A bead of sweat dripped down the side of Javier’s head, tickling as it moved. He watched as the bald man across the table reluctantly picked up the tiny black revolver that sat between them. The man’s eyes met Javier’s. He seemed to be weighing options. Another bead of sweat trickled down Javier’s face.
The two peacekeepers began to step closer, these men in suits and earpieces, men who carry weapons that take two hands to hold. “Alright. Alright.” Baldy said, his voice nasally. “I'm not gonna get any ideas.” The men didn’t step back. Baldy exhaled a long sigh and placed the barrel of the revolver gently on his temple. We had already both had a turn, so the gun was on chamber three. A one-in-six went down to a-one-four. If it clicked again Javier would have to do a one-in-three. That was horrific, he didn’t know if he could pull the trigger on those odds, even if trying the peacekeepers would be a slimmer chance. There was no point thinking about that for this second however, Baldy still had to pull on a one-in-four.
The man lightly squeezed the trigger, and then backed down before the hammer could fully snap. He did this two more times, and then Javier felt like he had to say something. “Jesus Christ you pussy, pull the trigger.” Then he made a grabbing motion with his hand. “If you want I could do it for you. Plugging you would be no skin off mine.”
The man snarled at Javier. “You’re fuckin’ lucky buddy. Any where else I’d lay you against the curb and-“
One of the peacekeepers leveled his weapon and the bald man’s head. “Take your turn. Now.” He spoke in a completely emotionless, flat voice. Baldy gritted his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut, and pulled.
The first thing Javier noticed was the muzzle flash. A clap of light tha left afterimages on Javier’s eyes. Then was the noise, a loud shock halfway between a crack and a pop. Baldy’s head snapped to the side with enough force that it bounced back the other way. The man’s body went rigid, straining against the chair straps that held him down. A trickle of blood dripping from the entry wound. That was the third win.
Javier whooped and holared in near-euphoria. A weight unlike any other had just left his chest. For the first time in ten years he wouldn’t have this debt hanging over his head. He cackled as the bald man’s body was unstrapped and carted away. Javier stopped when he realized the men in suits weren’t undoing his own restraints. “Hey!” He called to one. “You got your video! Fuckin’…” His muscles strained and the straps remained still. “Bullshit!”
The peacekeepers earpieces went off simultaneously. One turned away to talk into it while the other stepped closer to Javier. “You’re going to have to hold on for a minute. Gold is going to have an offer for you.”
“Gold?” Javier asked, then shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. No deal. Let me out.”
The younger man looked off to the door, expecting. “Sorry pal. Gold’s the only one who can make that descion.”
“Descion?!” Javier was outraged. “I won! I won the goddamn money!” He struggled uselessly until Gold stepped into the room. Gold was a short man, dressed in khackis, a pink polo, and sandals. He wore a gaudy ring on his pinky finger, and was arguing on the phone as he walked in. “Sell motherfucker I told you to sell! I don’t give a single shit what the ‘analyst’ says...” Javier opened his mouth to speak and Gold stuck up a single finger to silence him. Javier felt blindsided by shock and anger. He was too preoccupied with that to speak. Gold continued. “The suit has the inside information. He says jump, you fly. He says suck, you swallow. Okay? Okay.”
Gold hung up the call and turned towards Javier. His face plastered with a phony smile. “So… You’re the lucky son-bitch.”
Javier gritted his teeth and struggled again. The straps dug into his arms and rubbed the skin raw. “Let me out you fuckin’ psycho. You got your snuff footage.”
Gold laughed, he had that fake chuckle that your boss does to seem personable. “I don’t know if that’s a great idea friend-“
“Fuck you!” Javier roared. “Let me out of these goddamn straps!”
“Shhhh.” Gold put a finger to his lips and shushed Javier. “I’m just about to do that buddy, I just want you to be aware of all your options first.”
Javier paused for a moment. That was the first sentence out of his mouth that actually made sense. He didn’t give his anger a chance to be smothered however, that was his source of strength right now. The only thing keeping him from breaking down and crying from the sheer weight of it all.
Gold raised his eyebrows. Javier spoke. “Just speak. Give me my options so I can pick the one that gets me out of here.”
Gold then clapped his hands, genuinely smiling this time. His teeth were unnaturally straight. “Oh I would love to…” Gold then began swiping through his smartphone quickly. “Now remind me Jav.” He pronounced it Hauv. “How much did you owe my little organization before you went through this little gauntlet.”
