Chapter Text
Blaring lights, loud music, and people packed like sardines in a hot warehouse - That’s what Player was greeted with when he entered the venue. His fleece lined jacket made him sweat already from the thick air, but still he kept his hood up. His tongue played with the piercing in his lip rhythmically as he shoved through the crowd - only stopping to dig into his pocket to pull out a flier. Stairs, he needed to find stairs, the game was being held on the second level. Putting it away, through the lights and commotion, he started to take notice of metal stairs hugging the walls of the building, leading all the way up to an outpost. His body pushed and shoved through to finally reach the start of the stairs. The first flight was drowned out by music, but his slow accent started to weaken it until he could only hear his shoes hitting metal - the club's ambiance being only background noise now.
The balcony high above had the misfortune of collecting all the hot air from below. It was muggy, humid, and stunk of cigarettes - his attention drawn from below to the man leaning against the railing, smoking as he looked out. It was dark up here, hard to make out his face, only capturing some of his features from the glow of the strobe lights below. Player seemed to finally be noticed, only given a quick glance as the stranger cleared his throat.
*
“You here for the game?”
Voice was tired, maybe even bored as his head gestured to the door to his left.
“He’s in that room.”
Player’s voice was caught in his throat, all that preparation and still he felt like he was already getting cold feet. He turned to look at the other side of the balcony, a bathroom meeting his gaze.
“I... I need a second.”
“Take your ti-”
*
The stranger's voice was cut by Player pulling himself into the restroom, stumbling into a stall as he sat on the toilet. His fingers messed with the silver cross adorning his neck, the only valuable thing he hasn’t lost. His foot tapped the dirty floor as he tried to calm himself down.
‘Win up to 70,000 grand. Life or death game.’
He’d only heard rumors about this venue that did a special form of Russian Roulette, with a cash prize that not only would pull him out of shits creek - but be enough to start his life over. When he found the flier, he was at the lowest point in his life: Laying in an alley way he’d been in there after being beaten bloody from the loan sharks he owed. He only had but so many chances, and that was his last. Player was given a week to cough up 50K and if he failed, he’d be killed and his body would be used for organ trafficking. It was raining, his body bruised, marks on his neck from rope burn, convulsing for a while as he wallowed in the hell of his own making. When he finally was able to prop himself up, he had to use the brick wall of a shoddy drug store - his arm pushing against a paper on it. His vision was blurry, but when he came too, he saw it. A game, the game - one that only had whispers about it in circles across the city. With a cash prize that could change any penniless fool's life - this was Player’s only lifeline.
He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, the faint thumping of club music barely making it to the bathroom. This was the quietest this place was going to get. He knew his options were bad: Either play a game with his life on the line or die and pieces of his body be spread around the whole city. The choice between a possible death and definite death, he couldn’t back down now, not after he spent the past two days trying to locate the damn place. For the first time, he stopped moving, stopped fidgeting, stopped thinking. This wasn’t a situation he could think about, he needed to just go. Standing, he finally left the stall, standing at the mirror as his hands squeezed the sides of the sink.
Strained eyes lingered on himself - all he could think was how much of a mess he looked. An old blood stain somehow stood out on his half tucked red button up, his face was gaunt - he didn’t even have the time to eat today. He turned the sink on, pushing his hood off as he splashed his face with water. His hair stuck out every which way - short unkempt blackish brown hair that flared out wildly as cold water hit him. His life was on the line no matter which option he’d choose, only this one gave him a possibility of living. As the water was cut off, he was left once again with just the muffled noise of the club outside. He took a deep breath, silently touching his cross necklace, he gave it a soft kiss from his cracked lips as he finally made his way back to the door.
In an instant, he was back on the balcony. The smoking stranger is still at his post, only slightly turning his head towards Player before minding his business once more. He crossed past the man and made it to the door on the other side, it’s too late to back out now - He pushed it open and finally went into the room. There he was greeted by a table, akin to maybe a ping-pong table? It had markings on it and a strange machine attached to it on the right. His eyes slowly dragged up to the other figure in the room - a portly bald man with what looked to be no eyes, in a black turtle neck, legs kicked up and crossed on the table, between his lips a lit cigarette. Seems he was browsing a magazine before Player came in. As soon as the other did, however, the man's expression turned to a crooked grin. He had sharp, inhuman teeth - like he had nails or pins to replace them. He pulled himself down, putting away his readings before grabbing something under the table. Soon enough, he tossed a device to Player, butting out his cigarette on the table before finally speaking.
