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It was the day the young prince had sold his soul to the Devil.
Quincy Kingston Dice, the 21-year-old prince and current heir to his throne, had managed to sneak out of the castle and escape to the desolate yet quaint fairgrounds of Inkwell Isle III. The sun had just begun to set, sprinkling a faint dust of tangerine orange with a mix of royal blue into the blooming night sky and over the friendly residents of the Isles. The young heir attempted to disguise himself, covering the bottom half of his face with a soft purple scarf and scavenging what his parents would call 'peasant clothes', though they were far more comfortable than his normal exaggeratedly jeweled attire. So far, his guise had worked, though some occupants of the comfy little Isles did manage to discover his true identity. Quincy had sworn them to secrecy, which they had no choice but to abide by. He simply wanted a night to himself with no guards staring at him with piercing, nosy eyes, following him wherever he went and watching him like a hawk. Common folk would think that the life of a prince would be the complete height of luxury, as if sucking on a silver spoon and chasing maidens around an ivory tower would be considered a top-notch way of living one's fragile life. In reality, it was a total nightmare, having absolutely no privacy, having to look perfect 24/7, and having parents who kept their noses way too high up their asses to even consider giving you a lick of attention when you want to break from your royal duties and live a life for once. There was absolutely no reason for Dice wanting to leave, right?
Of course not.
Laughing children ran in front of the prince, happily playing with small paper boats, yoyos, and bouncy balls. It spread a smile across the nobleman's face, his gray eyes lighting up and illuminating his usual dim-lit irises. Bustling markets seemed so quiet at dusk, the shop owners setting up their small lights and strewing them across their places of business, along with the help of fireflies lighting up everything, making the place seem like a magical wonderland. It was way better than the thousands of crystal chandeliers that hung all over the palace ceilings, practically blinding Dice as he passed under each one. This lighting was far more subtle and visible to look at, leaving a warm feeling inside the prince's self. The island appeared to have an autumn aesthetic, even with the light fall of snow whimsically flying through the atmosphere. It was the beginning of winter, and Quincy Kingston's family was making preparations for their annual winter ball that occurred every year, where the prince or princess would dance with all of the eligible bachelors and the king would announce the date of their child's annual coronation. Naturally, only the princess would be forced to marry in order to rule, but throughout Dice's entire bloodline, the Dés Couronnés, the prince had to also marry in order to claim the throne, which he thought was absolute bullcrap. Nevertheless, he was promptly ordered to yield to his parents' contemporary rein, and he just prayed that when he takes over the throne, he would never wind up like his father. He promised himself that he would rule his people with the respect and kindness they deserved and set things right for future princes and princesses of his bloodline.
Dice was a strapping young man, black pips decorating the sides of his head, along with his beautiful gray eyes, rosy cheeks, and a clean-cut attractive face. He was about 6 feet tall at the time, and although being a boy, he did have curves curving nicely at his hips and making his legs look not so lanky. His chest was a little wide, not particularly buff, but big enough to at least be able to slip into his clothes. He considered himself lucky to be able to even BREATHE in his clothes, considering how tight they usually were and how the cuffs of his shirts cut into his wrists and left faint marks on each of them. He was grateful enough to not have his pajamas dig into his body as well and suffocate him while he was sleeping. So far, he hated his life, and wished he lived the life of the folk over at the Isles, but no matter how much he wished for it, it would never happen. A slight buzz of a firefly echoed itself through the prince's head, and he whipped his head around in a frenzy, startled at the sudden disturbance in the captivating silence.
"Woah! Oh, it was just you, little fellow. Don't you scare me like that." Quincy mumbled to the firefly as it circled his head, chuckling to himself. The firefly was a little one, about the size of a single popcorn kernel, and it was awful cute. It glowed brighter than the other fireflies, to the heir's surprise, and it perched itself on top of Dice's nose. He laughed, flashing a smile at the little insect, his straight pearly whites capturing the attention of two local young women, visible hearts swarming around their heads as they batted their eyes and sighed dreamily. Dice then realized his scarf had fallen down around his neck, uncovering his face, and quickly lifted it back over his mouth. The small firefly flew away from his nose, and Dice waved it goodbye with a gentle swift motion of his hand. He continued walking through the markets, glancing at everything that caught his eye, when he heard the loud sound of a trumpet and pounding footsteps. He turned around and saw a few guards, along with the King himself, their eyes darting about every person at the market. One of them pulled out a scroll and announced in a boisterous voice,
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of Inkwell Isle III! May we have your attention, please! We are currently searching for Prince Quincy Kingston Dice, who has managed to sneak out of the castle under the watchful eyes of our professional guards, and make himself known here! If any of you have seen him, please report him immediately and we shall take him back into our custody!"
