconces mounted on the walls. Their dim glow cast long, wavering shadows that danced across the tapestries, adding a touch of mystery to the atmosphere.
The mansion harbored hidden passageways and secret doors, remnants of a time when such features were designed to facilitate clandestine activities. Paul’s journey involved uncovering these concealed entrances, each one leading him closer to the elusive secret parlor.
The air carried the scent of aged wood, mustiness, and memories long forgotten. It was a scent that spoke of a once vibrant mansion now relegated to the shadows, concealing its secrets within the layers of time. He tried following the scent, to find the oldest place in this mansion.
The mansion was eerily quiet, with only the occasional murmur of distant footsteps or the faint rustle of fabric hinting at the presence of unseen inhabitants. The stillness created an unsettling contrast to the opulence that once defined the mansion.
As Paul delved deeper into the heart of the mansion, the air thickened with a sense of mystery and foreboding. Each step carried him further into the unknown, the mansion gradually unveiling its secrets as he approached the hidden parlor where Priscilla sought refuge. He saw a door nailed shut, he started to kick it repeatedly with force.
As the door almost gave away, he got back up, six other soldiers and their leader had followed his tracks. Paul kicked open the door, and it crashed loudly to the ground. He stormed inside with the others, Priscilla stood there, with Jasper, she just, smiled at them.
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Paul walked closer, “Why are you harboring this doll?”
“I love him, isn’t that right, Jasper?”
He spoke, “Yes, and I love her, you seek to destroy love, then we die,”
Priscilla looked at Paul, “Jasper is miserable as a doll, it does not mean you have to kill their owners. If I have to die, so he can be free, then so be it.”
The leader called out, “Aim!”
All the soldiers, aimed at Jasper and Priscilla, she stretched her arms with a graceful smile on her face. “Yes, fire!”
Jasper nodded and creaked, his old mechanical body that was ready to give up. “Fire, soldiers, do what you do best, oppress New Albion and destroy love.”
The leader, seemingly cold and heartless, aimed his gun, “Empty your magazines!”
They all fired, many shots were fired, Priscilla and Jasper took all the bullets willingly as her blood sprayed over the walls. Jasper’s mechanical parts rolled over the ground. Blood started pooling as they lay on the ground. The leader looked at Paul, “Soldier 7285, why did you not fire? I told you to empty your magazine.”
Paul let his gun hang, he had no answer to that, not one he could get out right now. The other soldiers walked away, one looked back, “Why did you not fire, Soldier 7285?”
He looked at the body in front of him, he was left alone with her. “I saw her eyes, I’ve never faced that kind of look, that haunted grace. The way she died so willingly, to die for love. This is not right, this is not how we save New Albion.”
“What kind of masters must I serve, that want to make it into this kind of world? Where one must break family, this kind of love. This, beauty. This is so cruel. Soldier 7285, that is who I am, who I was supposed to be, who was going to save New Albion.”
“But, her death, this beauty, I perceive another place. And it must be built on your grave. I will not let your body burn.” He took her corpse, and Jasper, he took it to the courtyard. The soldiers just stared at him as he defied, order, after order. He started digging a grave for her and Jasper.
The leader walked over towards, “Soldier 7285, this is your last warning.”
He kept ignoring him as he threw his mask away, he kept digging the grave. “Do what you want, I am burying her. I am, human.”
“Soldier 7285, I hereby notify you for your court martial, you will be coming to the court, after you are done defying orders.”
Paul looked at him, “I will bring you down, and your masters. And if I fail, someone will see the way, like I did. The way I went, just like she went. With eyes of love, and a heart of light. They, too, will fight, they must fight, like I will.”
“Today I tell you, this, is done. Today I will begin your downfall, the wind comes that portends your end, the end of the military. I will bring you down.”
The leader removed his mask, showing black long hair, no facial hair, his eyes had tears in them. “I have no choice but to court martial you, but I hope, you succeed in bringing me down, I have lost my humanity. I think we all have, except you.”
Paul looked at his leader, he had not expected that response, as he walked away, he continued digging the graves. He knew what they meant with the court martial. He is going to get executed.
As the soldiers left, two women came out of the shadows, Charlotte and Jackie, Charlotte fell to her knees, “Priscilla, no, not you too.” She sobbed heavily.
Jackie looked at him, “Did you, fire?”
Paul shook his head, “I did not, and that is why they are going to kill me once I return to base. I need to tell you something, a secret I have been hiding.”
Charlotte cried, “What does it even matter anymore?”
Jackie rubbed her shoulders as she sniffled, “I know, this is bad, but you’ve got to listen.”
Paul looked at them, “Byron and Fay, are alive.”
Jackie gasped, “What, you are lying, they got killed and were burned during the riots, about eight years ago, when Priscilla was but a wee toddler.”
Paul shook his head, “I saw them escape through a hole, a man, and a commander killed each other. Fay and Baron went to the mountains in the west.”
Jackie handed him a bag of powder, “This is truth serum, when they execute you, they need to give you a final right as a soldier, ask to drink from the military well. Dump this into the well and you will start a war.”
Paul looked at Priscilla as he put her gently in the grave, “A war that will be led by the Voodoopunks, you will need your leader for that.”
Charlotte cried and got up, “I will go get them, I have to. Jackie, you do this, the Voodoopunks are going to destroy the military for killing her, my lovely daughter.” She shook her head and walked away.
Jackie sighed deeply, “I guess, you are our last resort, I am counting on you, Paul.”
“I will let my death, mean something, just like her death meant something, I will bring them down, even if I will not live to see that day. Fight Jackie, for freedom, until your last breath,”
She wiped away tears, “I will, for everyone who died.”