*
"Please sign the waiver."
*
His voice was deep, gravely, polite and yet- unnerving. Like he’s done this a million times, Player finally picked up the thing only to realize it was a contract. The device connected to it was a system to input a name. The text was small print, but was a basic ‘don’t sue if you live’ type form. The longer Player stood, the more real things became. His thumbs pressing keys to type out ‘Player’ before placing it back down, the man's arm reaching to grab it. His eyes - if you could call them that - moved to Player with a slight change in expression.
*
“This your government name?”
“It’s the only one I’ve known.”
That was the best answer he could give, his eyes wandering around the room.
“Do you have a name?”
A tear cut into the brief silence, Players eyes darting right back to the man, the sound almost making him flinch. The man had ripped the waver from the device, placing both under the table in their own separate quarters.
“You can just refer to me as the Dealer.”
Dealer. That’s all he got from him. Better than nothing, there probably isn’t much talking in a game like this. The Dealer reached from under his side, finally pulling out what they’d be using. A 12-gauge pump-action shotgun loudly clattered on the table, Dealer cracking his neck as he gestured to the seat in front of Player.
“Sit.”
A simple, yet commanding phrase. Player moved to finally sit down, not that he’d be able to stay up after seeing what they were playing with. This really wasn’t a normal Russian roulette game, this was certain death for the losing party. A click came from the Dealer’s side, the machine attached to the table coming to life. It showed two sides, one saying ‘Dealer’ and the other ‘Player’. Two bolts of lightning were under the names as the Dealer’s nail tapped against the device.
“These are your lives. Lose em’ all in a round, and you’re dead.”
Two lives? How could he even survive one shot from this monstrosity? Before anything could be asked, the table whirled up again, opening a chamber that showed an array of shells: One live, two blanks. The Dealers hand danced over them.
“These show what’s going into the gun. They’ll be placed in a random order.”
It was like clockwork, the man loaded the shells into the shotgun with speed and precision. His gaze never leaving Player, the gun was loudly dropped on the table. He couldn’t stop himself from shuttering, Dealer’s mouth tugging a small smirk.
“You go first. You can either shoot me, or yourself. If you shoot yourself with a blank, you get another turn. If you shoot me with a blank, it’s my turn. Any live round shot will go to the next person's turn... Unless you have a certain item.”
Player’s eyes were locked on the gun as the Dealer continued.
“For this round however, we’ll only be relying on luck.”
*
Sweat dripped from his head down to his chin, this gun was loaded, and he was first. Shaky hands brushed against the barrel of the gun, slowly making it into Player’s hands as he held it. It had a sickening weight to it, its metal frame and body against sweaty palms - he wondered if he could even shoot this thing. Either shoot himself or Dealer, his eyes dragged back up to the other man, who sat with bated breath - licking his lips just watching him. Two blank shells, and one live... He had a two thirds chance that he’d not shoot himself - but that meant he had the daunting task of pointing this thing at himself. Taking a breath, he steadied himself, his hands quivering around the gun's shaft as he placed the barrel against his chin. The music of the club sounded like a heartbeat from this room, syncing with his own racing pulse. The Dealer watched him, with a look of pure excitement - the game had begun.
Player’s finger lingered on the trigger for a short while before finally...
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Click!
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He opened his eyes, almost panting, cocking the gun as the blank flew onto the table - it was a blank, it really was a blank! He felt dizzy from adrenaline, and yet the Dealers face never changed. Player almost forgot his turn wasn’t over, looking at the man - an air of unease washed over his body, that excitement on his face felt violating. Quickly, Player pointed the gun at Dealer, the other not even flinching. Fifty-fifty chance this could be a live round. Fifty-fifty chance it's not. He couldn’t risk himself like that, his finger pressing against the trigger, he closed his eyes and pulled once again...
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Click!
|
*
“Fuck.”
*
What little color he had drained from his face, Player’s hands shaking. It was blank - Both rounds were blank. He was unlucky. It felt magnetic how the gun left his hand, even if he wanted to hold it and never let go, it already was in the Dealers hands. He pumped the shotgun as the final blank of the round was released from the gun, a small hum coming from him - his sharp teeth in full view from his smile. He wasted no time pointing that gun to Player, his eyes shut, he gripped the cross once more - hard enough to leave an imprint in his hand. Silently he prayed. At least he wouldn’t be sold. At least he could rest. At least he coul-
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BANG!
|
His head was caught in his hood, his vision turning black instantly.
