Silver Creek's sun was high in the sky, projecting long and sinister shadows on the Whitmore domain. The imposing manor by Vince Whitmore, a real stone and iron fortress, stood at the top of a hill, visible from the whole city as a constant reminder of its authority. Jonathan Campbell, accompanied by his wife Margaret and their daughter Rose, stopped at the main entrance, observing with apprehension the armed guards and the nervous dogs that patrolled the property.

  - It's strange to come back here as foreigners, whispered Margaret to her husband.

  Jonathan nodded, his serious gaze fixed on the portal. In the past, Campbell and Whitmore shared a solid friendship, built on years of collaboration and mutual respect. But today's Vince was very different from the man he had known.

  They were escorted inside, crossing a carefully maintained, but strangely oppressive garden, where the workers seemed to bend the spine under an invisible weight. When they arrived in the main hall, they were welcomed by Vince and Victoria Whitmore, dressed with ostentatious elegance. Vince displayed a calculated smile while reaching out a hand towards Jonathan.

  "Jonathan, Margaret, what a pleasure to see you," he said in a tone that betrayed an underlying irony.

  "Vince," replied Jonathan with a forced smile, avoiding prolonging the exchange.

  Victoria approached her icy presence invading the room.

  - Margaret, what a surprise. You have come all the way to us.

  Rose and Mason, present in the hall, were quickly invited to walk in the garden by the latter.

  - Come, said Mason to Rose, I'm going to show you something.

  After a moment of hesitation, Rose followed Mason outside, leaving the adults alone.

  A discussion that slips

  Jonathan started the discussion in a measured tone.

  - Vince, we came to talk to you as a love, or at least as a concerned neighbors. Your recent actions ... let's say they worry the community.

  Vince exploded with sufficient laugh.

  - The community, Jonathan? A band of dreamers unable to grasp the realities of power. I do what I need to maintain order and protect my interests.

  Jonathan clenched his fists but kept his calm.

  - What you call holding order is more like tyranny. People suffer, Vince. Families are ruined, land is taken by force.Victoria, hitherto silent, spoke.

  -Oh, Jonathan, save us this moralist speech. We live in a world where only the forts survive.

  Margaret, indignant, turned to her.

  - And that makes you proud, Victoria? To crush the weak to establish your domination?

  Victoria hausses an eyebrow, her tone becoming acidic.

  - Worse than domination, Margaret, is weakness. And that's exactly what I see at home.

  Jonathan tried to refocus the conversation.

  - Vince, we are here to ask you, as a love, to stop these persecution. Let the city breathe.

  But Vince approached him, his imposing stature accentuated by his carnivorous smile.

  - What if I refuse, Jonathan? Do you plan to get up against me? You and your insignificant little ranch?

  Humiliation

  Margaret straightened up, defending her husband.

  - Jonathan is much more honorable than you will never be.

  Vince burst out laughing, her dark gaze landing on her.

  - Honor, Margaret? He has no value here. It’s money and fear that dictates the rules.

  Victoria, crossing her arms, added:

  -Maybe it's time for you to learn this lesson.

  Vince slammed his fingers, and one of his guards entered with a register containing debts accumulated by certain Silver Creek farmers. He threw him on the table in front of the Campbell.

  - Here, Jonathan. Recognizes the names. Recognizes the debts. Tell me, how many people do you think I'm going to save after today?

  Jonathan felt the rage ride him.

  - What you do is abject, Vince. And that will not remain unpunished.

  Vince leaned forward, her smile disappearing.

  - This is not a threat that I advise you to do, Jonathan. Because I am the one who decides here.

  The warning

  Margaret tried to calm the situation, but Vince raised his hand.

  -Listen to me well, Jonathan. Go back to your ranch, and stay out of my things. If you persist ... Well, I don't need to tell you what will happen.

  Jonathan got up, shaking his teeth so as not to explode.

  - You haven't always been like that, Vince. One day, you will see that the power you cherish so much is only an illusion.

  Victoria Ricana.

  -Perhaps, but for the moment, this illusion suits us very well.

  The palpable tension is exercised in the manor. Meanwhile, in the garden, Mason and Rose were still absent. Jonathan silently swore not to let Vince destroy their city, but basically, he knew that this fight would be far from easy.Mason and Rose left the big hall to find themselves in the Whitmore garden, a beautifully maintained space, but imbued with a strange coldness, as if the beauty of the places masked an insidious evil. The perfectly cut hedges formed winding alleys, bordered by roses with sharp thorns. The air was heavy, and the rare songs of birds seemed to suffocate by a heavy atmosphere.

