Guns or Daggers

Lucky

TW: Russian Roulette, more violence, a bit of manipulation (if you squint).

Russian Roulette:  It is potentially lethal in which a player places a single round in a revolver, spins the cylinder, places the muzzle against the head or body (the opponent or themselves), and pulls the trigger. If the loaded chamber aligns with the barrel, the weapon will fire, killing or severely injuring the player. Russian refers to the supposed country of origin, and roulette to the element of risk-taking and the spinning of the revolver's cylinder, similar to a roulette wheel. (source: Wikipedia).

The Russian roulette and potion scene here was inspired by the one in the mv above.

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The large gates were opened by huge guards, all dressed in grey, faces hidden by masks and sunglasses even though the Sun had sunk below the horizon hours ago. Darkness engulfed the sky with no stars or moon in sight. Crows perched on the slanted roof of the building, their eyes shining in the faint glow of the streetlights getting reflected in rainwater. The whole street was empty just like the buildings lining it, abandoned and neglected. 

Sofia entered those gates along with three other girls, slightly impressed by the fact that the room inside wasn't anything like the exterior. It was a lot nicer than she had anticipated from the broken windows and rusted fences. A long table lay in the middle with four chairs on each side, one side already occupied by three men except a single empty chair. Sofia sat on the other side, motioning others to do the same. The ceiling was low, almost like a normal room. The walls were painted neatly with not a single speck of dirt anywhere. 

The sliding door behind the men opened, revealing a guy looking way too bright for someone who killed people for fun. He was wearing a white suit with golden trim, hair slicked back perfectly, and shoes polished to shine brighter than the lights themselves. His whole appearance was in stark comparison with everyone else's in the room. While he was looking like an elegant swan, his men were dressed in grey suits with not a hint of white. And then there was Sofia and her gang. Black jeans, shirts, and leather jackets, all crumpled, a complete rival to the white neat suit ironed by professionals. 

Vernon took his seat among his men, smiling brightly at everyone, ignoring the glares pointed at him from across the table.

"Hey-" his cheerful greetings were cut short by Sofia.

"Where's the potion?" her voice was sharp and demanding.

Despite all that, Vernon laughed as if a joke had been cracked. His laughter bounced off the walls, yet no one was amused.

"Straight to the point as always," he managed to say, wiping tears from his eyes. 

"Where's the potion?" she slammed her hand on the table, her voice going an octave deeper, albeit still loud and clear.

"Sheesh. It's here obviously. Why in such a hurry? Have a drink first," he waved at the man next to him who stood up and proceeded towards the sliding door.

"Proof?"

Vernon sighed, turning his head towards the man standing at the sliding door.

"Forget the drinks. Just bring in the box," he said and then turned to the front again. "You're so boring," he mumbled, and if one didn't know him, they'd just assume he was a normal guy throwing a tantrum. 

Sofia didn't react.

"Say, why do you need the potion anyway? You have one of the best techs, just ask them to make some for you," his face twisted in a smile far from genuine. "They'd squeeze their organs to make it if you keep up that gaze."