Dice's heart began pounding out of his chest as the guards began questioning everyone, asking for his whereabouts. He looked all around for a place to hide, considering his options to whether ask a shop owner to hide him underneath their merchandise or to hide in a nearby bathroom. Then he remembered that he could hide behind the train tracks, where he knew would be the last place the guards and his father would look for him. When the royal guards and the King were not looking, he darted towards the train tracks, making sure he didn't knock over any small folk or children on his way. The agile prince jumped over the railing and instantaneously felt the wind go by as the train vigorously passed behind him, though he didn't feel it for long as he ran further past the railroad crossing into a damp, dark cave. It sent shivers down the scion's back, and he let out a sigh of relief. He knew the guards would continue looking for him, so he would just have to relocate before they arrived and spotted him. In the meantime, he decided to explore what laid beyond the cave, as blinding and colorful lights shone at the end of it, and vociferous voices and shouts echoed all throughout the large passage. His footsteps were the only thing that could be heard through the cold subterrane, aside from the clamorous voices, the likes of which Dice had never heard before in his life. He didn't know whether he preferred that or the dim silence of his parents' castle.
Once he reached the end of the cave, he was met face to face with a large building decorated with dazzling lights and loud jazz music playing from the inside. The doors were shut, reminisce of Quincy's red velvet doors that led into his dormitory, and the building itself set off so many red flags. The prince was clearly captivated by the sight, eyeing the large artificial dice adorning the sides of the red carpet that rolled into the establishment's golden doors and the humongous Devil statue that was built on top of the superstructure, with its conniving smile and yellow eyes that, for a split second, stared right into Dice's. The sign read 'CASINO' in big, white letters, printed onto a black platform and shining in more glistening lights. The young lad hadn't even realized that he started walking towards the casino, his legs appearing to have a mind of their own, his feet growing more demanding, more persistent with every step he took towards the installation. They began to wobble under the strain, almost as if he was in a trance, and they stopped right outside the casino's doors. Dice's whole body was completely stiffened, only his arms hung limply at his sides. The scarf he had kept over his face, the one part of his disguise that was essential, he had forgotten about completely at the moment. The world began to revolve in slow motion, Dice hardly blinking until he suddenly snapped out of his hypnotic state. He noticed his hand was reaching out towards the golden handle of one of the doors, and he shot it back and shook his head as violently as his present constitution would allow.
"W-what am I doing? What is this place?" He asked himself, wrapping his scarf back over his face. What had gotten into him? Why did he feel so transfixed to this place? He was about to turn around and walk away until a gray goat burst his way through the door and pulled him in.
"AH!" Dice yelped, making eye contact with the mysterious figure that had dragged him into the casino. Before he could say anything, the goat exclaimed with an all too excited voice,
"Hey, lad!! Wander too far from home, did ye?"
"E-excuse me...I-" The prince began to utter, but the goat put a hoof to his mouth, cutting him off.
"Not to worry, kid! Come on in, have a drink, play some games, make yourself comfortable!" The fluffy buck shoved the young die over to the bar and offered to buy him a drink. Dice made himself comfortable on one of the seats and rested his head on his arms, hunching his back. The smell of alcohol and smoke tickled his nose, causing him to pull his scarf tighter over his nostrils. The goat sat right next to him, wearing a dopey grin and looked at Dice with wide sunflower-colored eyeballs and cute black irises. He wore a baggy dark green trench coat that draped over his body like a curtain and had a little tufty beard at the bottom of his chin. He had small gray horns and a little black heart-shaped nose, and he looked way too friendly to ever be seen in a place like this.
"So what do you wanna drink, my boy?" The peppy goat asked.
"Oh! Um, I do not drink, my apologies." Dice replied, averting his gaze towards the coasters that held multiple bottles of half-downed beer. His newly-formed acquaintance cocked his head to the side, still wearing his wide smile, and lifted an eyebrow.
"Aw, c'mon! Not even one shot?" He asked, lightly punching the prince on the shoulder.
"No thank you. My father would have me executed if he discovered that I succumbed to drinking."