A flash of a metal gate greeted his view, only a glimpse was caught before electricity shot through his body.
Sitting up - Player was alive again as he took a sharp inhale.
*
“W-What the fuck? What happened? H-How!?”
The Dealer looked as if he was holding back laughter, cocking the gun as the live’s shell clinked against the table.
“In this room, things work differently than the real world. You’ll learn soon enough.”
*
The table beeped, one of Player’s bolts now gone, now leaving him with one. One more life. This was a bad start - an extremely bad start, his luck was slipping out from under him. He had no time to rationalize his situation as the table’s chambers opened up to show: Two lives, Three blanks, loaded as quickly as the last by Dealers hand. The shotgun pushed to Player once again, looks like he always starts this.
His hands were sweaty, grasping the gun with shaky hands, holding the metal frame as his hand slid against the gun's shaft. Things worked differently here. He had to tell himself that, Player just trying to keep himself from breaking down. There were more bullets in the gun now - more than what he thought a gun like this could fit, more chances to fuck up. Would it be a good start to point it at himself? What if it was live? He didn’t know what the order was, and that begged the question - did Dealer know? Things worked differently here. If he shot the Dealer and it was blank, he’d have another fifty-fifty whether he lived or died... But if he shot himself then-
|
Tap Tap Tap
\
The Dealer's nail tapped on the table, pulling Players attention off the gun.
*
“Hey, we don’t have all day.”
He looked at Player with a sort of amusement, maybe even hunger - despite seeming to not have eyes, this man’s gaze was constantly locked on him.
“This isn’t even the fun part.”
*
Dealer let out a chuckle, it was wet - probably from a man who's been smoking all his life. It had a growl to it, it made the room feel so much smaller from the space it took. It made Player shake and hold the gun even tighter. Maybe it was from being fucked with one to many times or the pressure to choose, but he pointed the gun back to the Dealer and fired.
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BANG!
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The shot rang through the room, knocking the wind out of Player. The recoil almost tossed him out of his seat. The Dealers laugh was silenced after the shot, the gun's power on full display as his massive body was knocked back into the darkness behind him. It was a bright light, the one he saw before it all went black before, but this time he was there to see what it could truly do. Wheels rolled against the tile floor, the Dealers chair moving back to the spot lights, his head hung back. As he finally pulled himself back up, Player got to witness the gun's damage. What was once a crooked smile of jagged teeth was now broken, his jaw was shifted as his pin teeth looked bent out, mouth ripped open slightly to show a grimace. He bled, but it didn’t look like blood, it was black and thick as it leaked out his mouth like oil. The table beeped as one of the Dealers bolts disappeared. One life each, equal match. Dealer gave a bubbling cough, spitting some of the liquid onto the table, his breathing was much more noticeable - louder even.
*
“Well, aren’t you lucky.”
*
His tone was sarcastic, cracking his neck again, stretching a little and acting as if his entire jaw wasn’t just rearranged. Dealers hand reached out and the gun was soon removed from Player’s grasp, him pumping the gun to release the live shell. He pointed it at himself, pulling the trigger without hesitation.
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Click!
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Blank, he racked the gun again to unload the shell - Player bracing himself, but the Dealer didn’t move the barrel at all.
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Click!
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Player sat wide eyed, staring at Dealer in silence. Two empty shells were on the table now, all that's left in the gun was one live and one blank. The Dealer moved the barrel from his chin and pointed it straight to Player, his dripping mouth twisting into a stretched smile.
*
“How lucky do you feel now?”
*
His eyes darted around, Dealer was fucking with him - keeping the gun trained on him, his thick finger pressing against the trigger. He was dead, he was so dead. All Player could think of is how fucked he was, the Dealer had to have known, he had to-
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Click!
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Empty shell. Before he could even finish his thought, he was saved by chance. Dealer only let a small snicker out - if you could even call it that - cocking the gun. Placing the gun down, he moved it right back to Player. Only one live round in the chamber... He won! Player couldn’t tell if it was excitement or adrenaline that was making him feel like this, but his heart was racing. He took the gun, pointing it to the Dealer, bracing himself for the recoil - his finger slowly pressed down.
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BANG!
