Unknown POV
In life we are all expected to lead normal lives and the definition of a normal life means pursuing an education, getting a job, making money, pay the bills, taxes, obeying the laws, avoiding crime, and raise a good family.
Yet I must ask you all one simple thing.
Where's the fun in any of that shit?!
None.
There isn't any.
Life like that is just a long, slow bleed. Where the days are shaved down into numbers, your hours traded for pennies, and your dreams pawned off for stability.
You wake up tired, you go to sleep tired, and somewhere in between you convince yourself that this is fine.
That this is what it means to be human.
I say bullshit.
Fun is standing on the edge and feeling your heart hammer so hard it hurts.
Fun is that moment when everything you own.
Your money, pride, and future are all sitting on the table, and the dealer hasn't flipped the card yet. Fun is not knowing whether the next second is going to crown you king or bury you in the dirt.
That's when you're alive.
I learned that early maybe too early.
The first time I won big in a slot machine, I thought it was luck.
The second time, I thought it was skill.
By the third, I realized the truth it doesn't matter.
Winning wasn't the point and neither was losing either. The point was the rush, the unbearable pressure right before the outcome snapped into place.
That moment when the fever burns hot enough to make the world feel unreal.
That was what I always chased after in my life.
People called it an addiction.
They said I was throwing my life away, that I was chasing highs I could never afford to be consistent with.
I didn't bother listening to the brainless monkeys who could never hope to understand.
I kept going down the path of the fever.
Because when you're staring at the table, hands shaking, and odds stacked against you so hard it's almost funny, something clicks.
The fear in your chest fades.
Any regrets you might have disappears. There's only the gamble and the certainty that this right here is real.
Funny thing is, dying feels a lot like that.
I never even saw the truck coming.
Well, that's not exactly true.
I did hear it first.
A horn blared like an angry god with road rage, followed by the unmistakable sound of brakes screaming in protest.
I turned my head just in time to register a pair of headlights bearing down on me. There was a brief beautiful and stupid moment where my brain did the math.
Odds of survival? Low.
Odds of this being hilarious in hindsight? Surprisingly high.
Time slowed.
It always does when you're about to lose everything.
I remember thinking, very calmly 'huh so this is it, my luck at the dealing table has finally been flipped.'
Then the truck slammed into me with a loud bang.
I only felt a sense of weightlessness flying through the air, and the feeling of my white Jordans flying off from my feet.
Pain tried to register, took one look at the situation, and decided it wasn't worth the effort.
So as I lay there staring up at the night sky all I could really feel was content and sadness.
Content, because this was just how life was a big game of chance and the world in this moment had deemed my cards bad.
Sadness, because my fever was finally over.
The stars above me looked cheap like a bad ceiling mural in a rundown building. I wondered if that was all the universe ever was just lights meant to distract you while the house collected its due.
My chest felt heavy.
Not painful exactly.
More like a feeling of finality. Like the table had been cleared and the dealer was already reaching for the next deck.
People always talk about seeing stuff flash through their mind at the end of their life.
Flashbacks.
Loved ones.
Unfinished dreams.
I didn't get any of that.
No tearful montage, moral lesson, or meaningful moments with a loved one.
That's when it suddenly hit me that in my pursuit of the fever. I was left alone with no one beside me to share the win.
No cheering crowd.
No partner leaning over my shoulder, laughing like we'd cheated the universe together.
No one to slap the table and say holy shit, you actually did it.
Just me.
That realization hit harder than the truck ever could.
Funny how that works.
You can laugh in the face of death, but loneliness? That shit feels even worse.
My fingers shakily reached into my jacket where I pulled out a gold lighter and a cigarette.
My hands barely listened to me as I brought the cigarette to my lips. The lighter clicked once then twice, and on the third try, it sparked to life.
I inhaled.
The smoke tasted wrong, probably because I was dying.
I exhaled slowly watching the smoke drift upward and dissolve into the stars.
"Well...," I muttered, voice hoarse, "guess I really am cashing out."
I could feel my heartbeat grow even more sluggish and uneven, like a machine running out of power.
Each thump felt further apart than the last.
Bump...bubump.... bububump.
The cigarette in my mouth fell down rolling to the ground. While the light in my eyes turned glassy and empty.
I was dead and my story came to an end.
All I saw was darkness.
