Chapter Text
It’s been a great day for Chance, not a single penny lost this whole evening. Itrapped had even given them a pat on the back for winning! Something he rarely did with them... Which... yeah, it was kinda weird... They were supposed to be partners, but it felt more like they were friends.
But that didn’t matter to Chance, the man still showed affection even if it was a minimal amount.
That’s why when Itrapped did show affection, Chance always leaned into it, longing for more of it. It was addicting... Itrap’s affection was addicting, as addicting—no, maybe more addicting than their love for the thrill of gambling.
It’s probably the reason why they always easily folded when it came to Itrapped. Itrapped could make Chance do basically anything with just words alone. His voice was enchanting, always soothing. A comfort that, like his affection, was limited. When Itrapped spoke, Chance listened. They knew this wasn’t healthy but hell, everything they did wasn’t healthy. The gambling, alcohol... hehe, yeah.
There were some days where Chance had to avoid Itrapped, lest they wished to be the thing Itrapped lashed out at. Sure, it hurt sometimes, to have to avoid their lover, but it was necessary. Even Itrapped said that it was to protect them.
{ T̴h̵a̷t̷ ̴w̸a̷s̵ ̵a̸ ̵l̶i̴e̵,̶ ̸a̵n̴d̵ ̷t̶h̴e̶y̵ ̵k̸n̷e̵w̸ ̵i̴t̷,̴ ̴b̴u̴t̸ ̶t̵h̴e̸y̸ ̴r̶e̶f̷u̷s̶e̴d̷ ̷t̶o̵ ̸l̴i̴s̷t̶e̵n̷ ̵t̸o̷ ̴t̸h̶e̷m̷s̶e̵l̵v̴e̴s̸.̸ ̴A̶ ̶s̸t̵u̵p̷i̸d̴ ̶m̸i̵s̶t̸a̵k̵e̴ ̵t̷h̴a̸t̸ ̷w̷o̶u̸l̴d̶ ̵c̷o̴s̷t̶ ̴t̶h̵e̴m̴.̶ }
Speaking of a great day, Itrapped had told them to meet up with him at the VIP lounge— shit, they almost forgot. Chance would quickly depart from the table, taking their chips and cashing them in before heading to the VIP Lounge.
The nicely decorated room was quite welcoming, and there, seated on the velvet couch, was Itrapped. A smirk visible on his face as he saw Chance enter.
“Chanceyyy! How nice of you to finally join us,” Itrapped said, his voice dropping into a sweet but dangerous tone. “I was beginning to think you dropped out on me.”
“Me? I’d never, I.t.!” Chance exclaimed, their voice a bit shaky as they responded. “Got a bit lost in gambling, cariño, was winning big!” They grinned as they walked over to Itrapped, their arm draping around the other’s neck as they leaned onto his shoulder.
Itrapped would swiftly push Chance off of him, standing up as he spoke. “You know, I made a few new friends who’d love to play a game with you. I have a feeling you’d love this game, after all, the thrill of potentially losing is what you love... isn’t it?”
“Yeah! What’s the game and with who?” The reply came quick, the game piquing the Gambler’s interest.
“You’ll see.” Itrapped chuckled, opening the door as he led Chance into one of the back rooms. A circular table sat in the middle with Chance’s revolver, four seats set around the table.
“H-Hey... you—” Chance sputtered, their voice catching in their throat. They knew what game Itrapped implied. Russian roulette. A game notorious for causing the deaths of many unlucky gamblers. It was the one game that Chance avoided like the plague. “Itrapped... how about— you know, a different game would probably be more fun... and safer!”
“Aw, scared, Chancey? I never thought you’d be a coward...” Itrapped placed his hands on Chance’s shoulders, pushing them into a chair as two other people took their seats—wait... what? Where did they come from...?
Chance was confused—scared even. This wasn’t normal—shit. “Itrapped, I don’t really want to pl—” Their voice pleaded, but was cut off by Itrapped.
A grip tightened on Chance’s shoulder, holding them still as Itrapped spoke, “Just one round. One in six chances.”
Chance nodded hesitantly. It was one in six chances... They had Lady Luck on their side, they’d be fine... hopefully.
Itrapped’s grip loosened as he took his seat, spinning the revolver... The gun landed on Chance as they mentally cursed themself out. They grabbed the gun, their hand shaking as they put it to their head, their eyes closing for a second as they felt the adrenaline kick in.
CLICK.
Chance grinned—FUCK, they owed Lady Luck. They quickly noticed the grim but surprised expressions on everyone around them as they placed the gun back in the middle. The next person took the gun, putting it to their head. Their hand was shaking... shaking too much—
BANG... Thud...
The gun fell to the floor as the man’s head violently flew back, the chair nearly falling backwards as both Itrapped and the other person looked at the man, horrified.
“H-How...” Itrapped’s voice could barely be heard over his disbelief.
“Itrapped, is there something wrong...? It’s 1/6, right? You should be fine.” Chance attempted to reassure Itrapped, much to the other’s dismay.
“How...?” Itrapped repeated, his voice filling with rage this time.
“How what—” Chance repeated.
“Six rounds... HOW DID IT NOT KILL YOU?” Itrapped shouted.
“I don’t under—” Chance stammered, trying to calm him.
“No...” Itrap repeated, laughing... “No... you should be dead. YOU SHOULD BE DEAD.” Itrapped spat, grabbing the gun and pointing it at Chance. “HOW ARE YOU ALIVE?”
Chance’s eyes widened as they saw Itrapped point the gun at them. “Itrapped— please— I don—”
“SHUT UP, IT DOESN’T MATTER NOW.” Itrapped pulled the trigger, though it wouldn’t go off. Instead, the handle started to heat up before it exploded in his hand, shrapnel flying everywhere.
“ITRAPPED!” Chance ran to Itrapped’s side, quickly grabbing their phone as they tried to call for help. Blood pooled from Itrapped’s injuries, bits of the revolver embedded in his face and body.
“F-Fuck...” Itrapped coughed, blood spluttering from his mouth as he glared at Chance. “H-How... you were suppos’ to die...” His words slurred as he continued his tangent. “You’s uppose to die...”
“W-What...” Chance’s voice was shaky as they dropped their phone.
“B-Bastard... could’n eve’n realize... th-the... truth...” Itrapped hissed as his eyes grew cloudy.
“What do you mean, cariño...?” Chance knew what he meant, they knew. They weren’t dumb... The rational part knew... But they couldn’t accept it unless—
“G-Go to hell....” Itrapped muttered as his eyes rolled back, his body going limp against Chance. The crimson blood now felt much heavier than it was previously. The world felt heavier... Their golden eyes fading to a dull red as they stared wide-eyed at Itrap’s body, unable to move... unable to comprehend. Trying to reason. Reason the last words Itrapped said... They didn’t mean it... they didn’t—...
{ T̸h̷e̷y̷ ̷d̶i̴d̶.̵ }
A tear rolled down their cheek as they remained there... motionless.