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It was so loud, louder than any of the club's music or people - it gave Player temporary tinnitus as high pitched ringing followed the blinding light of the gun. The Dealer was out of view, rolled in the dark after he took another shot to the head, Player hadn’t even noticed he was sprayed by the others blood. A closer look at it made it seem more brown then black, with a red tinge to it. Splatter hit his arms and face, clinging to his skin like oil - The more he saw this the more it looked like oil. Player sure as shit wasn’t going to smell it or taste it to confirm the matter, using his sleeve to wipe himself, he racked the gun as the empty live shell was ejected. The Dealers final bolt went out just like that - but it seemed things were far from over.
From the dark, the first thing Player saw was his hands gripping the table, the Dealer pulling himself back from darkness. His face was as fucked as before, maybe a little worse. The table came back to life, the LED screen flashing: “Player WON”.
It was followed by icons ‘I’, ‘II’, and the final round having a skull and cross. Seemed he’d gotten himself to round two. The skull icon loomed in his head, but he had to keep himself calm. A warped, jagged smile was somewhat able to be formed on the Dealers ripped up face - His hands gripping the edge of the table hard before one left to go under the table.
*
“Let’s make this a little more interesting.”
Seems he pressed something as the table began to shift, more hidden compartments revealing itself: A grid with four spaces on each side, and a box that seemed to have no end.
“Two items each. More items for each load.”
Player looked down at the box, seemed things were going to become a lot more complicated. Quietly, he reached in, not feeling anything but his hands gripping the handle to something - pulling out a magnifying glass. He placed it in one of the spaces before reaching in once again. This box was weirdly cold, empty, as if he pulled these things from a void. Pulling his hand out revealed a Digita beer, a luxury he hadn’t had in a while. What was he even supposed to do with these? Before Player even had the chance to open his mouth, the Dealer spoke up.
“Don’t worry, you’ll know exactly what to do when you touch those items.”
*
Touch? Didn’t he just grab them? The tables compartment swallowed the box, LED screen coming back to show the counter. This time they both had four lives, the ammo compartment opening to show: One live, one blank. Same deal, same actions, the gun ending right back in his court - this time with the bonus stains of blood scattered on its side. Player glanced at Dealers items: Handcuffs and cigarettes, his eyes moving back to his own. Touch them? His hand moved over the magnifying glass's handle, as soon as his finger touched it, the words came to his head.
‘If I break this, I’m allowed to check the current round in the chamber’
That was something he could do??? Why couldn’t they just start with items?! Player was quick to grab the glasses handle before slamming it into the table, breaking it as he picked the gun up. He checked the casing, his actions felt like something he’s done all his life. A blank. This was perfect, his movement quick as he pointed the barrel to himself.
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Click!
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racked gun, shell out, pointed at Dealer. This must’ve been a practice round for how easy this was.
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BANG!
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Another loud shot rang through the room, the Dealer thrown back as he slowly but surely dragged himself back. A single bolt leaving his side as he coughed up a bit of the ooze that leaked from him. Player racked the gun, feeling just a tinge cocky as he scoffed.
*
“You alright taking three shots to the face, or do you need a break?”
“I’ve taken more loads than you could even imagine, boy.”
*
Dealers words still had an air to them, despite Player's slight complex - he was quickly quieted down from the others words. Maybe if the man across from him wasn’t a literal monster, he could keep his confidence... But it seems the rules of this world worked far differently in this devil's room.
The box came back up, more items to grab from the new loadout. Reaching in, Player grabbed a pair of handcuffs and- He paused when he reached in again, his fingers grasping at what felt like paper. Pulling it out, he saw it was a waiver, the same waiver he signed earlier - bloody and with the name at the bottom reading ‘GOD’. It was like a vacuum, snatching the paper right back into the box, Player glanced at Dealer who only gave a small huff - As if he really wasn’t meant to see that... He swallowed quietly, not wanting to comment and he reached back in, pulling out something he hadn't seen yet, a hand saw. There was more to this, more than Player ever thought. New shells were revealed from the table: Two live, two blank. Dealer snatched them and loaded them in before the gun was given to him. Player had a variety of items to use now, starting to understand how things worked here. His hand touched the beer.
|
‘If I drink this, I can rack the shotgun and eject the current shell.’
Then he moved to the cuffs.
‘I can put them on the Dealer, and he’ll skip his next turn.’
Finally to the hand saw.
