Author Games: Ace of Spades

Task Four: Males

The tiny silver ball sat, shining, smiling at me, snug in the 33 slot, right where I needed it. For a second, I believed everything would be all right, until I turned to Emerson and saw the gun in their hand.

I stumbled backwards, awaiting a gunshot, praying that I would somehow be able to dodge the bullet, cursing myself for landing on thirteen. Of course winning meant dying. That was how these sick games worked, weren't they? They flipped the world as we knew it on its head.

I was nearly cowering by the time Emerson laughed. "Don't worry, Adam. I won't be shooting anyone today."

I still couldn't completely relax, though, not when he added, "You will."

I took the silver revolver he held out tentatively, and ran my fingers over the smooth surface. There wasn't a single blemish on the metal, but I was certain that before the game was over, there would be more than one person's blood on it.

"You see, there's more than one version of Roulette that we'll be playing today."

Of course. Russian Roulette, the most lethal game of chance. More luck. With the way I'd just "won", I wasn't sure I had any luck left.

"Pick one, Mr. Burke. Any player in the room, excluding us, of course. You wouldn't want to make any of the Aces angry. Your choice."

I glanced down at the heavy silver object, the weight nothing compared to the weight of the bullet. Such a small object that could incur such great suffering, and such guilt in whoever had pulled the trigger. There was only one bullet in the gun, but it was still chance - just chance.

I had control over one part, though - who would die, or at least fear for their lives. Could I forgive myself if I killed any of them?

There was only one person in the room I wouldn't feel guilty about shooting - because there wouldn't be any of me to feel guilty.

Not waiting for confirmation from the Aces, not even looking at them, I pulled the revolved up to my skull, and squeezed.

There was no gunshot, no staggering pain, no blackness. Only a soft click as the revolver turned to the next chamber.

My luck was still here - but for how long?

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Blorange Orange

T I T L E = C H A N C E

The strangely heavenly burn of Terror

an Angel's wings

fluttering in my esophagus

Liquid lightning, striking

Almost blasphemous

A devilish game of Russian Roulette

Just one single click

One single second

And just one single chance

Is the judge, the jury and my defense

I wasn't afraid

This was just a game

A wicked game

This hellish war of death, hate and

Intoxicating fear

Put a beautiful curse on my mind

Sending shivers down my spine

Has never felt so

Divine

Because in the end we all loose the game of life~