Scottsburg. 10:10 pm.
Old fire station No. 12
The announcer raised a long finger and pointed across the table. "Player number seven— 'THE EXECUTIONER' Mbali!" The crowd exploded even louder. "EXECUTIONER!!" Mbali drag her chair closer to the table—tattoos crawled up her neck and a stitched scar ran across her brow like a lightning bolt. She cracked her knuckles. Antonio watched her closely, Kojo leaned in. "Be careful of her, Toni. She ain't in it for the pot. She in it for the love of the game." he said. Mbali grabbed the dice and licked her wrist "Hope y'all prayed." she stated 'CLACK—Clack—clack.' The dice spun with violent force… then; 11, the reaction of the crowd was instantaneous. The announcer laughed so hard he bent backward. "Eleven! The DEATH Tier!" Antonio felt his stomach twist. He faced Kojo "What's 'Death Tier'?" he asked. Kojo didn't smile this time. "That's when the game stops being about money." he responded. The announcer banged on the rail. "Round Three: merchants paradise; has already begun and penalty is mandatory. As per death tier, player's Bounty is off limits until stated otherwise… stakes have risen, so have the consequences. Because Mbali raised the bar, the number seven is the only safe number. If player rolls from one to six, the pot doubles as well as the penalties. Roll over seven, you can direct a certain penalty to a player… but with our house rules; the player you chose to bleed is now available to challenge the penalty, with the cost of ten stacks. If a player rolls a seven—the player has achieved the snake… and outcome is still the same; he or she may knock anyone out or stake something personal. This occurs upon Death tier being activated. Now, Mbali… since you threw that glorious number—who will be your choice of target?" Mbali rolled her neck
"I want that little bitch, Monroe, gone." she said. Two enforcers dragged out the Death Box—a steel case with scorch marks and blood stains. They unlocked it, smoke came out. The announcer shoved his hand into the box and pulled out a chain whip with hooks on it. Half the crowd screamed in delight. "Alright ladies and gentlemen—Lace Monroe, must take a minimum of three strikes to her back per player roll—and she will be hung upside down for the rest of the tournament."
Monroe stood up—her head sunk, she laughed then she tried to rush to the exit. Two bodyguards already blocked her way, but… BANG! Monroe collapsed to floor. "Ahhh!" she screamed in terror, blood oozed from her leg "You can run but you can't avoid." the announcer said "Guards, take her to compartment zero, make sure she learns her lesson. Torture her until the tournament is complete."
"What, w-wait… no way, that goes against house rules." Monroe argued. The announcer laughed "Oh baby girl, you went against house rules. 'No exits until the game says so' you have forgotten one of the main rules." he said "Now, take her away." the announcer waved them off. Antonio's eyes widened, the announcer handed the whip to one of Kojo's men—a tall guy named Dalton. Two more guards held Lace tightly, as they drag her away from the room into another department of the fire station. Lace did not cry, instead she was exhilarated and she laughed like a maniac as they dragged her into another room. The announcer raised his megaphone. "Monroe's penalty is in full effect! PENALTY IS NOW COMPLETE! Now, we move onto the next player!"
Mbali flung her legs on the table, as she locked eyes with Antonio briefly. Antonio felt the pressure now. The announcer's voice cracked over the megaphone "Player number three, the one y'all been waiting for— Give it up for; Barkus… The Bull!" The basement chants exploded instantly. "BULL! BULL! BULL! BULL!"