‘I can saw off the top of the shotgun and do double the damage.’
|
Player felt at least some sort of grasp on his situation, the items making it feel a little less like luck and more like skill. He could use an item - or save it for later... Another fifty-fifty chance, this seems to be common in this game. He decided to grab the gun, aiming it at himself, what wisps of beard hair he had brushing against cold metal that pushed under his chin. This will take a while to get used to. But he could do it, he did it before, he-
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BANG!
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A live round tore through his face, his hood doing the heavy lifting to not get his brain matter everywhere - black filled his view, gray following it.
A cold breeze brushed his ear, he could smell metal - it all smelled like rust and metal.
Electricity shot through him, he was back in one piece, the table beeping as a bolt left his side. Three lives each. The gun left his grasp once again, back onto the Dealers side. This was the first round in a while the other had the gun on his side. Player swallowed quietly, he wasn’t the only one with items - Dealer reached to grab the handcuffs before standing up. Player hadn’t realized his size till then, Dealer was definitely wide, but he also was toweringly tall. This room almost felt too small for someone like him to exist in, his steps beating against the tiled floor to move by his side. He sat frozen, looking up at the monstrosity that stood before him - not willing to make any wrong moves. The Dealers hands were swift despite their size, pushing up Player’s fleeced sleeve as the cold cuffs wrapped around his wrists. His hands were massive, easily wrapping around his wrist with a single hand, thick - almost sticky fingers holding him still with a vice grip. He was cuffed, Player’s eyes moving down to look at them before back at Dealer.
*
“Whats wrong? Cat got your tongue?”
Player was silent, any confidence he once had melted away at the other man's touch. He was so fucked. The Dealer moved back on his side, sitting down on his chair. But he wasn’t done, grabbing the cigarette pack, opening them with ease. He pulled a cigarette out, tossing the mostly full box to the ground - it seems they’re only allowed to smoke one each. He pulled a lighter from under his table, lighting it as he dragged on it. A cloud of smoke left his lips, if Player could even see them at that - The Dealers mouth couldn’t even properly close at this point, the cigarette being held by sharp teeth.
“I wonder, why did you decide to come here, Player?”
He was caught off guard by the sudden small talk, the cuffs clinking slightly as his body shifted. Player cleared his throat, feeling the Dealers ‘eyes’ locked onto him.
“I... I owe a lot of money to people.”
Player jolted a little as another phlegmy wet laugh came from the Dealers mouth, the cigarette held in place as it seemed the filter was stabbed onto one of his pins.
“Well that ain’t uncommon here! I’m guessing a few shady loan sharks own you right now?”
He swallowed, not answering, Dealer leaning back in his chair - knowing he was right.
“You’re not the first, you’re not the last.”
*
Finishing the last of the cigarette, he spat out the filter from his maw - the table beeping as his one missing bolt came right back. It was a healing item? Any progress made by Player was lost, Dealer racked the gun as the live he shot himself with tinked out. He pointed the gun to Player, eyes closed as he held his breath.
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Click!
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The gun was racked, an empty shell ejected. The handcuffs on Players hand squeezed against his pale skin, old bruises from rope used to kidnap him before being agitated. His turn was skipped, Dealer getting another round to shoot, with eyes closed - Player braced himself.
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BANG!
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This was the third time experiencing death, blackness followed by a light.
White skyline, with dust in the air, rust pungent. And there were... Birds?
Back with a shock, he breathed in - Maybe he really was getting used to this... Table beeped, another bolt gone - the cuffs on his wrists instantly letting go without any struggle on his part. Only two lives left, while the Dealer still had all four - fucked once again. The gun went right back into his hands, knowing that all that was left was a single blank. Player pointed the gun to himself, shooting to unload the blank as another round was started.
The box came up, sticking his hand right in to pull out his two items. First another magnifying glass, and the next - another hand saw. He had a decent amount of things to work with, the next round of shells revealing themselves: two live, four blank... Player starts, looking over his options. The majority of this load out was blanks, he had an advantage of having an abundance of items... Formulating his thoughts, he finally grabbed his own handcuffs - after witnessing how good they were. Grabbing them, he looked to the Dealer as he waited - seemed he’d have to go over there himself.
For the first time since getting here, Player stood, the events of this day making his legs a little wobbly - probably from the fact he had his brains splattered numerous times. He slowly moved over to the Dealers side, getting a glimpse behind his side of the table - switches and buttons under it, but were quickly covered by Dealer shifting his body over, putting his hands together.