The memories were still fresh enough to sting. “Two-point-six-million…”
Gold’s face filled with shock. “Goddamn kid you just won Two-point-six off me right now? For a few snuff tapes?” He turned towards one of the suits. “Find me the person who authorized that.” The suit took a few steps a began quietly talking in his headset.
“I earned the money Gold.” Javier felt exhausted. “I watched three men die today. I had to sit there and watch as a grown man pissed himself.” Javier closed his eyes. “He begged and she (Javier motioned to one of the suits) shoved the camera in his face.”
Gold clapped the tall woman on the back and she returned a genuine smile. Javier’s stomach turned. Gold spoke again. “I’m not trying to fuck you Javy. I can fully appreciate a man who put in a hard day’s work. Besides… you want to know a secret?”
Javier groaned. Gold kept speaking. “That two-point-six, that’s not a real number.”
Javier squinted. “What?”
“We don’t actually think we can squeeze that much from you. The average debtor that’s desperate enough to end up here will only make a million for us at most. -and that’s with harvesting unneeded organs and selling the person to slavery.” Gold then perked up, his eyes rewatching a memory. “The best deal I’ve ever struck was giving college twins to a Dubai prince. Three-point-two million.”
He shook a yellow and silver watch. It was large and sat heavy on his arm, it made a clickling noise when he moved it. Gold spoke. “I’m wearing half that on this arm right here.” It didn’t look good.
Javier sighed. The adrenaline had left his system and he felt like he might pass out. He was having trouble focusing his vision in one spot. “What’s even the point of this Gold? I just want to leave and go home.”
Gold smiled. “That leads exactly to the point Javy. What home do you have to go to?”
Javier furrowed his eyebrows. He opened his mouth to speak, and paused. He didn’t have a home. Mavi left him after the second gambling binge, and the sharks got the house after Javier squeezed every cent he could out of it. He sat and thought about that for a moment. He lost his house, and he still had to play this game. He tried to meet a loan amount that they knew he couldn’t match. This was the goal. His eye twitched. “I don’t have a home. So what. Are you suddenly feeling charitable?”
“Son, I am always charitable. However, this deal is coming from pragmatism. I want to squeeze a little more value out of you. Another game.”
Javier’s heart dropped. “No. No I won’t, I couldn’t.”
“I’ll double your profit, you could walk away with two-point-six million on a bank account in your name.”
“What? Didn’t you just fuckin’ say that’s a bullshit number? Why are you trying to actually give that much away?”
Gold looked Javier in the eye. “Because I don’t think you’ll survive. I have quite the ringer.”
“The ringer? How many games has this guy won for you?”
Gold chuckled. “Fourty three.”
Javier sat there with his jaw trying to stretch to the floor. The first thought that ricocheted through his mind was: Hell no! Even I’m not dumb enough to try that. After the initial gut reaction passed, he sat with it some more. He literally had no money, and it’s not like Gold was the only man he owed money to. The sharks took most of their debts from his belongings, but there were definitely a couple stragglers that would be pissed at him. He wouldn’t be able to get some shelter without money. There were no homeless shelters anywhere nearby and he didn’t have a car to travel with. They cleaned him up a bit to record the game videos, but a couple nights of sleeping outside will make him filthy enough to fail almost every job interview. He could try slinging or stealing, he could even just get arrested for the three hots and a cot. Fuck, he could even copy his dad and go military.
Was that a life he wanted to live? Prison or dying to a middle eastern drone? Is that the life he gambled through three games Russian Roulette for?
Javier spoke. “I hate you. I hate you Gold. I’d kill you if I could. I’ll kill you if I can. Call your fucking ringer down here.”
Gold cackled. “Yes! Yes! Yes! That’s it Javy!” He turned back to a suit. “Call him in. As fast as you can.”
Javier didn’t know if he should ask this question. He specifically avoided it for the other guys he played against. But fuck it. The man supposedly won forty three games. He’s earned it. “What’s his name?”
Gold thought for a second, figuring out the best way to say this. “When he enters this room he has less of a name and more of a title… He is ‘The Luckiest Man in the World’.” Javier scoffed, and Gold continued. “Just saying ‘L’ would be fine.”
About five minutes passed and the door behind Javier opened again. It cast a bright light over his back, stretching a long silhouette on the metal table in front of him. Footsteps, and then the sound of Gold clapping and shaking hands with someone. Quiet conversation, a couple chuckles, a single hushed “What? Really?” Then they stepped in front of Javier.
