The last bullet (Russian Roulette) IC

[Imperial1917]

Imperial1917 sat at one of the ornate tables. The men and women all around were chatting nonchalantly, dressed in their finery. For her own part, Imperial1917 wore her school uniform. It was all white blouses and checkered skirts. Some at school hated them. She didn't mind. It was good enough to show up the rich suits around her, especially with the blue ribbons she bound her hair with.

She flipped through the magazine she was reading. Many of the people there had tried to talk to her. Mostly, of course, to encourage her to leave. "This is no place for little girls." they would say. Still, they would do nothing. They dared not. It didn't bother Imperial1917. She was much more interested in the new selection of ribbons on sale or the kittens available for adoption than the dull talk adults always seemed to find so fascinating.

She sighed as she looked at a picture of a kitten she would never have. Looking over the top of the magazine, she wondered when the show would begin.

[Breaking Point]

The guards escorted Ellie into the mansion. The sight of it all succeeded in distracting her, everything decorated elaborately and elegantly. She was not used to this. Her own home was small. Simple. Functional, but not a thing was worth much. She wasn't the only guest, and as she glanced around at the other people she found herself feeling out of place, odd. It wasn't that she wasn't used to the odd feeling, just that she knew not a single person in the room. What could be the importance of this?

Taking her place at the table, waiting, Ellie listened to the spill about the game, then she stood up. "Mr. SQJ. Just, I..." she mumbles, clearing her throat. What could she say? She hadn't developed any speaking skills. She felt like the youngest in the room, and she did not know how to phrase what she desired to say. Fingers twisting nimbly, Ellie braided her hair as the room waited in a slightly awkward silence. "Just why did you bring me here?" She asks. Of course, she was playing dumb. She didn't know how else to play, at least not any other way that could benefit her. "Are you saying that I have nothing to live for- I mean, I know I'm an orphan, but still." She glanced down at the ground, collecting her words.

She was believable, sincere, but then none of it was a lie, so it couldn't be otherwise. "I don't want to kill people. I don't shoot at people. I mean, I know I've done some bad things, but I can't kill people for money." Ellie stared at SQJ, hoping that her words had some impact on everyone else. "I would like to withdrawal." If SQJ didn't release her, which he wouldn't, maybe some of the other competitors would give her pity, some kind of sympathy of the sort. But who was she kidding? The vast majority of these people came here for cold blooded murder.

Ellie sat back down, leaning back in her seat, her gaze darting around the room and memorizing all the faces. She might not have a chance. She knew why SQJ wanted her here, but she didn't want part of it. Being exploited wasn't fun to her. She knew she had little chance. If the people knew her background or not, everything had horrendous downfalls. Her blood was her downfall. She was born into it. Dying was her only way out of it. Yet, Ellie didn't want death.

"This game is rigged," she murmurs, glancing around the room, her large blue eyes strangely innocent. Whether it was rigged or not, the other players probably didn't care. Everyone wanted their shot at the millions. Or billions. Or trillions- however much money there actually was.

[Mihkul]

Mihkul entered the game room and glanced around the table. There was only one other man here besides him and, of course, the host. The others were women, or girls barely out of their teens. He thought it odd that these young girls were willing to risk it all for what? Money? Or was it just the thrill of facing death. Mihkul had seen plenty of death..he had stared at it in the eyes of his dying victims, some filled with fear but others holding onto that last bit of defiance.

There were suitcases neatly stacked and the top one was opened to reveal gold bullion. That alone would be enough to buy an island like this. It was the larger suitcase that caught his attention, almost like Pandora's Box. It was always the unkown that seemed so enticing. It's what he loved about the TV show Let's Make a Deal. What was behind door number three?

There were placards in place at each seat with names. He found his and thought, this is like a typical fucking kindergarten school. He smiled, and sat down, feeling for his hidden Glock to be sure he hadn't dropped it, and then smoothing his kevlar vest beneath his cheap Sears and Roebucks suit. Then he waited for his target to arrive. One way or another he would accomplish what he set out to do, just as he always had.

[Froggy]

The distinct sound of knocking could be heard on her door. It had been a hot Texas day, the temperatures over ninety degrees with no chance of rain in sight. Juniper sighed, her eyes glancing fearfully at the door. She knew what they wanted...she'd received a letter in the mail several weeks ago and never responded. She knew by the tone of the letter that they wouldn't take "no" for an answer, so hoped that they would believe she no longer lived there if she simply...didn't respond. Her ranch was composed of a multitude of cattle, farm animals, and vegetables. She had a large, ornate vegetable garden that had once been her pride and dream...until the drought had hit, drying up the grass, the soil...and everything that thrived from it.