*
“Don’t be shy, put 'em on. I probably won't bite ‘ya.”
*
A swallow was all Player could muster, the Dealers attention all on him as he placed one cuff at a time, it was only able to do two clicks worth before they were tight around his thick wrists. Player just kept his eyes on Dealers hands, not wanting to meet face to face with the man staring at him excitedly.
He quickly moved back to his seat, he only had one mistake before it’d go back to the Dealer's turn, he had to make it count. Looking at Dealer’s side, the other had a beer and another cigarette pack... Even if he didn’t finish the other off, he wouldn’t be completely screwed. Looking at his items, he grabbed the beer - cracking it open. God he needed this, throwing his head back to drink it. Cheapest beer money can buy, not great, but definitely took the edge off. Player would be able to get one bullet out, cocking the gun as an unused blank clattered out the gun. Next move, he grabbed the magnifying glass - breaking it on the table before checking the current round: A live shell. Perfect. He felt like he was on auto pilot as he grabbed the hand saw, pressing it on the edge of the shotgun... How the hell was this going to cut the barrel? He began to saw into the metal, oddly enough only taking a good few saws before the thing split, almost like cutting into wood. He held the sawed off shotgun, pointing it at Dealer - who only looked amused.
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BANG!
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This had much more of a kick then the normal, actually knocking him off the seat. He was able to pick himself up quickly, Dealer lost in the darkness. He racked the gun to remove the empty shell, placing the gun down - his body shaking. Before his eyes, the gun’s barrel phased right back onto the gun - from thin air. Things worked differently here. Any time Player questioned things, this mantra would pop right back into his head. Things are different here. His thoughts were interrupted by the Dealer finally pulling himself back, his cuffed hands covered in the brownish, reddish blood - his face worse for wear. Half of his mouth was ripped all through the right side of his cheek, exposing more sharp pins that jutted all over, making no more sense where they point. He hacked up a laugh, pulling his wrists apart to jingle the cuffs.
*
“You still have another turn~”
*
His voice was gurgly, but so excited, so enthralled in it all. The table beeped and two of the four bolts were gone from Dealers side. Equal match to one and other, with one live and two blanks. If he didn’t kill the Dealer, he’d probably have to go through another load out - and the man might get some better items then him. There had to be a way to try and end this... Player only had one item, the second hand saw. Weighing the options, he took a few breaths - risk comes with reward. He picked up the gun before pointing it at himself. He couldn’t die this round, even if he did shoot himself again. But if he didn’t, and it was blank - he could try to saw off the barrel and gamble another double shot for the win... He just needs to pull the trigger and-
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Click!
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Cocking the gun spat out a blank. One live, one blank. Better odds now then ever. Player grabs his last item, the hand saw, cutting into the barrel with some ease to create the sawed off. His heart was racing, his vision was throbbing, his head was pounding... He took the gamble.
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BANG!
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And won.
His bracing did help him from being thrown out his seat once again, cocking the barrel as the live shell came out... More blood splatter graced his body from the Dealer, the table making noise as his last two bolts disappeared. LED screen flashing ‘Player WON’. He watched as the round moved from ‘II’ to the skull as Dealer finally pulled himself back out from the dark. His face only getting more ripped as time went on, he easily ripped his hands apart as the cuffs broke right off. It almost looked like plastic the way he just broke them with ease - his smile wild, he was giddy...
*
“At long last, we arrive at the final showdown.”
His nails dug into the table, almost as if he wanted to pounce on Player, grab him - tell him face to face - be closer to each other...
“No more defibrillators. No more blood transfusions.”
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Snap
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One of his nails cracked against the table, dragging back as if it was nothing to him.
“Now, me and you, we’re dancing on the edge of life and death."
*
His hand went under, something was triggered as a separate mechanism began to come up from under the table. Its screen came to life, a brief connection made as a piece of the device began to move towards the table. Player watched as the machine revealed its rusty shears, opening up as it moved under the wires connected to the life counter. This truly was the final round, the tables grids moving under and resetting the Dealers items, Player lucky enough to have used up all his own. The box came back up, opening once more as Dealer spoke up.
*
“Four items each.”