A massive figure stood from the far end of the table. Nearly seven feet in height. His neck is built like a tree trunk. Shoulders wide enough to block a doorway. His arms thick, tattooed with prison ink that looked carved instead of drawn. He cracked his knuckles once—the sound echoed like a gunshot. "Careful. Barkus kills people without meaning to… and sometimes with meaning." Kojo whispered to Antonio. Barkus stepped to the dice table, he did not speak, he just slammed his massive hand on the table—BOOM! The dice jumped into the air from the impact, the entire table trembled. Some spectators stumbled backward. "A-alright, let the bull play then!" the announcer staggered but kept his composure. Barkus scooped up the dice and rolled. 'Clack—clack—clack'. The dice hit the barrier then stopped; 12, The crowd lost its mind "Double Six!" The announcer raised both arms like a prophet. "TWELVE!!" Even Kojo tensed up, Kojo did not look at Antonio this time. "Call Challengers objection, if he picks you." he murmured. The announcer slammed his fist on the rail. "Alright people… I as announcer, place a personal stack on the table." he said, as he placed a finger on the railing—CRACK! He chopped it off with soulless expression, then he tossed it into the ritual bowl. "I invoke Host's call, rule number thirty-three; with my personal stack, I add a multiplier with increased probabilities. All penalties become fatality-level. And the pot—" The numbers rushed and climbed on the screen above them. '12,650,000… 13,200,000… 16,900,000… 18,400,000… 20,700,000' He pointed at the giant metal counter on the wall. Spectators shrieked as it kept climbing, then it stopped at '25,000,000.'
Twenty-five million Bucks. The entire basement shook with insanity. Fights broke out from excitement. A guy got tossed across the room and landed in a trash bin. Kojo slowly grinned "There it is." he murmured, Antonio turned to him "There what is?" he asked curiously. Kojo finally looked at him dead in the eyes "Your real invitation." he added. Antonio froze. "What?"
"You think I brought you here just to watch dice?" Kojo asked softly. "Nah, Toni. This is your proving ground. The pot's big enough. The danger's real enough. Now we see if you got the spine for the world you want to enter." Antonio's heartbeat dropped into a cold void. Kojo wasn't testing his luck. He was testing his nature. The announcer finally regained control. "ALRIGHT! Barkus must still complete his turn." Instant silence. Even the lights seemed to dim, Antonio's stomach flipped. A spotlight swung from face to face around the table. Then the spotlight stopped on Antonio, his heartbeat spiked. The announcer raised his hand "So, what will Gonzalez do?" The crowd groaned. Antonio exhaled shakily. "From a full house roll. Probability of a fatal punishment, Antonio—What's it going to be, die or will you challenge him?" The spotlight burned hot on Antonio. He swallowed and felt every eye bore into him. He clenched his fists. "I'll call… challengers' objection." he said. The announcer's grin widened, crooked and gleeful. "Challengers objection it is!" he bellowed. "The player must roll a seven in order to be safe from judgement." Barkus's eyes narrowed. Antonio's pulse raced as Kojo leaned in close "Remember." he whispered, "this is more than the dice. This is survival. One wrong move, and you're the one bleeding." The announcer slapped the rail again. "Re-trail begins!" He gestured to the dice. "ROLL. SURVIVE. WIN. OR DIE." Antonio picked up the dice, the crowd leaned in closer. Then he tossed the dice. 'CLACK—Clack—Clack'. The dice hit the table, then landed; 7, the announcer's voice boomed. "SEVEN! High risk-high reward! Pot increases, stakes reach an all-time high with host's call; increased probability multiplied every player's bag and is now added to the main table. Barkus offense is now overruled. And Gonzalez now has a snake, or he could pose a personal stake." The crowd roared louder. Some cheered him on. The pot counter shot up like wildfire. '25,000,000… 31,000,000'
Antonio glanced at Kojo, Antonio felt it now—the truth he had sensed earlier. Kojo didn't bring him here to play dice. He brought him here to forge him, to test whether he had the nerve, the control, and the instinct to survive in a world where only the strong, the clever, and the ruthless endure. The dice were not just gambling; the penalties were not just punishments. This was a crucible and Antonio had just survived the inferno. The announcer stepped onto the center platform, raising his megaphone high. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN… creatures and criminals… the declares an elimination round!" The crowd exploded. The announcer continued… "In this round, the three lowest performers… will be removed from the table, and they shall walk away with nothing—but their life… but two will simply lose the game…" He lifted a finger. "But the third… dies." A hush fell. "Good luck, amigo. This is where the table cleans itself." Kojo told Antonio. One by one, the remaining players lunged forward. The pot had climbed past '37,000,000'.
