MicroHorror

“If you want to play my game, you play by my rules.”

“All right, name them already. I don’t have a lot of time. Let’s get this started.”

Joseph loaded two bullets into the revolver and spun the chamber before snapping it closed. “I play with two bullets. The first one dead, loses. Two hundred dollars, cash, up front.” A wry smile twisted across his face.

“Sounds easy enough.” Shane laid the last of his savings on the table. “Let’s get this over with.”

Shane was addicted to gambling. He was also terminally ill. Cancer had nearly incapacitated him completely. He ran out of money thanks to his gambling debts. Russian roulette seemed to be a win-win situation for him. He could pay for medical procedures or die quickly. He didn’t care which anymore.

Joseph slid the revolver to Shane’s side of the table. “You first.” Joseph loved seeing the fear on his opponents’ faces.

Shane held the gun to his temple. His eyes burned into Joseph’s.

The gun clicked, Shane’s eye twitched and then the corner of his mouth curled up. He won round one. His spirits lifted slightly.

Shane slid the gun back to Joseph.

Joseph put the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger with no hesitation. Another click.

The gun slid back to Shane.

Shane took the gun and slowly raised it to his head again. A bead of sweat ran down his cheek. Joseph grinned. The gun clicked again. Shane exhaled and laid the gun down quickly.

He slid the gun to Joseph.

Joseph lifted the gun again. He pressed it to his temple and pulled the trigger. A cloud of gray dust blasted out the side of Joseph’s head.

Shane’s hands quivered. Joseph was still smiling. He slid the gun back to Shane.

Shane kept his eyes on Joseph, awestruck by the horror of what he just witnessed.

“It’s your turn. The first one dead, loses, remember?”

Shane took the gun with a trembling hand. He put it to his temple and pulled the trigger.

Joseph always wins. He’s lived now for nearly three hundred years and this is his favorite game.