*
More items to grab, more chances to plan. Player reached and grabbed: two beers, one cigarette pack, and one hand saw. Across the table, Dealer had: one beer, handcuffs, hand saw, and a magnifying glass. Bad start... The screen flickered to life and showed four normal bolts, with two more that looked corrupted. A total of six lives for each of them, finally the bullets revealed themselves: four live, four blank- at least that was what Player counted. They were mixed up, arranged to be confusing to look at at a glance. Just as quick, Dealer loaded all eight into the gun. Player starts, looking at his current options before grabbing a beer - This’ll dictate what he does next. He cracked the can before throwing back his second beer of the night, racking the gun and a live round tumbled out. Alright, he could do this, he could work with this... He pointed the gun to his head, the odds were more favorable-
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BANG!
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Utter annihilation of his frontal lobe, maybe not the best time to experiment where he shoots himself in this game.
He coughed, ashes were in the air - like something forever burning.
He was in slight shock - realizing he already lost one bolt. The gun went right to Dealers hands, his smile unwavering as he cocked the empty live shell out. Dealers movements were swift as he got up with the handcuffs, grabbing Player’s wrist with ease - this time noticing the bruises he had as Dealer pressed his thumb against them.
*
“Huh, ya’ bruise easily?”
Player really didn’t want to look up at the man, but his squeezing and pressing on his bruises made his head crane up.
“Yeah. Low iron.”
His words were blunt and quick, getting a strained laugh from the massive man, placing the cuffs around him.
“Riiight... You’ve gotten plenty of iron today though.”
Licking his lips as his sockets narrowed.
“And you’ll get plenty more tonight.”
*
Player looked away from the man, being so close to him made his heart race with feeling akin to fight or flight. And oddly enough, he felt like he couldn’t move - think - or scream around this goliath's presence. Things worked differently here. Things work by his rules. Dealer sat himself back down, their brief interaction barely slowing him from his course of action. He grabbed his magnifying glass - but did something different. Smashing it, he peered through the broken glass to the gun without even touching it.
*
“Hm... Very interesting.”
*
He grabbed the shotgun, pointing it to himself, quick to fire.
|
Click!
|
An empty shell was racked out as he placed the gun down. He grabbed the handsaw, it only took him one swift motion to cut the barrel right off - compared to the effort Player had to put in to cut it down. He pointed the sawed off at Player, him bracing for impact -
|
BANG!
|
Thrown right out his seat, black in view. He’s starting to get too used to being shot.
Thorns, spikes, dust and ash, in a pure white space - stained gray.
Player comes too on the ground, hands still cuffed as he picks himself back up, sitting back on his chair. The table beeps as two lives were taken from him. He was down to three bolts, two of which were glitched... The cuffs still clung tightly to his wrists as he looked to Dealer. The man was all smiles despite his warped face, racking the gun to shoot out the live round. He pointed the gun to himself with a smile - Player was already half dead, and Dealer hasn’t even lost a life ye-
|
BANG!
|
Thoughts were discombobulated as for the first time, Dealer shot himself. Maybe he really wasn’t as immune to error... and that meant - there were no more live rounds right? Dealer pulled himself back, face torn as he chuckled a weak bubbled chuckle, one bolt lost on his side. Player got the gun back into his hands, swallowing quietly as he cocked it, ejecting the empty live... There were three blanks left... Before he did anything, Player grabbed the cigarettes - pulling one out before pausing.
*
“Check under your side, there's a lighter.”
Sure enough, Player’s hands grabbed a lighter - same as the Dealers. He felt a glare come from Dealer, quickly Player tossed the rest of the pack to the side, Dealer’s expression moving to his usual amusement. Stringent rules. Lighting his cigarette, he took a drag before coughing. Player smoked before, but it's been a long while since he did. The man's booming laugh came back, more wet and ragged, spilling some of that oozing blood onto the already dirtied table.
“Never tried this brand? Or is this your first?”
“Haven’t smoked in a while...”
“Couldn’t afford it?”
Players' words caught in his throat from the Dealers question, taking another drag - doing better than the last as he began to calm down. It seemed this man could clock him with ease, resting his elbows on the table as he sighed.
“It’s never a bad time to quit.”
*
The way Dealer laughed, you’d believe Player was setting up a comedy show just for him. This felt degrading, he liked things more when it was just them and the gun. Dealer wiped his eye as if to clear off a tear, Player finishing his smoke as the table granted him one bolt. Better than nothing, pointing the gun to himself, he pulled the trigger.
|
Click!
|
Cocking the gun, there were only two blanks left. The shell was the only noise breaking the thumping of the outside.
|
Click!
|
He could end this load out, get new items and-
|
BANG!
|
It was empty, abandoned, creaking came from behind him.