I tried to move around which was surprisingly easy to do when all I had to do was just think about it.
For an unknown amount of time I just floated around from place to place. However this soon became too boring for me If this was all there was to the afterlife then I was quite disappointed.
Suddenly something else pressed against the void.
A heavy pressure.
The darkness rippled folding in on itself like wet paper and from it something crawled out.
It was humanoid in the loosest, most insulting sense of the word.
It was too tall and thin. Its limbs bent at angles that made my non existent eyes itch. Skin like burnt oil stretched over a frame that looked half-finished, half-rotting.
Its face, if you could even call it that was a smooth mask split by a grin that went too far. Packed with rows of uneven teeth that clicked softly against one another.
Its eyes glowed a dull, greedy red.
Ah.
This must be a daemon or something "oooh it seems like the system of the afterlife tossed another poor unfortunate soul to the void by accident," it said, its voice layered, like several mouths speaking slightly out of sync "how unfortunate hahaha," it laughed.
Looks like this thing wants to eat me.
It drifted closer, each movement dragging the darkness with it like a cloak. I felt something tug at me not physically but deeper.
Like fingers reaching into my very being testing the weight of what I was worth.
"Come quietly," the thing murmured "and I will be quick in consuming you. If you run then your end will be quite agonizing I assure you."
A familiar feeling suddenly bloomed in my chest.
I gave the daemon the impression of a grin "...nah how about we gamble instead," I said.
The daemon paused.
I could feel its confusion ripple outward.
"What?"
I shifted meeting its gaze with nothing but audacity and confidence.
"You wanna eat me right?" I continued "that's fine by me but where's the fun in that?" I imagined the empty void around us into something that was much more familiar to me.
I didn't think it would work until the emptiness of the void was replaced with a train station.
Shutter doors slammed down in the distance, multiple digital numbers flashed overhead, and loud Brazilian phonk music began to play.
The demon recoiled with a hiss "what are you doing mortal?"
I laughed now "I'm saying," I replied projecting the mental image of my hands spreading wide, "let's make this interesting."
Between us, a pachinko machine slammed into existence with a heavy clang, its chrome surface gleaming under nonexistent lights.
"If I don't land a 7-7-7 jackpot then you can eat me," I said, "however, if I do land a jackpot and win I will take everything from you."
The daemon's grin suddenly widened sharp and eager "so you will wager your soul then?"
"Buddy," I said softly, "that's the only thing I can give up so yes."
For a moment, it hesitated then greed won it over "deal," it said.
The machine roared to life.
Lights exploded across the station.
Alarms blared.
The reels spun, faster and faster while the numbers blurred into streaks of color.
I could feel my fever begin to burn up higher
My odds of winning? Definitely awful, almost hilariously so.
My soul hammered like it wanted to burst my heart back into existence just to give out again.
This was it.
The edge.
The table.
Everything on the line.
The volume of the phonk music kicked in.
"Tuca donka! Tuca donka! Tuca donka!"
"DO YOU FEEL IT DAEMON ?" I shouted laughter tearing out of me as the fever inside of me suddenly ignited full-force "THE MUSIC?!"
The first reel slowed.
Click.
A number locked in.
The demon leaned closer, red eyes blazing.
The second reel followed.
Click.
My vision swam the pressure was unbearable now, like the universe itself was holding its breath.
The third reel spun.
Spun.
Spun.
CLICK!
The station went dead quiet.
Then finally a laugh escapes from me once more "HAHAHA 7-7-7 LOOKS LIKE IT'S A JACKPOT FOR ME BABY!!!"
Sirens screamed while multiple colors of lights detonated across the platform.
The machine shook violently as the energy from the Demon's body erupted outward, slamming into me like a damn tidal wave.
The demon screamed, its body distorting cracking as the field inverted "No! NO! WAIT YOU TRICKED ME!! WAIT DAMN YOU!"
Too late you sore loser.
The energy from the demon surged through me.
I felt full no that wasn't the right word to describe it, rather I should say overflowing. The demon's form unraveled its consciousness tearing apart thread by thread as it was dragged into me, compressed, and utterly destroyed.
I threw my head back and laughed the sound wild and unhinged
Then a white golden glow engulfed everything, and I soon lost consciousness.
-end of prologue-
So, tell me what you think of this so far
Also here's MC's future look with a hairstyle that was popular back in 2004.