Gold had a young black man standing next to him. Christ he was young, I don’t think he’d be able to buy liquor. The kid was dressed well, designer that was picked with purpose. He wore a couple rings, had an expensive bedazzled tooth, and dropped his white hat on the table between them. He reminded Javier of himself before everything went to shit.
One of the suits pulled up a significantly more cushioned chair than Javier was strapped to, and L sat down. Then, he turned towards Gold, “Fifty percent royalties on on this one right?”
Gold nodded, slowly. “As always.”
L rocked back and forth in his chair. “Alright! I’m gonna smoke this dude easy. Flip the coin.”
The suit closest to the table hit a couple buttons on the film camera, and then fished a quarter out of his chest pocket. He showed it to the camera, flipped it, and then shoved it in front of the lens again. The audience watching later at home would know it sooner than anyone actually in the video. The coin had landed on heads, the side of the table Javier was on.
His eye twitched. That was not a good start. Javier sorta believed in luck, not really that there were actually “lucky” people, but rather that luck was a resource you could temporarily deplete, and Javier had just survived three games.
A suit passed the small .38 to Gold and he loaded the weapon himself. He dropped a single cartage into one of the cylinders and gave it a few hard spins. Javier tried to keep track of the bullet. He tried every time today. He guessed it was in slot four or five, just with how the spin seemed to slow down. He had only been right once today.
Gold gently placed the gun on the table in front of Javier, and took several steps back, outside of Javier’s immediate vision and range. He felt a slight twinge of annoyance at this. He didn’t think he was going to try that route, but the option would’ve been nice to have. He moved to pick up the gun, and he heard metal shift behind him. One of the suits lifted a small shotgun to his skull. They weren’t going to take a risk this time.
Javier breathed, held the gun in his right hand, felt the weight of the weapon, and then the world began to close in. He sucked air but still felt like he was choking. Playing this game again was fucking insane. He needs to get his brain checked. Pull the trigger or wide shoulders is going to brain check you. If I pull the trigger I’m going to get checked. He lost feeling in his hand. The metal cooled his clammy temple. He pulled, screamed, and breathed.
Nothing happened. The revolver had cycled. Javier put the gun down with a weak hand. Gold clapped in excitement and Javier turned toward him for a moment. The rich man had a wide grin across his face. Javier had only turned for a second when he heard the click, and thump. He spun back, nearly giving himself whiplash. L was sitting in his chair, comfortable after taking his turn. Javier gaped. He stared at the gun for a minute. Christ, did he? A suit motioned at him with a shotgun. “Take your turn.” “Hold on a sec-” The suit braced, and Javier grabbed the gun. He had to move against his better instinct to raise his arm. It felt like grinding stone. Had the metal always been this heavy? Had his arm always been this heavy? Christ. Javier squinted.
“Take your-” Javier squeezed, gasped, gagged, and turned over to the right to spit as his stomach turned upward. The gun fell to the floor with a clatter. That would have been shot three. L bent over, and grabbed the weapon. “Damn man, you’re getting sick? You played decent in the games earlier.” L played with the gun for a minute, fidgeting with it idly while talking. The suits didn’t react at all. “I guess I just make you that nervous, huh? Can’t keep your lunch down.” He squeezed the trigger, and set the weapon back down without a second thought. The gun had been fired four times. Javier now needed to fire the fifth shot. Not a single one of the prior games got this far. Sweat poured down his face. The air felt thick around him. One of the suits began to move.
“Give me a fuckin moment!”
“Take your turn.”
“Please just give me one second.” This was a plea instead of a demand.
A suit raised his shotgun, and Javier considered letting him do it. It might just be easier than pulling it on himself. But his internal self-preservation instinct overrode. His body felt the slim percentage chance he had, and began lifting his numb arm up. He saw how unfair it was. People shouldn’t just get to be born lucky. He couldn’t feel it as his fingers squeezed the trigger. Time felt like it slowed, as the hammer swung down to the base. There was a click, and then silence.
Javier exhaled. Coughed. Turned, and vomited. The restraints kept him from turning far, but managed to avoid splattering his chest. The gun slipped from his loose grip and hit the floor with a clatter.
Gold and his men stood in shocked silence. L had stopped smiling. The only sound in the room was Javier’s guttural expression of relief. One of the Suits hesitantly began to aim his shotgun and Gold motioned him to stop. The Suit replied with an expression of confusion, then:
“Let it play out.”
The Suit, Javier, and L snapped their heads towards Gold and spoke at once, “What?!”
