Time Ghost

Chapter 50

If I got awakened in Marcel Dubois’ body, it should become news for most people. I have been hit upon by rigorous amount of electricity in many occasions already. The last time I’ve had myself taken down by the lightning, the presidential staff gotten panicked and drive myself into the nearest hospital they could find.

No repercussions under the skin. I sensed no wounds upon the vessel’s body. More or less, it seemed that some people could actually perceive them and witnessed its abrupt presence that appeared.

“Ugh...”

Smooth-woven silk adorned under his bottom. The young scientist heard shallow hubbub in the distance. Paintings of a knight decorated the northeastern wing of the room. From front-side perspective, most would determine them as a scaredy-cat due to its walk-away against the flow. A few footmen soldiers were vying for the knight’s fall from the horse it has been ridden with. Spears were raised against the shield, yet none of them are fatal for the horse-rider inbound.

“So, at least nobody saw me. It’s a good relief.” Marcel Dubois rubbed his chest, then mumbled,”Where’s my wife?”

He looks across the rest of spaces upon the bed. Someone was concealed under the blanket. Her breath reverberates against the well-studded cover before the face. No hints for the woman’s feet around the bottom side, or even a sketch of her existence thereof. The President determines someone was resting under the layer of silk by mere conjecture of such person beneath.

I have two theories on this one.

It’s either his wife, Samantha, or someone else I have been seeing for some time in this body. His unfaithful self appeared not hesitate for another stint of mischievous relationship to flourish. It has been deprived off forbidden love, I can experience his shudder in the beginning of my entrance into the body.

~flap~

A blonde woman in her youth strikes him up the guts. She wears none other than a string-like fabric upon the chest area. For a flower to blossom, the President of Naulus could see them overflowing outside its presumed territory and piling up on each other like a sand-filled ransack in construction site.

“It’s all pink. I wonder how much our filthy President has taste.” Marcel Dubois muttered as the President rubbed his chin out of curiosity,”Well, time to dress up before I got myself hardened.”

“You’ve waken up, baby.”

An adorable moan writhed from the woman. One of her eyes opens a little for looking at the man’s position, then chuckled when captured a stoic wood under the waist,” You’re still wanted a round, honey? I’m tired.” She laid down another whisper within her breath.

“Nah, it’s not about the flame, Natalie. It’s daily habits for us to sniff our partners in the morning.”

Marcel Dubois yawned,” What’s the schedule for today, sweetie?”

~hop~

Natalie leaps forward, secured herself ahead of the President and swiftly run past him for reaching the toilet nearby. She shuts the door down for privacy in spite of their one-night affair they have been doing until now. For five whole minutes, the old man has to wait in queue before the toilet. He was holding his own stomach to block any leakage down bottom. The second man in the room eventually blows himself out from stringent phase of masculinity. No real woman in close proximity to the President, only a white-colored cabinet across the side and the light-brown door knob that separated him from Natalie inside.

~gurgle-gurgle~

It is the second row for his abdomen to lay down their protest. Marcel Dubois sits on the side of the bed for averting the ache inwards,“Hey, I’m gonna burst. Be-“

~bam~

Before the President could carry on with another complaint, Natalie walks out from the toilet by doing a somersault ahead of the man’s throbbing stomach. The blonde-haired woman then pulled him into the toilet subsequently afterwards. By the sudden force of pressure she mounted on the top, Marcel Dubois could hide them no longer.

The horde of toxic gas culminated under the scrotum finally explodes.

~brrt~

“What the heck, Marcel?”

Natalies’ eyes turned narrow in disgust. On the other hand, the President could only curl himself and bent down in humiliation. Putrid smell emerges and permeated the room with its foul content. The blonde-haired woman clenched her nose shut to clear out the reek, yet it still far stronger than her grasp to ward off such vapor in the air.

“I think I’m shitting myself a bit, Natalie. Could you find me a new underpants?”

The President murmured in reserved manner. His eyes tried to skip the nasty part of the trouble by closing itself in advance, yet no hints of smell would be obstructed against the five senses if Marcel Dubois shuttered one that should be useless ahead of the element proposed.

A President was shitting himself in his bedroom. Nobody would want to hear such outrageous story, unless if a pesky journalist could barge in and snap a picture of my less-presentable self in an unexpected manner.

---

Ten minutes later, the President has finished his battle against himself under the crotch. Natalie has prepared a new underwear outside. No giggles in her thoughts, only sickened impression that was unearthed by the somber ambience in the President’s bedroom. Automatic air freshener has showered the bed with its fragrance. Yet, it still incapable for diminishing the smell in a whole.

“Let’s see what should we do for today.”

Confidential documents at the front marked its importance ahead of anyone who wanted to take a glance. The President has them for guidance and to-do lists of the day. Each file represents several departments’ recent activities and matters to be resolved. Secretary of war will always stated herself at the initial page of the document, followed by intelligence derived off the national agency for certain aspects of defensive amenities and security issues that needed immediate undertake soon.

Hmm, no words from the congress about my peaceful proposition. Could be the actual Marcel Dubois’ part in this situation for some reason. Neil Rudolph has shown me interest on being the spearhead of military and dipping Jamie Krueger out of the pecking order. Holden Fischer would have a grudge against me in a way, for the man to oppose my diplomatic order so bad in the past.

I guess it’s time for my cease-fire agenda to begin.