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Charlie can feel Mari’s eyes boring into his hands as he grips the knife on his table and expertly cuts off the barrel of the gun. The grating noise stops with a metallic clank as the barrel drops onto the table.
“Mierda…!” Mariana pinches the bridge of his nose as Charlie grins wider.
“You snooze you lose, Mariana.” He chuckles, before raising the shotgun and lining up the sight. “Say cheese!”
BANG!
Mariana falls limp as the tracker buzzes, two bolts flickering off on Mari’s side. Charlie racks the gun and lays it back in the center.
Mari’s hand clutches the table as the various machines hooked up to his vitals hum, enabling him to unsteadily stand up as remaining blood drips from the impact on his shoulder.
A grin stretches across his face, “I think you missed,” pointing to his face.
Charlie laughs, a cheerful noise which bounces off of the sharp and rusted metal walls, "You should've known that I save the best for last."
"Cheesy," Mariana eyerolls, cracking his knuckles.
A box unfolds out of the table in front of both men, housing a variety of hidden supplies. Both grab two items from inside, placing them on the table.
"I hope you can pull it back, Mari." Charlie crookedly smiles, eyeing the last life on the other man's counter.
"I hope you can shut the fuck up," Mariana playfully returns, looking at the two bolts on Charlie's.
Mariana growls, staring at two meaningless beers sitting on his left. Charlie stares, also having two beers placed on his table.
His opponent sees this, and chuckles, "guess it's anyone's game, mí amor."
The number of bullets flash on the table, 4 real and 1 fake, before Mari pulls the gun off the table. He chugs both beers, with two real bullets falling onto the table.
"A proper gamble," Charlie picks at the shabby green fluff of the table, "fifty-fifty." His eyes rise to meet Mariana's.
"Lucky draws, for sure." He lifts the gun, aiming between the eyes. "Any last words, beautiful?"
Charlie lifts his hands, "At least I get to see an angel before I die," taking on a playfully flirtatious tone. Another eyeroll is almost audible from the taller man, "At least I can put a hopeless romantic out of their misery."
He pulls the trigger.
CLICK
"Ahh... Lucky you." Mariana smirks.
He can't help but pause this time.
Yes, he came into each roulette pretty much planning to die, but... this was it. He'd really die. Under the same buzzing fluorescents and rusted pipes.
Well, as much as he wants to feel something about it, he can't really change the fact that he doesn't. He tosses the gun across the table.
Charlie holds the weapon, as if he finds the firearm particularly interesting. "How many times have you played?"
A pause. Mariana counts. "...twenty? I don't pay close attention." He keeps up his smile, "You must play more than me. Got cold feet this time?"
"Ahh, no..." The shorter eyes his own beer, and the barrel, but his resolve won't falter. "Fourty-two. Lotta bodies between us, huh?"
The barrel lifts, pointed at Mariana's forehead.
"This was fun, puta esposa." His finger rests on the trigger.
"Yeah, yeah... Less sappiness, cariño."
Charlie looks into Mariana's eyes.
BANG!