  Rose walked in silence, admiring the flowers with a distracted eye. She had accepted the invitation of Mason out of politeness, but a part of her was wary of this young man. His reputation preceded him: arrogant, ruthless, and deeply influenced by his father, Vince.Mason, for once, seemed strangely relaxed. He observed the flowers with unusual attention, touching them with his fingertips as if he shared a secret with them.

  -You know, Rose, he said finally, this garden is my refuge. Here, I can escape everything that my father expects from me. To his sermons, to his plans, to his insatiable thirst for control.

  Rose, surprised by this confession, hausses an eyebrow.

  - I thought you approved everything he does.

  Mason turned her gaze to her, a mixture of arrogance and sincerity.

  -Maybe I don't really have a choice. But you could have one.

  He took a step towards her, his tone becoming softer.

  - Why fight, pink? You are different from the other inhabitants of this city. You could have a much better life. If you wanted ...

  Rose stared at him, hesitant. There was in his words a disturbing promise, but also a veiled threat.

  -And what do you propose? she asked.

  "To protect you," he replied calmly. To offer you what no one else can: comfort, security, respect. You will no longer have to worry about insignificant quarrels or unnecessary struggles.

  Rose crossed his arms, her expression hardening.

  - And all this by abandoning my parents and my convictions, right? Mason, you don't understand anything about me or this city.

  Mason lost his smile.

  - This city is condemned, pink. My father controls everything, and soon there will be no one left to challenge him. Your parents ... They are courageous, but stupid. They play with fire.

  Rose hugged the fists.

  - They defend what is right, unlike you.

  Mason broke out with bitter laugh.

  - Just ? Don't be naive. The world belongs to those who take what they want. And if you think your grim goesChange anything, you are heavy heavily.

  The name of Grim had rose.

  -Grim may be imperfect, but at least he has a heart. This is not something that you or your father can understand.

  These words struck Mason as a slap, but the real slap came the next moment, when Rose raised her hand and hit her cheek.

  - Grim is worth a hundred times better than you! she launched, tears in her eyes.

  Mason, furious, grabbed his wrist, his look becoming freezing.

  - You talk about this boy as if he were a hero. But all he did is sow chaos in your life. If you don't see him, then you are as blind as him.

  Rose emerged from her grip, backing a few steps.

  -Maybe I'm blind, but at least I can recognize goodness when I see it. What I don't see, Mason is how someone can choose to become like you.

  Mason, injured in his pride, straightened up and resumed his mask of coldness.

  - Very good, pink. Do you want answers? Follow me.

  He headed for a dark alley, without waiting for his answer. Rose hesitated, but her curiosity and her need to understand the darkness of Mason pushed her to follow him. The garden, so peaceful at first, suddenly seemed to be oppressive, as if the shadows of the Whitmore observed them.Mason guided Rose through the dark trails of a dense forest near the Whitmore manor. The night, wrapped in mystery, was punctuated by disturbing rustles. Rose followed Mason forced, her trembling hands and her heart beating with everything. Whenever she asked where they were going, Mason answered her with an icy silence.

  Finally, a sinister silhouette appeared: a dilapidated warehouse in the middle of the trees. The building seemed to be abandoned, but the flickering lanterns suspended from the outdoor walls told a completely different story. A harsh smell of metal and mold floated in the air, infiltrating in rose nostrils and amplifying its discomfort.

  Upon entering, Rose felt a dismal coldness invaded all her being. The warehouse, weakly lit by suspended lanterns, projected dancing shadows on walls riddled with cracks. The sound of chains that intertwined resonated weakly, mixed with almost inhuman groans.

  Then she saw it.

  Grim was suspended by the wrists, his arms tense to the extreme. His feet touched the ground, trembling under his own weight. Her face was unrecognizable: a swollen cheek, a barely open eye, and fresh cuts traveling her skin. His shirt, formerly white, was stained with blood, and drops crashed still on the ground, forming a dark puddle.

  Rose brought a trembling hand to her mouth, stifling a cry of terror.

  Mason, with a sadistic smile, pulled a chair in the center of the room and placed it in front of Grim.

  -"Sit," he said in an authoritarian tone, while staring at her freezing gaze.

  Rose hesitated, but Mason, seeing her reluctance, leaned towards her.

  - "It's a show that I don't want you to miss. Grim, your valiant hero, deserves a little attention, right?"

  Rose, flickering legs, ends up sitting, looking at Grim. She wanted to look away, but Mason, with a sudden movement, grabbed her chin.

  -"Look at him. Look at your dear grim. This is what happens to those who get in my father ... or from me."

