The cold muzzle of the gun pressed against Avery's forehead, indenting its print into the surface of his skin. Bounded with metal rope, his wrist strained against the wired material, in his best attempts to break free. He stood on his knees, his back pressed against the stone-cut marble columns and his head hanging low.
Governor Ozias nudged his chin up with the barrel., "You shouldn't look down in your last moments. Keep your stubborn pride, right up until the moment you die. It'll be more admirable when they write about you in the papers."
With his head still low, Avery glared up. The golden glow of his eyes shone even through the dark, overgrown curls that hung over his forehead.
He chuckled, bitter and quiet.
"...Yeah? And what your capitalist ass knows about pride? You've never needed any. Everything you ever had was spoon-fed, with the world's finest silver."
"You and I are more alike than you think, Avery, whether you like it or not. We both did some sick stuff to get where we are, but look at us now! We're both natural-born leaders; we happen to be on opposite sides of the coin. And perhaps things could've remained that way; had you accepted my deal."
Avery's lips curled into a defiant smile.
"I'd rather make a deal with the devil himself."
"You did the moment you met that girl. And to think if you'd minded your business day, you would've been living a normal life, living off your scholarships and a half decent education."
Avery's expression hardened.
"Keep her name out of your mouth."
The pistol smacked Avery in the cheek, whipping his head to the side.
The taste of iron swished around in his mouth.
"I'll say whatever the hell I want. And you wait until I get my hands on her; because when I do, you'll be rolling in your grave."
Avery collected his saliva in his mouth, then spat the bloody substance on the pearly white floors beneath him, where the Governor stood.
"You can keep dreamin'."
The Governor adjusted his bloodied white suit; his finest attire was stained from the battle only moments prior. A perverse satisfaction crept into his smile as he returned the gun to Avery's temple. His finger hovered over the trigger, not trembling from fear but anticipation.
"I'll say whatever the hell I want," Ozias growled. "And when I get my hands on her... you'll be rotting in your grave."
Avery spat, the crimson streak landing on the Governor's polished white floor.
"You can keep dreaming."
Ozias glanced down at his blood-smeared suit, his finest, now stained from the battle. A perverse satisfaction crept into his smile as he returned the gun to Avery's temple. His finger hovered over the trigger, trembling—not from fear, but anticipation.
"Tell me something," he asked. "In your final moments... do you regret it? If you could go back, would you do it all again?"
Avery froze. His lips parted slightly. He hadn't expected that.
"Would I do it again...?"