Tango picked up the dice, he finally closed his eyes then he tossed the dice. 'CLACK—clack—roll'; 4, The announcer chuckled darkly. "Low roll! Tango sits at the bottom." Tango smiled as the crowd booed. Next Mbali grabbed the dice… Then she flung it. 'CLACK—Clack—clack'; 11, The crowd roared her name. She smirked at Antonio. Next Barkus scooped up the dice… And tossed it across the table. 'CLACK—Clack—clack—roll'; 5, A growl of frustration ripped from his chest. He slammed his fist on the table. Marlow was next, he picked up the dice and violently shook it in his hand… then he slammed it on the table. 'CLACK—roll—clack', His eyes widened with fear as his dice stopped in the middle of the table with the spotlight; 2, Marlow froze… because he knew what was going to happen. The announcer's megaphone crackled. "OH? how unlucky… the lowest roll possible has made Its return—But at a horrible stage of the game." The crowd lost it… Some folks walked out, and some erupted with joy. Finally, Antonio's turn. The basement fell silent. Every face turned to him. Antonio rolled. 'CLACK—clack—clack—clack—roll.'; 10, The announcer called out the standings "In first place Mbali with Eleven. Second…Antonio with Ten. Third Barkus with Five— Fourth Tango with a lucky Four… And in last place—Marlow scoring the lowest with two."
"Bottom three." he declared "prepare yourselves." A metal gate slid open behind the table. Guards emerged out with a hooded figure that carried a long, polished machete. The crowd went feral. Marlow shook from deep within his soul. "No… no… no man, I rolled low but Tango—he…"
"Shut up, rat." Tango snarled.
The announcer raised a hand. "The house has chosen…" The lights flickered. A drum beat began—hollow and ritualistic. "One." Marlow fell to his knees. "Two." Barkus spat on the floor, ready to fight. "THREE!" The spotlight glared upon Marlow. "No! No… no… no, p-please—PLEASE!" he screamed. The guard stepped forward unhurried—and swung with full force. 'SHINK—THUD!'
The head of Marlow rolled out of the Spotlight… And the guard caught it with his foot. The basement exploded in cheers. Blood sprayed across the floor; it pooled around the table legs. Spectators jumped and screamed and threw their money into the air. Mbali didn't even blink, Barkus laughed, Kojo smirked. Antonio… stood still, his expression unreadable and his was Stomach tight. He didn't like this thrill. He didn't like how easily the others enjoyed it. The announcer raised his megaphone again. "We are down to our finalists! MBALI and GONZALEZ!" The crowd boomed with energy. Lights swirled as the Guards dragged away Marlow's corpse. Fresh chips were placed on the table and the pot climbed again. '40,000,000… 55,000,000… 60,500,000'
"Final round. One roll each. Highest roll wins it all, and an extra die will be introduced to this final round. The winner takes it all! The loser walks out empty handed—but at least they survive." Antonio looked across the table at Mbali, the dice were placed between them. "Finalist… Step up!" the announcer roared. The lights flickered harder now, like the building itself knew the game was reaching its breaking point. Blood already streaked parts of the concrete floor. Chips piled high on the table. Only two players remained. Kojo watched from the edge of the pit, he had not blinked since the last elimination. The announcer raised both hands. "Final two! Final rolls! No mercy, no appeals and no interruptions—or you join the bodies." Mbali cracked her neck twice. Then she leaned forward with a grin that could peel paint. "Tough night, Gonzalez?" she whispered. "Or are you still pretending you know what you're doing?" Antonio didn't respond, she smirked. "Good." she said. "Let me make this easy for you." She picked up the three dice, then slammed her hand onto the table and tossed the dice. 'CLACK—CLACK—Clack—clack—roll.' They ricocheted off stacks of chips, then they stopped; 6. 6. 5,
"That's the Execution Roll." Tango whispered from the crowd.