The animals were suffering, she'd been forced to sell half of her animals to local butchers in hopes of replenishing the farms. Then...she had received the letter. At first...she had been offended. The dying ranch was not an indicator of nothing more to live for, rather as a hope of something new. She had inherited the land from her parents after they passed and had been forced to take care of it ever since. It was amazing that she was still able to keep a couple of her cats, and one dog...but...her luck was running out and, soon enough, she would have to get rid of them too.

Knock...knock...thud.

Juniper rose from her seat on the couch, looking around at her family's land what may very well have been for the last time. If she survived...if she won...she would replenish this land and restore it to the former glory that she had once loved as a child. She would raise foster children, provide them essential skills necessary to thrive as an adult in any condition. "Miss Belle?" the voice of a man asked, his voice stern. "There is no hiding...surely you are aware of this," the voice called, and Juniper stayed quite for a moment longer...fear etched in her expression. "It's best to come quietly...we wouldn't want to hurt you before the festivities," another man said, and she looked around one last time...sighing desperately.

"There's no point in running either," the voice of another man chirped in, and he seemed more...smug about the ordeal than the other two. It made her wonder exactly how many people had come for her. "I'm coming," she said, rounding the corner of the couch and grabbing her pack. She didn't know how soon she would be tossed into the competition, if she would need a change of clothes or not. So, dressed in her most comfortable clothing...a pair of cowgirl boots with spears on the back, overalls, and a red plaid shirt underneath... she grabbed her pink cowgirl had with rhinestones on the front and opened the door, coming face to face with her three assailants. "You won't be needing the bag," the first man said, gesturing to the bag on her shoulder. She sighed and tossed it on the couch, closing the door and stepping out. As soon as she stepped out, one of the men grabbed her hands and zip tied them together.

