Double or Nothing: One in a Million

Framed for the Camera

Everything was dizzy. Spiraling colors of red, black and traces of gold flashing around the room, settling in the air to form complex shapes and patterns on the walls of the facility. Deck felt his eyes rolling around in his skull as he opened his sockets to the world, blinking back against the bright light overhead. Streams of deep red light flashed through the warehouse, casting eerie red shadows over stacks of old crates and packages surrounding the room. Deck sat forward, then paused his movement, but not by his own desire.

"Eh?" The Demon struggled to move around, unable to rise from his chair. Deck lashed at his bonds, groaning when he slumped over in the chair, grumbling. "Fan flipping tastic, isn't it?" He muttered, his weary eyes drifting around the room. It resembled something of an old apartment building, something that one might see in Pride. 'Did they take us between Sins?' Deck wondered, turning slowly so as to not damage anything. 'I would hope so. That saves us a trip and a risk of meeting Harley's irritating work friends.'

As Deck muttered to himself, forming a plan while twisting and turning around the apartment, he decided to try his luck with hopping forward. Unfortunately for Deck, a loud crack snapped through the room, and a bear trap hidden beneath the rug on the floor swung through the soft orange flesh, shredding the carpet to bits. Deck froze, his hands trembling in their tied position behind his back. "Yowza!" He shouted, hopping back toward the center of the room. As the Demon made his way back to square one, he grumbled, twisting and turning around for a potential exit.

'Course,' he told himself, 'they're not bad folks per say, but they can be a bit close minded. I despise that kind of world they tell themselves they live in.' Deck stopped, remembering the bear trap. "Bear? Teeth? Something to cut? Tag me in, coach," he grunted, leaping back toward the trap on the floor. In a small gap of the rusted machinery, the trap had exposed a single, dented tooth. It was nothing pretty, but for Deck's purposes it would have to do. The Demon flung himself down, dragging his wrists near carelessly along the blades.

"And it's not like I'm the one to blame for who they are. I mean, hell, I'm the one who grew up with twelve siblings! You'd think," he grumbled, snapping the chains around his wrists free, "that of all the people in the room who had some decency, it'd be the guy who learned the value," Deck spoke now, leaping from the floor to a chandelier above the bear trap covered floor, swinging back and forth in the air, "of the scraps at the dinner table!" With a flip into a handstand on the ledge of a bookshelf in the corner Deck was out of the center of the floor and into the world's most dangerous game of Floor is Lava.

Latching his fingertips to the edge of the wooden frame, Deck twisted himself around so the corners of his platinum armored chest stuck out toward the center of the room and the mess of chains. "Yeesh. This guy really doesn't like cleaning up after himself." Deck twisted to a table by the edge of the kitchen, leaping in a tremendous jump into a backflip onto the dining room table. The legs snapped and creaked under the weight, but Deck managed to right himself as the table pushed backward, flinging him forward onto the stove. "Whoa crap!" He shouted, scattering pots and pans in a clatter that would wake the heaviest sleeper.

"So you mean to tell me you're...not the Sin Hunter?? Then who the hell are you?" "I told you, scumbag, I may not be the Sin Hunter, but I know people who can tell him." Jules was not so lucky in her imprisonment. She had been paired with the same almond thug with the large cutlass on the rooftop. The beautiful bronze blade swirled and swooshed around the room as the eye patched thug turned to face the chair, tying back her hair into a bun. "The name's Carlyle. That's what my enemies call me. You can call me that, or you can die. Your choice."

Jules raised her eyebrows, shocked by the answer. 'Is this chick serious?' She told herself, pausing before she spoke out. "Okay then, Carlie, let's assume that-" "Nope. Carlyle. No exceptions." Jules backed up slightly when the edge of Carlyle's cutlass slashed toward her, stripping away hairs from her head. Jules righted herself, struggling in her ropes. Carlyle leveled the end of her blade with Jules' chin, bringing the tip upward to meet her gaze. The eyepatched thug leaned forward, her tanned and scarred cheek inches from Jules' quivering eyes.

"If you're not familiar with my turf, then let me clue you in." Jules couldn't possibly keep her eyes anywhere else. Carlyle's face took up everything in her vision. "The Sin Hunter killed my whole crew in one of his 'Holy Crusades,' and now I'm looking for a way to pay. Him. Back." Jules clenched her jaw tight, understanding what critical role she played in all of this. Carlyle swung away from her position, letting her hair down from the bun and swirling the brilliant strands of gold and lilac around before turning back to face the young Sin Hunter.

"You might not be him, but you'll help me schedule an appointment anyways." Jules laughed, keeping her cool despite the sudden shift in tone. "Ha! And what makes you think I could possibly want to help you with that?" Carlyle turned slowly, blinking to reveal multiple eyes all over her arms, face and even on her legs. Jules backed up slowly, her own eyes wide with shock. "Whoa," she muttered, but Carlyle approached quickly, setting her bronze cutlass beside the chair and mounting Jules' trapped and twisted lap. Jules felt the top of her fedora being dragged away as the thug leaned forward, her eyes all focusing on the Sin Hunter.

"I should warn you about my acidic breath, I suppose. It makes everyone's last moments pleasurable, but so agonizing in the moments to come." Jules sucked in a deep breath, spitting back at the Demoness. "You succubi are all the same. All bite and pitiful bark." Carlyle leapt away, her shadow in the darkness of the apartment complex illuminating her multiple eyes, all narrowed and red against the dark. "Besides," Jules retorted, shuffling in her seat to snap her own fingers. "You really are careless with your toys."

Carlyle's outline froze, patting itself down before Jules launched forward, fist first into the almond succubi's face. The thug crashed to the floor, and in trying to rise quickly, the edge of her bronze cutlass surged downward, piercing flesh with a sickening scream. Jules leapt into the shadows, grabbing a small cross from her tool belt while Carlyle rose from the floor, tearing her sword from her damaged arm. Swinging the bronze blade around, the succubus began slashing wildly at the dark, dancing back and forth to catch a shadow who could not be restrained.