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A gunshot echoed in the room as the body next to them dropped onto the floor with a loud thump. Chance didn't bother looking anymore - he would forget their face the next day. Silence fell among them, though it was not heavy with grief or any form of misery. This was routine - a game of russian roulette always ended in death, after all. Eventually, you get desensitinated to death, even the smell of rotten bodies or the thought that someone might never go home again. Chance wasn't sure if that made them a bad person or anything of the sorts, but he didn't really care. Or maybe he did, but the feeling was so deep within him that he couldn't reach it. Did they lack humanity? They watched others die for his entertainment. That probably did make him a bad person.
After all, what else would they do with his life?
Because nothing could compare to the feeling of adrenaline running through his veins when they got handed the gun, the sharp gasp around them when Chance - as always - lived. When they got questioned about how they lived, or why he kept doing this when death seemed to be on his heels, their answer was always the same thing: Lady Luck was just on his side. Someone would ask if he wanted to die, and Chance would just shrug - they knew they wouldn't. He wasn't sure how or why either, but they always - always - lived. Even when the odds seemed against him, Chance lived, and maybe that was special, or it was luck.
So when it was all gone, when the death was in the past, the thrill was over, Chance felt strangely empty. And sure, they knew where the emptiness came from. It was an addiction, they knew it was self harm. It was not healthy; or even close to healthy. But who cares anyways? It didn't truly matter as long as the adrenaline kept him kicking. The thrill of almost dying was the only thing keeping his heart beating. The fire he felt roaring through his veins whenever the gun went off was the reason why his blood still ran through at all.
The idea of dying was what kept him alive.
The day passed in a blur, like all of them seemed to be lately, and Chance found himself still in the casino when the moon started fighting the sun. ITrapped stood next to him, silent, locked away. A price still too far out of reach for Chance to grab, a thrill better than any gunshot. Anything to do with iTrapped was Chance walking on ice too thin to be on, but he was lucky enough that it didn't break. But Chance knew their luck would run out eventually, they knew that iTrapped was a gamble that might actually be too risky.
But that was okay. The thrill was worth it.
Eventually, the two went outside. The cold air burned in Chance's lungs, their steps seemingly too loud in the quiet night. Without any words, the two wandered up to a small hill, laying down. The sky was clear - not a cloud to be seen - and the stars were especially visible. "Hey, iTrapped?"
"Yes, Chance?" The other replied in the icy voice that Chance had gotten used to. The coldness was weirdly comforting, even if it gave Chance frostburn. The pain - even if it wasn't truly there - kept them weirdly grounded. Even if they floated through the day, iTrapped's coldness kept him close to the ground.
"Do you have a favourite constellation?"
For a moment, iTrapped seemed to think about it. His eyes remained on the starry sky, while Chance continued looking at him. The way the stars reflected in the shine of his crown got them mesmerized to the point they felt like he would miss something if he looked away. Eventually, words slipped from iTrapped's mouth again. "Corvus," He said, "I would say Corvus is my favourite."
"Corvus," Chance echoed silently, his words flowing with the cold breeze. He allowed his eyes to focus on the stars again, trying to search for the constellation iTrapped mentioned. The way stars allinged never interested them before, but now, for once, Chance couldn't keep their eyes off them. Shiny dots in the sky, lighting it up like how iTrapped's eyes lit up when he won something, or when Chance held the gun in his hands during russian roulette. It was a strange sparkle and everything in Chance knew it was wrong, but still he looked. Still he trusted.
Until his trust wasn't enough.
For a moment - a second, maybe two - Chance could only stare at iTrapped. Betrayal followed quickly after, the feeling roaring through him like a raging fire, but still Chance found himself not allowing the feeling into rage or anything similar. He allowed it to keep feeling like betrayal, even if they saw it coming from so far away. iTrapped stood over him, hands still on the handle of the dagger plunged in his heart. How poetic, Chance gave their heart and look where that got them. The look in his eyes was unexplainable. No matter how far Chance searched for it, they could not find regret anywhere.
Was this where countless nights together got them? Was this where working together for days upon days upon days got them?
Chance stared up at the sky. A star fell right in front of him, leaving behind a trail of stardust, shooting through the sky. A wish, they thought. What do I want, in my final moments? The silence here deafens me, the way he looks. I can't deal with it, I wish to look away, but I can't. Is a wish upon a falling star worth it? Am I the star, falling from high in the sky? Is my blood the stardust following me, leaving behind a trail. What does that make iTrapped? Maybe the sun, watching me fall while always remissing high up in the sky, lighting up the day and the night and anything in between.
Chance grinned up at iTrapped as his blood stained his clothes, and it hurt. It hurt so much, everything hurt and it would forever keep hurting, but he had to smile through it. If anyone saw him in a moment of weakness, he would get hurt. And even now that he was hurt, bleeding on the ground as iTrapped pulled the dagger out, they still smiled.
I'm so damn stupid for thinking I had a true buddy. Maybe in the next life where lady luck is way nicer.
The freezing will forever be worth it, though.