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Grim, despite his deplorable state, opened an swollen eye and stared at pink. His voice, weak but determined, split the air:

  - "Do not listen to it ... Rose. They are only ... tyrants. You are stronger ... than him."

  Mason burst out laughing.

  - "Do you hear that? He still believes he has power. This boy is pathetic."

  Rose, tears flowing on his cheeks, yelled on Mason:

  -"You are a monster, Mason! How can you do this? Grim did nothing fordeserve it! "

  Mason, stung to the live, approached her, her eyes burning with cold anger.

  - "Nothing done? It is because of him that you go away from me. He is the one who turns you against my family, against me! This boy is only a pebble in my shoe, a dead weight."

  Pink, the broken but fierce voice:

  -"Grim may be imperfect, but at least he has a heart. You have only hatred."

  Mason, furious, grabbed a knife placed on a nearby table and stretched it to pink.

  -"Prove it then. If you think he deserves to live, release him. But if you really want to save your precious family, ends his ordeal yourself."

  Rose, paralyzed by fear, felt the cold metal of the knife in his trembling hand. The tears obscuring her vision, she dropped the weapon, the metallic noise resonating in the oppressive silence of the room.

  Mason burst laughing, a cruel laughter devoid of soul.

  - "You are weak, pink. Just like him."

  To support his words, Mason made a sign to a guard. The man approached Grim and, without hesitation, suited him a violent punch in his stomach. Grim emitted a guttural groan, his head falling forward.

  Rose, in sobs, rushed to Grim, ignoring Mason's protests. She put a soft hand on her bloody face and whispered:

  - "I promise you ... I will find a way to get you out of here. I promise you."

  Mason, irritated by this scene, grabbed pink by the arm and forced it to get up.

  - "You are pathetic, pink. But know one thing: whatever your efforts, no one escapes from the grip of the Whitmore."

  Rose, bringing together the little courage he had left, fixed Mason straight in the eyes.

  - "If you really love me ... then release Grim."

  Mason, taken aback by his gaze full of pain and sincerity, hesitated. For a fleeting moment, a shadow of doubt crossed his face. But quickly, he resumed his mask of coldness and hugged his jaw.

  - "Don't confuse pity and love, Rose. I showed you what I can do. Next time, it will be you who will wear this burden."The warehouse was plunged into an oppressive darkness, only lit by weakly flickering lanterns. The smell of sweat, rusty metal and dried blood weighed down the atmosphere. Mason advanced calmly, holding pink by the wrist, a carnivorous smile at the corner of the lips. Behind them, Grim was still hanging, his chains emitting a sinister tingling with each movement. His breathing was laborious, and each groan made the warehouse walls vibrate.

  Rose was about to implore Mason again to stop this madness when a guttural cry split the air. Grim, drawing from what left forces, suddenly rushed towards the nearest guard. He grabbed his neck violently with his teeth, biting with such ferocity that the guard yelled, his hands trying desperately to repel Grim. But the young man, animated by an almost animal rage, did not release his catch. The blood splashed with the ground and Grim's clothes as the guard collapsed, his life died under the horrified eyes of Mason and Rose.

  Mason panic

  Mason fucked instinctively, its broken coldness facade.

  "What is this demon?", He whispered, grabbing a shelf so as not to fall.

  His mind was getting carried away. All his control had just escaped him in an instant. This warehouse, his playground, had turned into a nightmare scene.

  But Mason pride quickly resumed the upper hand. He grabbed a knife placed on a box and approached Grim.

  "You want to play the heroes, Grim? Very well. I'm going to show you what it costs."

  Grim, still attached but smiling despite the blood flowing on his chin, spat:

  "Approach, mason. Make me scare me, show me how much you are like your father. A coward."

  Furious, Mason planted the knife in Grim's shoulder, tearing a cry of pain that echoed in the warehouse.

  "Do you want to die in a martyr? Perfect. I will offer you this luxury."

  Pink, trembling, yelled:

  "Stop, Mason! You have nothing to prove!"

  Mason looked at her, the knife always planted in Grim.

  "You too, pink, do you think I'm nothing? That I am lower than this rat?"

  Grim Liberation

  While Mason turned his attention to Rose, Grim took advantage of the distractionTo assemble a violent mason kick, projecting it to the ground. Mason lost consciousness on the spot.

  "Rose! The knife!" Crossed Grim, breathless.

  Trembling but resolved, Rose rushed to grab the knife and free Grim from her chains. Her hands were shaking, but she managed to cut the ties. Grim collapsed on the ground, unable to stand up.

  "We have to leave, quickly." Burmuked pink, helping him get up.