The announcer grinned with excitement. "Category seven: Multiplier has tripled. Prize renewal, Betting gates have closed for the final roll, the Ancient Empires may now place their winning bet, either for Mbali or Gonzalez—and remember, he only has one chance and one number." The pot spiked instantly. Screens on the wall recalculated. '61.6 million.' Mbali leaned toward Antonio "You hear that? Sixty-one million. You won't walk away with any of it—Kojo knows it… and deep down, you do too.", her voice low and venomous. Antonio's jaw tightened. She tapped her lips with a manicured finger. "You don't belong here, Gonzalez. You're a charity case. The replacement. The one Kojo dragged in because he needed a puppet." she stated. She leaned even closer. "And maybe… just maybe… a corpse." The crowd hissed. A few laughed nervously. The announcer lifted his hand. "Mbali Legato's score is locked in. Antonio Gonzalez—Final and decisive roll." The arena slammed into silence. Antonio picked up the dice slowly. The weight in his hand felt heavier than before, his pulse thudded in his ears. The world seemed to shrink to the silver table beneath him. Then he remembered… Katherine's voice. Stephen's drunken laugh in the car. Amanda's side-eye at Jack's Liquor. And Max's menacing eyes. And underneath all that, he exhaled once, then rolled.
'CLACK—CLACK—Clack—clack—Roll—roll.' They settled. The announcer leaned forward, his eyes grew wide. The crowd surged forward as one and Mbali's smile vanished, as Kojo's eyebrows lifted just barely. Antonio stared at the numbers "No fucking way." he muttered. Because the dice had landed on; 6. 6. 6,
A collective scream tore through the fire station basement. Someone shouted, "THE DEVIL'S ROLL!" Someone else threw up. The announcer dropped his mic "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! It has been twelve years since this hand has been replicated. I never thought I'd get to see it twice in my entire life!" Mbali stood frozen, the announcer slammed his fist on the rail. "The Plot twist of the century! The stakes multiplied! The pot rises again!! Total winnings, 79,2 million bucks!!! ANTONIO GONZALEZ somehow takes the lead" The crowd exploded into pure chaos. People screamed, others ran for the exits. Kojo just nodded once.
"Looks like you're the charity case." Antonio whispered to Mbali. She stood frozen, her eyes locked on Antonio like she tried to solve a puzzle she swore had no answer. And yet… her hand shook. "Impossible!" she muttered. "No one rolls that. Not here. Not in this house." her voice cracked. "Yeah… but I did." he replied.
The announcer staggered to the table like a priest who saw a miracle. He raised both hands
"By the rules of the Golden Dice Royale… by the blood that had fallen before you… by the contracts signed in this room" The room hushed. The announcer slammed his hand down on the table. "The winner… of seventy-nine million, two hundred thousand… and the survivor of the 30th Annual royale—ANTONIO GONZALEZ!" The crowd erupted. Mbali suddenly lunged toward Antonio "You think that makes you better than me? This wasn't luck. Someone put their finger on the scale for you… I know it." she spoke. Antonio did not respond, he just tilted his head slightly. "I'll see you around—Playboy." She slammed her fist into the table, then she stormed through the crowd, she shoved people aside. A few spectators ducked like she might snap their necks. Kojo watched her go, "She'll come back. They always come back." he said. Kojo waved to his men. A heavy metal case was dragged from beneath the elevated platform, chained on both sides. Two guards flipped the latches. Inside were bundles of cash stacked in rows, wrapped tightly. Kojo nodded at Antonio. "This is yours." he said. "Nearly every cent. Earned fair… mostly." Antonio didn't smile. Antonio lifted the case with both hands. Kojo placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let's get out of this basement." he said softly. "Before people start thinking of reasons it should have been them instead of you." They moved through the crowd, Kojo pushed open the heavy steel door that led upstairs. The noise of the basement muffled instantly. Only the hum of broken fluorescent bulbs followed them. "You did good tonight. Better than I expected." Kojo complimented. Antonio didn't answer, Kojo glanced at him. "Don't look at this like a curse." he said. "Look at it like an opportunity."
"Feels like both." Antonio replied. "That's how you know it's real." Kojo stated. They reached the stairwell. Kojo unlocked the door to the outside. Cold night air washed over Antonio; the old fire station stood quietly from the outside. Like nothing had happened. "Chapter's over." Kojo said. "But—don't forget to wire my twenty percent." he added Antonio looked down the empty street. His pulse still raced. His hands still shook and his life changed forever by three dice. He exhaled "Don't worry about it." he stared at Kojo "We'll talk later." he said as he marched to his car.