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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1286208
A gambler in Las Vegas is invited to play a game by a strange man he meets in a casino.
              I met him in the most likely of places.  Really the only place you can meet this type of man.  I was in Vegas, in a casino of course, The Flamingo.  I was playing craps and some jagoff was throwing the dice.  He would have his girlfriend, or maybe she was his wife, or, more than likely just another Vegas whore, blow on the dice.  He'd toss them to the back of the table where they would bounce back onto the green felt and voila!  Another seven.  He was raking in the dough, and, more importantly, so was I.  I was getting ready to leave the table when I heard the guy say, "I'm feeling hot tonight, and I owe it all to this little lady right here," as he gave his girl/wife/whore a kiss.  "I'm gonna let the whole thing ride!"
         He pushed all his winnings for the night onto the table and yelled, "Come on SEVEN!"
         What a fucking idiot, I thought.
         I picked up my chips, I was done gambling for tonight, but I was interested to see the outcome of this roll.
         The dice left his hand... off the back of the table... and came to rest toward the center... snake eyes.
         "BULLSHIT!" He screamed.
         I turned and walked away with a grin on my face.
         "Got out at just the right time, huh," said a gruff voice to my left.
         I turned and saw a rough looking man in a leather biker's jacket.  He had a long dark beard and his hair was jet black and hung down just passed his shoulders.  He was maybe 40 years old.
         "You just gotta know when to quit," I said.
         "A'int that the truth," he said.  "I've been watching you all night.  You've won quite a bit of money in a short time.  I offer a game for those who can handle it, if you know what I mean.  If you are interested follow me."
         The gruff man said no more, just walked away.  I followed out of curiosity.
         "Hold up!" I yelled.  "I'm definitely interested."
         The man did not even look back, but motioned with his hand to continue following him.
         He walked over to a door marked "FIRE EXIT ONLY! ALARM WILL SOUND!"  He opened the door and walked out.  No alarm sounded.  I followed closely.
         We were now in a dark alley, no streetlights, but everything was bathed in a pink glow from the Flamingo's fluorescent sign.  Directly across the alley was an unmarked door, with no door knob.  The gruff man made a series of knocks on the door in a pattern that I recognized as "Mary had a Little Lamb."  The door was opened by a beautiful dark haired woman.  We walked into a brightly light, but dirty room.  There was one man sitting at a card table.  The gruff man pulled out a chair and motioned for me to sit down.
         As I took my seat I noticed the man across from me only had one arm, and on the arm that he did have (the right one), his hand was missing the first and second fingers.  I began to feel uneasy.
         I said, "So, what sort of game do you fellas play here?"
         The gruff man pulled out a gun, pointed it to my head and said, "Give me all your money.  Cash, credit cards, and that nice watch with the compass on it.  I've always wanted a compass watch."
         The dark haired woman was standing behind him.  She said, "Why the fuck do you want a compass watch?  You think your stupid ass is gonna get lost in the woods out here?  Besides you never leave the fucking house, or do you think you might get lost going to the grocery store?"
         It sounded like an extension of a previous argument, but surprisingly the man paid no attention to the woman's comments.  He kept the gun pointed at me and said, "Let's go cheetah, hand it all over."
         I unfastened my watch and set it on the table.  I then reached in both my pockets and pulled out two large rolls of one hundred dollar bills.  It was thirty grand total.  I handed it to the gruff man.
         He smiled and said, "You can have all this back after the game is done.  We don't play for money here, but may I keep the watch."  He handed the money to the woman and picked my watch up from the table.
         "Do I have a choice?" I asked.
         "Not really," he said, as he fastening my watch on his left wrist.  "No matter what this bitch says," he motioned to the dark haired woman, "this watch will prove very useful to me.  While it is true there are no forests out here there is a SHITLOAD OF FUCKING DESERT TO GET LOST IN!"  As he screamed the last part of his sentence he was staring directly at the woman.  She shrugged, but made no retort.  "Let me explain to you what we do here cheetah."  He said as he turned to face me.  "We believe that gambling for money, while it may be exciting to some, has really been done to death."  He put his gun away inside his jacket.  "There is no excitement for us in winning pieces of paper.  Do you agree?"
         "I can't say that I do, I must say I love money,"  I said.
         "Well that's all about to change," he said.  "Once you've experienced this you will never gamble for meaningless paper again.  I only took your money to make sure that you don't skip out on us, I assure you that I shall return it after our game is done tonight."
         "What is it exactly that we are going to do?"  I asked.  I was quite nervous now, but I was not showing it.
         "You ever play "War" as a child?"  He said.
         "Yes, my grandmother taught me,"  I said, still unsure of what was about to happen.
         "Well cheetah, this ain't your grandmother's game."  He began to laugh, which quickly turned into a bout of coughing.  When he finally did catch his breath, he reached in to the inner pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a cigarette.  "It's the shitty air in this town that will be the death of me, so much pollution."  He said as he lit up.  "For your sake, I will briefly explain the house rules of our game here.  I will deal you each a card, whoever's card is higher, ace being the highest, wins that round and keeps both cards.  We continue like that until the deck is exhausted, at which point I will count each player's cards they have won during the rounds.  The player with the most cards wins the game.  Oh, and in the event that there is a tie for one round, we handle that in the same way your grandma taught you, cheetah.  I will deal each of you three cards face down, then one card face up and the round will be determined by those two new face up cards, winner takes all the dealt cards.  Any questions?"
