You don't just end up playing this game. It's not fun or even remotely enjoyable. Ten minutes ago i was just walking home from the grocery store, looking out for potential threats and still didn't see it coming. You know, the conventional bound and gagged, sack over the head, punch to stomach, grocery spilled on the sidewalk and being dumped into an SUV. The most preferred method of kidnapping by professionals.
"You got me huh?" I said, with this stupid grin on my face like if anyone could see it. "Can I at least know where you are taking me to die? The hole, canal, freezer?" I rambled on. Of course, no response, what was I to expect? How absolutely stupid I must be to get caught! I should have flown out of the country, gone to Malta or some shit!
The danger I was in never felt so real. The guns, the drugs and the women was so surreal. I've been in so many trades gone wrong, shootouts, even freaking executions and it was just like a passing breeze to me. Treated this meager life like a game, but now I'm the one being played. Played by the highest order of organized crime! How fantastic.
Spilling the beans, so to speak, made so much sense. Dumbass! "We'll protect you" and "Don't worry about it," those cops said. "We just need to verify this info and you'll get the call, meet us at this address and come alone, when we call you" said Lieutenant Stafford. Then again what was I to do, what they have on me, I'm looking at twenty in the penetentiary; informing on "Rat" and "Long Stock" was way easier.
Now I'm being dragged down these stairs to face my eventual doom. About one minute later we're in the cellar. Everyone's got a cellar, where else would you kill people? The two burly men dragging me, dumped me heavily on a chair and forced me to sit upright. "Take it off them." said a thick Russian accent, which just had to be Long Stock. The hood came off along with the ropes and the sock in my mouth. Even though the lighting was dim I could still make out Rat sitting right across from me.
Besides from all the men with large weaponry, also in the room was Long Stock, Lieutenant Stafford and a .44 caliber magnum, Smith and Wesson, model 629 V-Comp, sitting on a table between us. Here I am paying this dreadful game. Russian Roulette by the Russian, typical. "Both of you bastards betrayed me, but you also betrayed each other," droned Stock, " so one will die, the other would live and prove his worth to me!" He picked up the gun, put in the round, spun it and then snapped it shut!
"For some talkitive guys, they sure ain't saying much!" exclaimed Stafford, He and all the others shared a laugh. It was quite true, aside from "ratting" out each other and Stock, we both spoke a lot I recall, up until our dying moment. No doubt if I died, Rat would be soon after, that is only how things work; he talked once he soon will again. This is some kind of show or something like that, why else play this silly game? Just kill us both. It's always been about a show for Stock.
Stafford slammed the gun down on the table and spun it. It's good that I have nerves of steel, no time to be jumpy here. Bad luck suits me, or so Mom always said, so it was no suprise when the gun pointed at me first. Without hesistation I picked it up, placed it right at the temple and squezzed. CLICK, there was no real fear to die because it was sure to happen, today! Rat more timidly followed suit and was greeted by the same response. With greater resolve than before I went at it again fearing this may be the last and then another click.
I could see his hand shaking as he picked up the .44 again and so slowly put it to his head; I almost died of impatience. Much to his relief, another empty chamber. It was the fifth round now. If the bullet doesn't blow my brains out now, I would last another ten minutes before Stafford or Stock did it themselves. There is so much merit in not killing yourself that I began to pray, silently of course. My heart was pounding so heavily I am sure everyone could hear it. The stares, the ceiling, the impending doom all weighed down on me so hard I felt as though I would be literally crushed. CLICK!
Not sure if relief flushed all over my face, but I'm almost certain it did. I was alive and maybe Stock might keep his word and allow me to prove my worth, however degrading it may be I will most definitely do it. Being so close death made me realize how much I should really cherish life and now, I will be most sure to cherish it.
"Go on." Stafford urged Rat as his heavy hands clamberred on the gun. All of his movement was so unnatural; it was a struggle to look at him try to understand how to hold a gun as it slipped out of his fingers, clunking back onto the table. He gathered his resolve and grabbed it up ferociously. He placed it on his temple and smiled. Such a weird smile. Such a cunning smile. Before i could even process what was happening he pointed the gun at me and then BLAM!
