Writing Prompts

Bets Suck

                 
(The prompt was: You have an unusual power- whoever you bet on, no matter the circumstances, will always lose.)

There are a few things that you should know before I tell you this story.

1.       I have this... thing. I can make people lose. If I bet on them winning, whether because of bad luck on my part or something supernatural, they always lose. No matter what. One time, I bet on a horse three seconds before the end of the race, the horse I bet on was less than fifty yards from the finish line, all the other riders were eating that horses dust. I bet on the horse, and as soon as I said it, it stopped. It wasn't hurt, the rider was just fine, and it wasn't even more tired than you would expect a horse to be, but it stopped right in front of the finish line. If I bet on something, it always loses, without fail.

2.       Ever since I was a little kid, my dad told me a story. He would tell me on holidays, as a bedtime story, if I was feeling sad, or if I needed luck for an upcoming event. By the time my father died, I knew the tale by heart. You may have heard it. "There is tell of an extraordinary man, who is known as Matrim Cauthon. Now, Matrim was a high born lad, a noble, in fact, but he had no real taste for most things noble. He loved, more than anything else (besides his beloved wife, of course) gambling in bars with common folk, and with a pretty young lass on his knee. Matrim had fancy clothes, of course, like any high born lad, and the best embroidered eye-patch you'll ever see, but when he went out gambling, he only wore his common clothes. The one thing he always wore, no matter the company he was in, was his wide brimmed hat. It was always with him. Anyways, enough about his clothes. Let's get to the real legend. They say he can go into any pub on any night, play with anyone, and he never loses unless he wants to. The only times he has lost was when it would have been absolutely foolish to do otherwise. And I know what you may be thinking, he must use loaded dice, father! But he doesn't! He can use any dice, his or not, fixed or not and always get the same results! He has never needed to cheat, he is simply that lucky! And you know the best part of this story? I have seen it myself! He once bet on the worst horse to possibly race, and it won! Some say he has magic, but I know. I know that it is in-born luck."  The fact that my father had seen him made me think my father was crazy, until this story began.

It was a sunny day, with only hot wind to attempt to lessen the blistering heat. You would never expect to find a nobleman in this part of town, and I didn't, not at first. I bet I won't find a good inn that isn't full to the brim, I think. I don't often use my "gift", or so my dad called it, to my favor, but it couldn't hurt sometimes. Almost immediately after I finish that thought, lo and behold, there's the inn! The Stag and Lion was a small inn, but it was good none the less, and although it was slightly crowded, it was mostly only around one or two tables.

I take my seat at an unoccupied table and order a mug of ale, wondering idly what could possibly be going on at the table. One man from the middle of the throng shouts "Bloody won again? How?! You're using the same dice I am, they aren't rigged, how could you win so many times in a row?!" The man didn't sound angry; he was too drunk for that. Gambling then, and it obviously wasn't for too much money, or else there would be a lot more shouting. I pick up my mug and walk over to the outskirts of the mess of people, curious about who could possibly be so lucky. I only get a few glimpses of the man, but at that point, I was fairly sure who it was. Common clothes, but not so worn that they were worn regularly, an eye patch across his left eye and, of course, a wide brimmed hat sitting atop his head. Matrim Cauthon. I did not expect the man to look like this, but really, what could I expect?

It seems my father wasn't insane. "I'll take the next round!" I had to repeat myself several times to be heard, but when I did, people only laughed and said, "Good luck!" I may need it. My father says this man never loses, but what happens when I bet that he'll win? The man finishes and gets up, but he leaves the dice at the table, luckily for me, since I have none. When I sit down at the table, I look Matrim in the eye, more nervous than I should be. "How about we change things up for this round?" I propose, hoping he doesn't notice my sweaty palms.

"What do you mean? I'm intrigued." He leans forward in his chair, a gleam in his eye. He knows that whatever I do, he'll win.

"I mean, how about I bet that you'll roll a win, and you bet that I'll roll a win. Same game, different strategy. Simple enough for a lucky man like you. Maybe your luck will pass over to me, so that you still win. What do you say, Mat?" I lean back in my chair, hoping to the Creator and back that my friends weren't lying when they said I was a good actor. A smile spreads across his face at my proposal, probably because no one has tried something like this before.

"Alright, you roll first." When I do, everything looks normal until... both my dice stop on the corner that shows six and two, six being a losing roll and two a winning. I did nothing, no matter what he does. He looks on in confusion for a minute before rolling his dice. The same thing. Four different dice, two different rolls, all land on the same corner. That is impossible. Neither of us won or lost. We roll again and again, each rolling the same. It's a stalemate, and we both left equals.

But still, I beat the unbeatable.