  The flight and the forest

  The two escaped from the warehouse, Rose supporting Grim as much as she could. They sank into the dark forest, each step resonating in the oppressive silence of the night. Rose tried to reassure him, but Grim, out of strength, collapsed against a tree.

  "I can't ... I'm over, pink. Leave me here."

  "Never." She replied firmly, her shiny eyes of determination.

  In the distance, the sound of hooves was heard. The guards had found them.

  The dilemma of rose and the humiliation of Grim

  Grim, shaking the hand of rose, said to him:

  "They will capture you if you stay. Go now."

  "No. I won't let you die here, Grim."

  "Rose ...", he whispered, his broken voice. "You have a chance. Not me."

  He pushed it back slowly but firmly. Tears flowing on her cheeks, Rose backwards, disappearing in the shadows of the forest.

  When the guards arrived, the chief burst out laughing when he saw the state of Grim.

  "Look at that. Silver Creek's hero, reduced to a miserable beggar."

  One of the guards, furious at the death of his companion, sank a pistol on Grim's head.

  "You will pay for what you did."

  Grim, hard look, replied:

  "Do it. But remember that I will never fall on my knees like your master."

  The chief of the guards intervened, stopping his subordinate.

  "No. not here. Not like that. We bring him back to the warehouse. As for the girl, we're going tofind her. "

  Grim, exhausted but still provocative, spat blood on the ground.

  "You are all puppets ... and I will break your sons one by one."Rose was running, her legs arrow under the effort, but she refused to slow down. The imposing silhouette of the Whitmore manor was emerging in front of it, but behind, the thud of the horses of the horses and the cries of the pursuers resounded like a fatal echo. Each beat of her heart seemed to scream with fear and despair, but deep down, her father's words echoed:

  "Fear is not weakness. It shows you what really matters to you. Using it as a force to move forward, not as a chain to hold you back."

  Inspired by these words, she forced her legs to continue, her feet hammering the rocky soil. She turned briefly to see the guards approach, their leader in mind. Her short breath, her trembling hands, she finally threw herself on the steps of the manor, pushing the big doors with a desperate force.

  A heartbreaking welcome

  Jonathan and Margaret, sitting in the main living room, jumped with their seats when he saw her in. Rose, torn clothes, the face marked by tears and bursts of earth, almost collapsed on the ground.

  Margaret (coming, panicked): "Rose! My God, what happened to you?"

  Jonathan (tight fists): "Speak, pink. Tell me what's going on."

  Rose tried to answer, but the words were blocked in her throat, drowned by emotion. She inspired deeply, remembering her mother's advice on how to tame her fear, then finally found her voice.

  Rose (breathless): "It's Mason ... Grim is selected ... beaten ... they will kill him!"

  Jonathan immediately straightened up, his gaze becoming a blade of cold anger. He grabbed his suspended rifle near the fireplace, ready to leave. But before he could take a step, Vince Whitmore entered the room, accompanied by his wife Victoria.

  Confrontation with Vince

  Vince advanced quietly, an icy smile on her face, while Victoria was slightly behind, her eyes analyzing each movement.

  Vince (mocking): "What a dramatic entry. It looks like your daughter likes to get involved in business that doesn't look at her."

  Jonathan slowly turned to Vince, the rifle still in his hands.

  Jonathan (in a serious voice): "If you hurt Grim or my daughter, Vince, I promise you that you will regret it."

  Vince Husa an eyebrow, a sly smile always planted on his face.

  Vince: "Regret? You forget who you speak to, Jonathan. It is not you who dictates the rules here."Margaret grabbed pink by the shoulders, trying to calm her down, while Jonathan took a step forward, his rifle pointed directly to Vince.

  Jonathan (angry): "Liberates Grim. Now."

  Vince (imperturbable): "Grim is a problem, Jonathan. A problem that does not deserve a solution. And you, you should control your daughter before she became another problem."

  Chaos breaks out

  Jonathan, at the end, armed his rifle, but before he could shoot, a gunshot sounds. His hand let go of the weapon, a net of blood flowing from his affected abdomen. Behind him, the chief of the guards had just entered, his weapon still smoking.

  Chef (coldly): "You made a mistake, Campbell."

  Margaret gave a cry when she saw her injured husband, while Vince broke out with a sound laugh.

  Vince (sarcastic): "Oh, Jonathan. Always ready to play the heroes. But you forget that the heroes always end up falling."

  Jonathan, despite the pain, straightened up. With a force born of anger, he grabbed a rescue revolver at his belt and quickly pulled, slaughtering two guards who tried to approach.