"Oh, a bit of a daddy's boy, aren't ya?" The goat asked as he sat up and asked the bartender for two shots of whiskey.
"A-ah, no! How could you say something so imprudent?!" Dice's cheeks were flushed pure red, hiding his face with the hood of his rummaged tan duffle coat.
Rambling sounds of chit-chat echoed throughout the walls of the casino as ongoing robust gamblers and card players were located all around. Flashing yellow, white, red, and blue lights shone all around the gambling establishment, reflecting along the poker chips and full bottles of wine and other assorted alcohols lined up neatly behind the bar. The owner was nowhere to be found, as they were probably tucked away in the reserve next to the casino, at least that's what the prince assumed that other building was, so of course the place was a ruckus and chairs and tables were being flaunt about everywhere. As a person was used to stepping outside and hearing the beautiful chirps of birds and laughter of children and townsfolk, the workers of this place were seemingly used to stepping into the casino and hearing the threatening shouts and bets of drunkards and dim-witted young men, along with the loud but catchy jazz music being performed by the band that stood in the middle of the institution. In this place, one could truly stir up trouble and belch from the scent of booze and cigarettes, and though Dice didn't exactly breathe in the cigarette smoke that seeped through every corner of the foundation, he began to feel dizzy and felt that he was going to blow chucks at any moment. Although he didn't have a normal childhood like every lollipop-licking or gum-chewing child that lived contentedly in little cabins and cottages down in the Isles, Quincy began to feel a little thankful enough to have a roof over his head and food on the table, not having to work in a place like this just to pay the bills.
"Is someone a dictionary reader or somethin'? Using a lot of big lingo there, pal!" The gray goat nudged the sovereign with his elbow, winking at him. The young die lifted the hood off of his face and stared right at his new colleague's eyes, planting a small pout on his lips.
"No. I just so happened to grow up in a formal household. My 'lingo' is clearly a result of the language used within my family." He replied. He didn't DARE talk about his origins in case any vital information would leak out and the goat would have no other choice but to report him back to his father.
"I see. Well, you're in the Devil's casino! Let loose, relax yourself! Here, first shot on me!"
"I told you, sir, I do not-"
Before Quincy could finish his testimony, the hollow-horned mammal practically shoved into his hands a shot glass filled to the brim with whiskey, then grabbed his own. Dice eyed the drink suspiciously, twirling it around and watching the ice inside dance around the glass and clink against each other. The liquid had a strong tinge of an apple juice color, but otherwise it was mildly clear. He never actually drank before, and he wasn't really expecting to start anytime soon.
First time for everything though, right?
"Cheers, mate!" The goat cheered, clinking his shot glass with Dice's and gulping the drink down in one swig. He banged his hand down on the table and demanded the bartender to give him another. Quincy took one last look at his drink before drinking half of the glass and immediately spitting it back out. It tasted absolutely vile and burned his tongue, and the nobleman pushed the rest of the drink away as he began to fan his tongue with one of his hands, using the other to shield the bottom half of his face with his scarf.
"That's putrid! How can someone drink that?!" He asked in disgust, blowing on his tongue and doing his best not to visibly gag. The goat flashed a toothy smile, putting a hoof over his mouth to stifle a laugh. He had three empty shot glasses sitting next to him, and the bartender was in the middle of handing him another when he said,
"Aw, you poor baby! Not used to some good ol' alcohol, aren't ya? Don't worry, bucko! This is your first time here, yeah?"
"Y-yes."
"Why didn't you say so? Oh, where are my manners?" The goat slapped his forehead and grabbed Quincy's hand, shaking it robustly.
"The name's Mephistopheles! Nice to meet ya!"
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is...D-Dice." The prince introduced himself. He found it rather odd that such a companionable man would be named after a demon featured in German folklore. He shrugged it off, however, as it didn't matter at that moment. He wasn't planning on staying in the casino for long, just until the search outside died down.
"Well, D-Dice! How 'bout a game of Craps?" Mephistopheles asked, jumping off his seat and tugging on Dice's sleeve. Dice lifted an eyebrow at him.
"Craps? What on earth is that?" He asked, a hint of mild aversion in his tone.
