13.1 Power

Night had fallen for some time on the large traditional house. It had enveloped the building in its black cloak and plunged its inhabitants into the torpor of its darkness. Only lit by the subdued lights of the balloon lamps lined up at regular intervals in the corridors, the intimate atmosphere that reigned was tinged with a shadow of mystery that spiced up this too-quiet picture with a slight tension. In the distance, one could hear the muffled moans of an unfortunate man being beaten, the only noise that disturbed the silence of the night.

In a small, windowless room, three men were taking turns beating a man in his forties who was trying to protect himself as best he could, but without much success. His face was swollen and blood was pouring from his lips, which had been split open by the repeated beatings.