  Margaret (screaming): "Jonathan, stop! We have to leave!"

  Jonathan (in a hoarse voice): "Not before you are safe, Margaret. Take Rose and leave."

  The last resistance

  Margaret, in tears, grabbed pink by the hand and led her towards the exit. But another shot sounded, and Margaret was crying by collapsing, touched in the leg. Rose rushed to help him, but Jonathan, seeing the danger, rushed into the chief of the guards.

  A brutal fight broke out between the two men, each fighting to take the advantage. Jonathan, although injured, ended up disarming the chief and shot him in the head.

  Rose, petrified, could not look away from the carnage. Jonathan turned to her, her face marked by pain but also by a fierce determination.

  Jonathan (weakly): "Pars, pink. Protect your mother and keep yourself away from here."

  Rose (in tears): "Dad, I can't leave you!"

  Jonathan: "It's an order. Protects our family."The end of Jonathan

  While Rose was out of the way, Jonathan dying was facing Vince one last time. Vince, always calm, slowly walking among the bodies, a pistol in hand.

  Vince (with a cruel smile): "Look at what you did, Jonathan. All this blood ... for nothing."

  Jonathan (breathless): "You will never win, Vince. No matter how many lives you will destroy, you will finish alone and hated."

  Vince Husa with his shoulders, pointed out his weapon and pulled, ending Jonathan's life.

  A shock for pink

  From a distance, Rose heard the shot. She turned around, but Margaret pulled her forward, begging her to continue. Tears sank on Rose's face, her heart broken by her father's loss and the horror of what she had experienced.

  That day, something changed in her. The world she knew had just collapsed, and a new flame of revolt had just been born.The night was cold, the breath of the freezing wind biting the skin of rose and margaret when they ran through the dense forest. The imposing trees formed an obscure vault, as if nature itself sought to hide them from their pursuers. But each step seemed to resonate too hard, each breath too audible in the silent immensity of the woods.

  Margaret leaned heavily on Rose, his injured leg making each movement more painful. She was trying to hide her groans so as not to alarm her daughter more.

  - "You can't stop, mom," rose, with a trembling voice.

  - "I know, my darling. Continue ... Don't look behind you."

  However, Rose could not help throwing nervous looks over her shoulder. The flickering lanterns of the guards and the noise of the hooves on the earth approached.

  Fear and memory

  Rose's face was bathed in tears, but she tried to pull herself up. His father's words echoed in his mind:

  "Fear is not weakness. It shows you what really matters to you."

  These words, which had once seemed to be simple advice, now took all their meaning. Fear paralyzed her, but she couldn't let her mother see this weakness.

  -"Dad would have wanted to get out of it," she whispered to convince herself.

  - "And that's what we are going to do," replied Margaret, putting a trembling hand on her daughter's shoulder.

  A frantic chase

  Suddenly, a cry pierced darkness.

  - "They are there! Here!"

  Rose felt her heart stopped for a moment. The guards had spotted them. She firmly grabbed her mother's hand and accelerated.

  The branches scratched their faces and clothes. Margaret stumbled, dropping a moan of pain, but Rose raised it immediately.

  - "Don't stop, mom!"

  The noise of hooves were dangerously closer. Rose could hear the laughs of the guards, their cruel voices overflowing with insurance.

  -"Catch them alive. Vince wants to see that himself!"

  An unexpected meeting

  While they led to a clearing bathed by the light of the moon, a lonely rider appeared in the distance. He stopped his horse by seeing them.

  Rose felt a mixture of hope and fear. Was it an ally or an enemy?Help us, I beg you! "Shouted Margaret, desperate.

  The man, dressed in a worn coat, slowly descended from his horse. It was Jessy, who came back to deliver a cargo for Geovane.

  -"Who are you? Why are you going like that?" he asked, suspicious.

  Pink attempt to explain, breathless:

  -"Men ... they want to kill us ... they arrive! Help us, I beg you!"

  Jessy looked around, then held out his hand to Margaret to help him get on his horse.

  - "Go up, I know a safe place."

  A leak against time

  The three fugitives engulfed again in the forest, but this time, Jessy led the charge. He knew the woods like his pocket, and his horse, fast and enduring, gave them a step ahead.

  - "Who are you right?" Jessy asked, taking a look at Margaret.

  -"It doesn't matter," she replied, shortly breath. "But these men are dangerous. If you help us, you risk your life."

  Jessy shrugged.

  - "I know the Whitmore. I know what they are capable of. And I will not let innocent die."

  Suddenly, a shot sounds, splitting the night air. Rose pushed a cry, but Jessy had them plunged into a narrower path to avoid being seen.