"Follow me! I'll show ya!" Mephistopheles proclaimed as he successfully swept Dice off of his chair and pulled him over to a nearby Craps table. He was like a child tugging on their parent's arm if they saw something they liked, and with the added fact of Mephistopheles's shortness, he had certainly looked the part. It made the young prince smile a little, taken over by the small goat's overly delighted grin and overall demeanor. Once the two made it over to the only empty Craps table, Mephistopheles assured,
"This game may seem a bit complicated and hectic, but trust me, you're gonna love it!"
"Alright. How do you play?"
The potential black-dotted die soon found himself gaining a winning streak at the Craps table. Refusing all of the money given to him, Dice attracted tons of patrons at his table. Though his main goal was not to attract too much attention to himself, he allowed the oncoming patrons to come and watch him gain more victories as he continued to play the addicting game. Mephistopheles stood at his side, cheering him on with every roll of the dice, boosting Dice's ego higher and higher.
"Hot dawg! This fella can't lose!" One of the patrons, a tall skeleton, exclaimed. Dice was planning on stopping to check if the coast outside was clear of all guards and his father, as he set the dice down and bid the customers farewell, but before he could leave, Mephistopheles grabbed hold of his jacket and looked up at him with big puppy-dog eyes.
"Aw c'mon, Dice! Just one more roll! Pweeeeeaaaasseee!!" He whined, quivering his lips to create a more innocent and pleading effect.
"I'm sorry, Mephistopheles, but I must head home! You understand, don't you?" He said, but that only caused the begging whines to grow louder from his new friend.
"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaassssssssseeeee!!!!" He complained, and with a roll of his eyes and a small smile, Dice slapped his arms to his sides, ultimately giving into his companion's demands.
"Alright, alright. One more roll, but that's it."
"Yay!!"
The pair strolled back over to the Craps table, and the clients hurrahed at the sight of the return of their reigning champion. Mephistopheles pushed Dice ahead and stood behind him, folding his arms neatly behind his back. Quincy grabbed the dice and shook it in his hand, but a booming voice ran through the casino as loud footsteps made their way over to his table.
"Nice run, boy," laughed a newcomer. A tall, slim fluffy figure cast itself out of the shadows, its yellow eyes glowing viciously. It was the casino's owner - the Devil himself, in all his fame and glory. "Now, how about we raise the stakes?"
Dice looked behind him to get help from Mephistopheles, but the small goat was nowhere to be found. He turned back around and stared at the Devil with an expression mixed with pure horror and slight confusion.
"W-wha-"
"Win one more roll and all of the loot in my casino is yours! But if you lose, I'll take your soul! Deal?"
Dice then noticed how the Devil wore the exact same dark green trench coat that Mephistopheles had been wearing, and once he connected the dots, he instantly grew furious. He didn't waste any time to think about his proposition. He slammed the dice down on the table and shook his head.
"I'm truly sorry, Mr. Devil, but I will not give in to your evil shenanigans. If you'll excuse me, I shall be taking my leave."
But before he could step one foot away from the Craps table, a long, fuzzy, and slender arm wrapped itself around his hip, pulling him into the Devil's shoulder. The demon took Dice's face in his hand and turned it towards him as he threw off his trench coat, and his eyes lit up as he got a better look at him.
"Ah! Prince Quincy Kingston Dice!" He boomed. Dice gasped, as well as the nearby patrons witnessing the event. He tried to push himself away, but the Devil's firm grip on his waist and determined look in his eyes told him it wasn't happening.
"What brings you to our lovely establishment? Shouldn't you be at home, kissing babies or whatever?"
Quincy's face steamed up when he heard that. He sighed and looked right back into the demon's conniving yellow eyes.
"You know, sir, if you really want your customers to continue making business here, that is not the right way to do it." He retaliated, the Devil roaring with laughter.
"You're a tenacious one, aren't ya, your majesty?" The Devil replied, licking his lips. Dice struggled against his grip, eventually breaking free. He panted a few times before brushing off the small strands of fur that got caught onto his coat and huffed,
"Now, like I said before, I shall take my leave. Good night, Mr. Devil."
"Ah ah ah! Didn't you hear what your good pal Mephistopheles requested of you? One more roll, he said. You gotta listen to your buddy, don't ya?"