         "You didn't tell him about the betting!"  The dark haired beauty yelled.
         "I was getting to that you STUPID WHORE!"  The gruff man was visibly upset, yet the woman continued to ignore his abusive comments to her.
         "Now cheetah, listen up, 'cause this is the most important part.  This is where we deviate slightly from the game your grandma taught you."  A smile cracked across his lips.  "The betting works like this:  Before we begin round one the bet must be placed for the outcome of the game.  Since you are our new player for tonight you will have the honor of cutting the deck first.  As I stated earlier we do not play for money, so let me now reveal to you the unique aspect of our game.  You will cut the cards, anywhere you like, and the card you cut to will signify the bet for that game.  Really the face value of the card does not matter in regards to the bet, it is only the suit that is significant.  Hearts represent a finger, Diamonds represent a toe, Clubs represent a body part of your choosing, and last, but most certainly not least, Spades represent your life."
         My jaw fell open, I could not believe what he was saying.  For a brief moment I thought this must be a joke, but one quick glance at my mutilated opponent sitting across the table from me assured me that it was nothing of the sort.
         "I won't do it," I said.  "I won't play." 
         "Oh, you will play,"  the gruff man said.  "Or else we kill you anyway.  At least with the game you have a chance of survival."
         I turned to the mutilated man who was to be my opponent in this sick game and asked, "How long have you been playing this game?"
         "He can't answer you, cheetah,"  the gruff man said.
         Across the table from me the man opened his mouth to reveal he had no tongue
         "As you may have already guessed, I collect the bet from the loser at the end of each game."  The gruff man's face was one big sickening smile.
         "So, shall we begin?" the woman asked.
         The gruff man slammed a stack of red backed Bicycles on the table.  "Cut the deck."  He said dryly.
         My hand was trembling, but I manged to reach out and do as I was told.  I slowly turned the card over... seven of clubs.
         "Alright, your choice cheetah.  What will it be?"  The gruff man was getting excited now.
         "I won't do this, I CAN'T do this!"  I yelled as I got up from my chair.
         "Sit the fuck DOWN!"  The man screamed.  He took a couple of steps toward me and I sat back in the uncomfortable brown metal folding chair.  There was no getting out of this, that much was clear.  "Now chose," he said.
         "I d...d...don't know," I stammered.  "How about a... a... toe."  I thought, if I had to lose something, a toe would be the least traumatizing.
         "Come on, be more imaginative," the woman said.  "How about an eye."
         "Yes, I like that idea, an eye it is!"  The man said gleefully.
         "Hey, I thought it was my choice," I protested.
         "Shut up cheetah.  Give me the deck, it's time to deal."  He said.
         

         The first two cards came out.  I had a  nine of spades and my mutilated opponent had a three of hearts.  The gruff man scooped up both cards with one large hand and tossed them in front of me.  I had won the first round.  The game continued on in silence for another five minutes.  I began to feel nauseous  It was too hard to tell if my opponent or I had won more cards, it looked about even.  I felt a gagging sensation in my throat, but I fought it off.  Here came the last two cards.  Ten of diamonds for me, jack of hearts for the man across the table.
         "Alright, let's tally 'em up!"  The man said.
         He walked over to my side of the table and grabbed my cards.  The woman did the same to the man on the other side of the table.
         They counted the cards one by one, placing them on the table.  I was sweating profusely, and that gagging feeling crept up my throat again. 
         "I have twenty-nine over here," the man said. 
         I couldn't even do the math in my head I was so scared.  Did that mean I won?
         "Yep, twenty-three on this side," the woman said.
         A wave of relief washed over me and I let out a sigh.  At the same moment the man who sat across from me began making strange yelping noises and struggling in his chair.
         "Now, now, Charles, you know what has to happen.  It looks like your bad luck streak is still running strong."  The large dark haired man walked toward the man he called Charles and produced an automatic stiletto knife from his leather jacket pocket.  He pressed a button on his knife and the blade swung up and locked into place.  Then suddenly he was upon the man across the table from me, straddling him in the chair.  Charles was still making those horrible yelping noises and although I couldn't see around the large man, I knew what was happening.
         When the gruff man stepped away from Charles I gasped.  The man had collected the bet, just like he said he would.  Charles' left eye was missing, and the empty eye socket was pouring blood down his shirt.  The gruff man studied the eyeball at the end of his knife for a moment, then flicked it off into a small garbage can under the card table.  He closed his knife and relocated it back into his leather jacket pocket.
         "Well, whose up for another game?"  He asked, displaying another one of his sickening grins.
         I was relieved that I had emerged victorious last game and although I felt horrible sadness for what had happened to my opponent Charles, there was also a thrilling feeling deep inside me.  I was unharmed!  I had gambled with my very life and won.
         "I'm ready for another, deal 'em."  I said enthusiastically.
         The gruff man let lose another ballad of his harsh laughing followed by more coughing.  He light another cigarette, then handed the deck to the man sitting across the table from me.  "Alright, your cut Charles."
© Copyright 2007 Christopher Stephen (csa133 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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