"Just so you don't run," he said, smirking at her.

~~~~~~

Now, arriving at the festivities...all that she could see was chaos. Some of the competitors had, clearly enough, come of their own will. They were just as cold blooded as Mr. SQJ. Still...others had put up more of a fight than she had. "No, I guess I won't be needing that bag...will I Jack?" she asked the smug man. They had refused to tell her their names, so she had made nicknames for them. The smug one's first name was Jack, and his last was Ass. The first man, who seemed more impartial to the event, his first name was Jump, his middle was Offa, and his last was Cliff. She had to get crafty with the other one and had decided that she would simply refer to him as the Mad Hatter. It had been a game she had played with them on the way there, a game that none of them had liked. One that had at least occupied her time.

[SQJ]

The southern hemisphere was the perfect location for Christmas fun. Christmas was meant to be had during the summer, what was the point of uniting family in the winter when in summer one could walk away into the sun. It's also a good time and environment to have guests relax before they had to start trying to kill each other.

It was quite the turn out, both of those on the table and those watching from across the world. Thankfully of those seated no restraints were needed. Yet any way, after all some one always ran. Someone always pissed themselves, and occasionally someone shit their pants so hard it looked as though they were trying to use it as a weapon. Oh yes, they were a nightmare to clean but there was a reason there were over two hundred cameras and a microphone all around the house. It wasn't just the explosion of blood that came with the pull of the trigger, it had to do with each moment that built up to it.

Each and everyone of them looked like they would be good candidates. SQJ sat up straight and turned to each and every one of them, eyeing them from the volunteers to the offerees to the victims, who were just the wrong people at the wrong time. Picked by outside sources who were willing to pay millions even, just to see them panic, see them shiver and pull the triger or try and stand perfectly still as a gun was pointed at their heads, or see their heads explode.

The sick fucks.

But they were the sick fucks who were willing to pay while he made sure they got away with it. If evil truly existed in this world then he was it's muscle, it's enforcer.

But, thankfully Evil didn't exist. He was a business man, they were his assents. In the same way a butcher thought of his cows and the clients who bought the meat. Capitalism was truly great.

It took time but each one of them had been seated and made to face SQJ who stood up when they were all seated and crossed his arms and uncrossed them, pointing to each and every one of them as beautiful young women stepped forward and dropped glass cases on the table in front of them, they opened to reveal revolvers.

Each revolver was silver, sleek with black handles. Their names were engraved onto each and every gun, by the handle were two lights, a green light and a red light. Next to the guns were a single wrist band.

"The game is simple point the gun at any one with a wrist band and pull the trigger. Each gun has already been spun and each gun is set to a random place. Feel free to point the gun anywhere you want but know." He picked up Breaking Point's gun and winked at her before pointing the revolver at his head and pulled the trigger. The red light went up and there wasn't so much as a click. He threw the wrist band to one of his men who strapped it to a struggling maid, she dropped and fought, screaming as the wrist band was snapped on.

SQJ crossed to the other side of the room and stood over her as she screamed and pulled the trigger.

-click-

He burst out laughing as the wrist band was pulled off of her and SQJ spun the chambers continuously until he put it back down in the case and put the wrist band on her wrist himself.

"We have the whole weekend to play so take your time. Build up your courage accept death if you have to. I don't mind. And no breaking point, there is no backing out. There's trying to back out, which won't get you killed, but will get you dragged back in. There's trying to shoot your way out, but the guns are only rigged to shoot at those with wrist bands which when they are locked with a key, stay locked." SQJ winked at her and pulled out what looked like a black of plastic which beeped and the wrist band tightened on her wrist. "There's trying but it would be easier to just get along with the game, rigged or not. PS. The gun that lights up is the gun that is allowed to shoot. There's donner in the next room, a PS4 in the next, and a Bar in the next Micasa is Su Casa. And the game starts....."

SQJ nodded his head and the gun with The Cockatiel engraved on it. "...Now. Have fun. Good luck! "

[.Karma.]

She sat in her chair, her feet up on the table, leaning her chair back on two legs with her hands behind her head. She listened and observed, she really didn't expect kids to be here. That was going to be hard. And here she thought this would be a breeze.

She wasn't hearing a whole lot of what he was saying, only shoot someone with a bracelet blah blah. She just wanted to get too it. She thought about strategy. She needed to take out the ones she was going to have the hardest time killing first. Like the younger ones. BUT if she targeted them first, would she become a target? Still she didn't want to get soft hearted in the end when a kid gives her puppy dog eyes.

Through her thoughts she heard something about a bar and jumped up, but in doing so she fell backwards, rolling onto the floor. She glared up daring anyone to laugh at her, stood up and stomped the direction of the bar, not noticing and not really caring if he was still talking or not. How hard could it be. Point gun, shoot. Try not to die. That was where it was going to be hard. She had a hard time making connections, most people didn't like her, and she didn't like them.

[The Cockatiel]

Cockatiel wondered for the fifty millionth time how she'd gotten here. Oh, yeah, that's right - kidnapping. Now she was being told that she had to kill everyone else in this room to get out alive. She was going to die soon and it wasn't going to be the way she'd expected it to happen. She picked up the pistol, feeling the cool hardness of the stock in her hand. She couldn't do this.She had to do this. There was no choice. The tip of her finger traced over the trigger and came to rest on the edge of the trigger guard. She had to do it. 'Come on,' she thought, gazing briefly at each person in the room. 'You know exactly how you have to do this. Like hunting in the woods with Dad, except the target is different this time. Breath in and breath out and never let your nerves shake the trigger.' Lifting the pistol, she cocked the hammer, leveled it at the person across from her, and fired.

Cockatiel fired at Mikhul.

[SQJ]

SQJ gritted his teeth to keep from showing his own amusement as Cockatiel lifted the big ol gun and aimed it at the first target of the day. It looked to be Mikhul, his grin widened but he turned away when his phone messages stole his attention. He couldn't just be sitting there. There was more to be done than just watching people die. He wasn't some fan. He WAS the show.


-CLICK!-

Gun doesn't Fire.

The next gun has lit up.

[Elizabeth16]

At some point the men had drug her to a room that looked like a formal dining hall at Christmas. It wasn't so much drug as it was her following in an angry and fuming quiet way. They put a wristband on her, her thoughts vaguely following that she wouldn't be able to shoot unless it was her time. The men put the cold metal gun in her warm hands, and left her standing. She didn't know how to feel about it. Any of it.

There were some people who seemed happy to be here. Some who had a cold glint in their eyes that made the guns seem harmless. Already the hairs on her arm were shivering despite the warm room. After several minutes of silence, Eli raised the gun and shot with eyes closed. Surely there wouldn't be a bullet so soon.

Eli shoots Imperial1917.

[SQJ]

Things were moving faster than SQJ had expected, in the moments he'd gotten up from the table and gotten moving, to the moment he'd stepped into the control centre he's missed a solid wall of cheering. All eyes were glued to the screen, why, he didn't know. But upon looking on the screens he saw the next lit up gun being raised. It was the fitness girl! And she had her gun raised, some how. Of all that had been drugged in against their will of all those he'd expected her to break last. But she hadn't, the gun was up she was aiming at Imperial, the trigger pulled! SQJ grinned, this was what it was all about. There were no clichés in a world that did not exist to the impoverished masses. This was what the sick fucks paid for!

-CLICK!-

Gun doesn't Fire.

The next gun has lit up.