Dice growled. He had the nerve to mention his so-called 'friend' and that made his blood brew and his skin boil. The prince shook his head and stated with a stubborn front,
"He may have been my 'friend', but I'm afraid I am going to have to decline. I cannot bear the thought of making business with the likes of you. Good da-"
The Devil's eyes suddenly became pure white as red magic laced through his fingers, swarming around Dice's body and drawing him back to the Craps table. Dice's eyes had become white as well, his mouth slightly agape as his hand reached for the dice. He appeared to be hypnotized, as nothing he was doing was by his own volition. He mustered all the strength he had, trying with whatever life was left in him to denounce the Devil's power and resist his pull. He was like a puppet on a string, forced to act out whatever the puppeteer had in store for him, who was the only person who could decide his destiny and life there out. Dice prayed there was still hope for him, for he kept trying, but unfortunately, he wasn't succeeding. Before he knew it, he snapped out of his catatonia at the sound of rolling dice.
"SNAKE EYES!! YOU LOSE!" The Devil roared as he loomed over Dice, who began trembling in fear.
"N-no! That's not fair!! You hypnotized me you SON OF A-"
"Language, your majesty! We're a family-friendly company!" The demon joked sarcastically. He then became utterly serious.
"Now, about your soul…"
"N-no! I…I c-can't give you…my…"
Once again, Dice felt as if he wasn't in control anymore. His mouth spoke whatever it wanted to speak, regardless of how he felt. It was almost music to the Devil's ears.
"Y o u m a y h a v e m y s o u l. . .mngh?"
The Devil began laughing again. It was a laugh of pure glee and accomplishment. He was ecstatic.
"Ahh…no…NO!!"
"Why not? Weren't you the one who rolled the dice? Now you gotta pay the price!" The demon questioned all too happily. His smile almost seemed to twinkle along with the sparkling lights of the casino.
"Please, there must be another way to repay you! I-I'll give you everything I have! Please!!"
"Hm…you make a rather fine offer. Tell you what. How about you leave your kingsmanship and serve me as my right-hand man? It would be terrible to lose such a handsome fellow like yourself! What do you say, my boy?" The Devil devised, pulling out a piece of parchment. Words magically appeared onto the piece of paper, along with Dice's name written in easily legible brush strokes using fine red ink. A quill magically appeared in the prince's hand as tears slowly streamed down his face. He signed his name on the dotted line in his beautiful cursive handwriting, and once he had done so, the contract disappeared. Dice collapsed to his knees at the sudden realization of what he had just done.
"Aaaaaaaahh…!"
The Devil clapped his hands together, holding his hand out to the devastated prince and mutating him, changing the color of his pips to purple and the color of his eyes to bright green. Quincy didn't move, however, as he simply stared at the ground with wide transfixed eyes, horrified with his actions. His eyes were like daggers or saucers, one couldn't really make out which. Either way, he was clearly traumatized, no doubt about that. Anger built inside him, a fire surely brewing, though he wasn't expressing it in the least.
"Now your new name shall be King Dice! Fit for a king, much like yourself." The Devil declared, puffing out his chest in utmost pride.
Dice, now with a newly-appointed name, felt clawed hands wrap around his waist as the Devil lifted him off the ground and onto his feet, and through the pain and fear he was currently subjected to, decided to fight back. Though knowing it wouldn't change a thing, he wanted to at least show the Devil that he could put up a fight. He shoved the Devil's hands, whose grapnels had begun to dig into his stomach, off of his waist and shot the devilish being a death glare. He was hysterical with rage.
"I loathe you…" He growled.
"Aw, thank you!" The Devil replied, batting his eyes. He then felt instant pain in his cheek as Dice's palm struck it hard with tremendous force. He began rubbing it with his hand as he looked into Dice's now green eyes. His face was filled with tears and his nose was running. He was breathing so heavily to the point that his shoulders were bobbing up and down. He was whimpering like a child, biting his bottom lip in order to prevent himself from lashing out at the taken aback demon.
"You little-"
"I hate you!!! You're a belligerent being! A delinquent!! A worthless despicable person!"
The Devil would say that this young man was cuter when he was mad, but he was so stunned that someone had the audacity to talk back to him like that. Leaving him with those hurtful words, Dice continued to glare at him as he summoned two of his big demons to take him away to his new quarters. Each demon interlocked their arm with one of Dice's, dragging him towards the exit of the casino.
"LET ME GO! LET ME GO!! AAAAAAHHH!!!"
His rebellious cries only lasted for a few seconds as the demons carried him out, the golden doors of the casino swinging shut as they made their exit. The Devil gawked at the young prince, still rubbing the cheek where he'd been slapped. He then chuckled quietly to himself.
"Oh, I'm going to have fun with this one."