Gold smirked. “It happened. Oh Jesus it actually happened. This episode is going to double the profit of our library…”
“Fucker!” L stood up, and was immediately met with the barrel of a peacekeeper. He shot the younger suit a dirty look, and slowly sat back down. “You’re a fucking snake.”
Gold smiled, and extended his hands out. “I haven’t even cheated anyone this time. I guess the big dealer just finally stopped stacking the deck for you.”
One of the Suits picked the revolver up off the floor and went to pass it to L. As L grabbed the gun, the other Suit racked his peacekeeper. L slowly placed the revolver barrel against his temple. Gold moved the camera to get a closer view. A drip of sweat dripped down Javier’s face.
Time felt like it was crawling. Gold was visibly getting impatient. After another moment L brought his gaze up at the ceiling, no, through the ceiling. He stared, and then under his breath. “I trust you.”
There was a loud explosion as he pulled. A bright orange flash burst from his hand for a split second. It left a purple after image in the center of Javier’s vision. L’s head knocked to the side.
Everyone jumped from the sound. A couple people shouted. Javier’s chest was pounding. He looked around. Both Suits were getting their bearings. One was trying to shake off some hearing damage. L, sitting across the table, was also messing with his ringing ear.
Javier’s heart stopped. How? He struggled to breathe. “How?!”
There was a panicked gurgle to Javier’s right. Gold was struggling to stand, both hands clutched around his now crimson neck. There was a pressurized spray of red that escaped his fingers with every heart beat. Gold took a step, then fell. Both Suits turned toward the dying man. “Shit…” one said quietly. “It tore a hole through his neck. He’s done…” Gold tried to make eye contact with Javier, and the restrained man looked away.
Before the Suits could turn back and decide what to do with the men, L stood from his chair and charged. He only had to cover a couple steps. L slammed the grip on the revolver as hard as he could into the back of the female suit’s skull. The impact made a dull crack and the woman turned limp. L grabbed the peacekeeper before it fell from her grip, and let the woman drop. Somehow, he managed to aim his barrel before the suit could fully turn. They both paused for a moment, the suit brought his hands up to surrender, L pulled, and the man dropped.
Then, L turned to Javier. The restained man flinched, and tried to break away. L walked to him with a smirk. “You’ll be fine. Just don’t give me a reason.” The straps and cuffs were undone, and Javier felt free. He sat there in shock for a moment, fully processing everything that happened that day. He really processed it. He wanted to cry. To enact the old childish strategy of curling up, closing your eyes, and pretending that the world around bad just ceased to exist.
Instead, he swallowed, sighed, and stood. “Thanks…” He said. “That Gold was a dick, it just sucks that I’m not getting that two million.”
L snorted. “That’s what you were playing your life for? Two million cash? What does that buy you now, a house?”
Javier thought about it for a second. He felt like shit.
“Here.” L said, tossing one of the cards from his gaudy wallet on the table. “Take that, I got like fifteen mil’ on that account.”
Javier was unable to comprehend a number being that high, the shock would fully hit him until later. “Why?” He asked.
L shrugged, “Why not, got more than I could spend.” He paused for a second. “Well I could, but that would kill me.” The kid laughed and wiped his nose. Then, he turned towards Gold’s body. He unclasped, and then removed the large watch off the dead man’s wrist. “Besides, it’s all drops in buckets, really. I’m going to flip this into a hot streak at Alejandro’s. You ever heard of a casino having to give out credit to a winner?” He laughed again. “I pay guys just to drive around and collect.”
Javier had to ask this one question, unwise as it may be after the grace he was given, but he had to ask. “If you can just do that, roll through casinos and get millions after millions, then why do you do this? Why if it’s just all drops in buckets.
L’s smile dropped, and he thought about it for a minute. “Well… Honestly… Because why not? It’s something to do.”
Javier thanked him again, and left. He got a decent hotel (not extravagant), a hot meal, and a fast car. He realized how lucky he had actually been this day, and it made him sick. He was hit with a wave of nausea every time he looked at that black bank card, but would get panic attacks whenever it was out of his sight. It felt like his lifeline back into the real human world.
As he sank into the bathtub, something became clear to him. Luck was a zero sum game, For people to profit unfairly, people had to suffer unfairly. There was injustice written into the universal code. He was luckier than three men, and look what happened to them. Javier thought about this. Then, he thought about L, and shuddered.
(This is the first draft of a story I’m going to have in a horror compilation.)