Back to life again, and back to only three bolts...Perfect. Once the ringing cleared from his ears, Dealer’s booming laugh. He was near tears, finally taking a deep crackling breath to compose himself and finally speak.
*
“Player... What was the loadout this round?”
There was a silence between the two, Player’s heart was still racing from his most recent resurrection. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, The Dealer only shifting his broken jaw into something of a smile, his attempts only letting more of the oily ooze leak from his jaw as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
“It was five live, three blank.”
*
That was all to be said as load out was finished, Player at least grateful he could finally be able to get some new items. Player grabbed: two saws, handcuffs, and a magnifying glass. Dealer had: handcuffs, two magnifying glasses, and a saw. Better items this round - though he wished he had more cigarettes on his side... Shells were revealed, Player paying closer attention - three live, two blank.
The gun went to him, as usual. Player started with the cuffs, pulling himself up as the Dealers arms were already outstretched for him. He tried to keep some distance - but as he began to try and tighten them, Dealer tugged his arms forward - pulling Player closer to him.
*
“C’mon! You can’t close them all the way over there!”
*
The Dealer’s knee was between Players legs as he held his arm still for him, Player was trying not to panic - smelling the blood and cigarettes on him, he reeked. The large man's gaze was trained on him like a hawk as Player fumbled to close the cuffs, moving away as soon as they were on. He sat back down looking at his items, grabbing the magnifying glass as he broke it. Checking the chamber, it was a live round. Swallowing, he moved to grab the hand saw, cutting the barrel before pointing it to Dealer, bracing.
|
BANG!
|
His ear drums rang, hurting from the constant gunshots... The table flared up, two bolts leaving the Dealer's side - making it three lives each. The Dealer seemed to be recovering faster, pulling himself up with his ripped apart face. Tugging the handcuffs, Player had one more turn. He decided to throw back another beer, seeming to get easier to drink with each subsequent one. Racking the gun, a blank clinked out from it... Two lives, one blank. Player liked those odds, he really liked them - grabbing his second hand saw, just as soon as the barrel appeared - it was sawed right off. He pointed the gun to Dealer, this’ll bring him down to only one life.
|
Click!
|
The lack of noise was defining, Players eyes going blank as he realized - That was the last blank. His body was stiff as the gun ripped out from his hands... The Dealer couldn’t stop himself from chuckling, despite how painful it sounded, getting up with his handcuffs as he walked back over to Player.
*
“What’s wrong? You seem a little choked up.”
Player’s wrists were cuffed, his arms shaking as the Dealer’s twisted smile widened.
“Aww, are you scared?”
Player didn’t answer as the Dealer only laughed and patted his back, the strength of which knocked the wind out of him. He walked around and back to his seat, Player staying silent as he grabbed the hand saw, his swift movement chopping the barrel off.
“That’s fine. You win some, you lose some.”
*
The gun was pointed to Player once again.
|
BANG!
|
The gate, a big rusted gate, black and rusted - broken open with nothing but wasteland behind it.
Player opened his eyes, back in his seat. The table beeped before two bolts left his side...
*
“You won’t be here for long, but at least you’ll get to see what this puppy does~”
The device’s shear on Player’s side clamped down, what was one broken bolt now only showed a checkered black and white screen... Life support was truly offline now. The gun was cocked as the empty live shell hit the table... Dealer pointed it to Player.
“Better luck next time.”
*
|
BANG!
|
*
A light is what greeted Player first, his body feeling weightless as he muttered.
“God?”
Yet no one answered - All his weight hitting black soil, he looked up to see jagged spikes and flock of birds overhead. Sitting up, he finally came to and looked at the gate, the thing that came in flashes each death he had. Player pulled his body up and on cue, it opened for him - it looked to be the only place he could go. He slowly walked through the blackened arch, dust and ash rain from above. Where was this? Where was he? Was this hell? Was this-
“Player?”
*
A voice behind him made him turn, only to realize he was back in the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet like he was before that nightmarish ordeal. He was... Alive!? Touching his face, chest, clothes, cross - he could feel his heart racing, he didn’t die - he really didn't die! Maybe this was life's way to help him, a guardian angel that brought him back to the start. He knew how things worked, how the Dealers game worked... He could do this -
He could win this.