Chapter Text
I flipped my coin, tucking myself behind a pillar in hopes I can get at least one charge on my gun.
Flip.
[Weakness III]
Dang it.
You know, there was a time I would celebrate a tails coin flip. I’m naturally very lucky, and losing is the ultimate thrill for me. But ever since I came here, my innate ability to do crazy crap and come out the winner has been completely ineffective- like the wretched beast who brought us here completely wiped any of Lady Luck’s blood from my veins. I’m completely and utterly mortal. I do wonder at times if Mum goes looking for me. At least I got to keep my coin, though.
I examine my surroundings. The pillar I’m up against is scratchy against my open wounds. I’m surprised I’m alive. The air is hard and thick, and it feels like I’m constantly inhaling dust.
I take a deep breath in anyway.
I flip it again.
[Shoot: 1 Charge]
That’s less flips than I was expecting to need.
Maybe I’ll test my luck?
My coin clinks as it lands on heads.
[Shoot: 2 Charges]
That’s a rare one. Two in a row?
The coin whirs through the air again, and suddenly the breeze around me clears. I can actually recover now. Something is off. It’s peaceful, too peaceful.
[Shoot: 3 Charges]
Something is definitely off.
I glance around. No killer, and no survivors either. The grass is moving softly, and the stench of blood no longer curses the land. It feels empty, open, and- somehow- safe.
I feel safe in a realm made for pure unrelenting torture.
Unusual, to say the least.
I decide to test something.
Clink.
Clink.
Clink.
All three came up heads.
I haven’t had three flips come up heads in a row since the first day I arrived, when the horrible thing keeping us here forgot to nerf my luck; let alone 6 in a row.
Low odds, but not impossible.
Clink.
Clink.
Clink.
Heads, thrice.
That’s 9 in a row.
I’m not sure how to feel about that.
Should I be worried? Happy? Scared? Should I go run in fear? Should I make the most of it?
I’m going to choose not to question it.
I’m going to find the killer.
I dance around the pillar, flipping my gun and spotting sight of Slasher. Alright. I can do this. Let’s hope it doesn’t go off in my face.
I click the flintlock, aiming just behind Elliot and tracing his looping path so I can hit the shot properly.
BANG!
A loud click sounded as the pin struck the bullet inside and fired it off. It breezed through the air, before striking Slasher right in the shoulder. Perfect.
I run up and grab Elliot, pulling him along using my stamina, since I’m sure he was almost out at that point.
I flip my coin to recharge my gun.
Clink.
Clink.
Clink.
[Shoot: 3 Charges]
“Three in a row? That hasn’t happened in a bit, right?” Elliot knelt down, placing down his pizza box and opening it to hand me one. I smiled thankfully and bit into it, feeling the little bit of warmth and thriving in it.
I feel my wounds stitch back together, and quickly reach into my pocket. Elliot slapped my hand playfully.
“Chance, you don’t need to pay me.”
“What kind of customer would I be then?”
I handed him a 20. He huffed and stuffed it into his pocket.
“Seriously though. How long has it been? Knowing you, you would’ve loudly bragged the second it happened.”
“Ssssince the day I was brought here.” I pulled on the s like I was hissing.
Elliot whisper-yelled, “THE DAY YOU GOT HERE?! Do you think your luck is like- un-nerfed or something?”
I hummed, as if the thought didn’t phase me. It absolutely did, of course. That would imply I had the blood of Lady Luck coursing through me once more, and the games would be a piece of cake for me as long as I kept it.
Elliot knew of my ability, of course, he’s my best friend. I’ve known him for several years prior to either of our arrivals here, and most only need to know me a day or two to sniff out the information. However, no one knows why I have it, and I intend to keep it that way.
No one except for him, of course.
It’s been awhile.
I shake my head to ward off the daydreaming that I was sure to do if I thought too much about him. Another time, when our lives aren’t being actively threatened.
“I’ve… considered it.” As if I didn’t already figure it out at my ninth flip. “That last one may or may not be my…” I counted on my fingers. “12th heads in a row?”
“CHANCE!” Elliot grabbed my shoulders to shake me like I should’ve mentioned it sooner, before realizing he forgot to quiet his voice before scolding me.
He covered his mouth and I stood up from where we were huddled, readying my gun. The second I saw a glimpse of tattered fabric, I squeezed the trigger tight.
The bullet fired in a straight line through Slasher’s stomach, and suddenly, the round ended.
Elliot and I spawned back in the cabin along with the other two who hadn’t died yet, Dusekkar and Jane. I watched as the latter quickly skedaddled outside towards the cellar, and the former went to Taph. About as I expected.
I wonder what he would think.
He’d probably tell me I was an idiot for getting myself in this situation before sighing and dedicating himself to protecting me.
Loyal man.
I felt Elliot shaking my shoulders. When was he in-front of me?
Oh. I was daydreaming again. Of course.
“Sorry, Elli’! My bad.”
“Do not apologize.” He glared at me before his face shifted to one of excitement and bliss. “YOU HAVE YOUR LUCK BACK CHANCE! We- we don’t have to die anymore, not until the eyes notice, at least!”
I hear a bunch of footsteps stop in shock before clamoring around me.
“CHANCE IS OP AGAIN?!” Shedletsky teases, nudging me, voice underlined with a bit of relief and genuine happiness.
“Is that true, Chance? Have yah’ got that power of yers’ back?” Builderman pushes Shedletsky away from me to get a look at me like I was some kind of celebrity.
“Uh- I-“
I get cut off as Noob grabs my hand like an excited child. I feel bad as I see the bullet scar I accidentally left on their upper arm when I first arrived.
“R-Really?! W-we can have a b-break from t-this misery?!” They stutter.
“I-“
Taph pushed their way through and started rapidly signing something to me in ASL. Twotime quickly followed suit.
“Dear Gambler, is it true? Has the spawn returned your blessing?”
I step back to try and give myself some space, but everyone kept pushing forward towards me. “I- well-“
Dusekkar floats on the other side of me and begins speaking, making a shield around me to push everyone back.
“Friends, I understand you all are enthralled at the idea of a new advantage, but you should not overwhelm them. Let them rest from the round, and then we can host a meeting.”
I smile gratefully as they drop the shield and everyone moved away to let me sit down, and went off to do their own things. I could feel the excited energy in the room, everyone’s eyes on me. I just need a break. I press myself into the side of the couch, away from Elliot, who was eyeing me from an armchair.
I let myself get comfortable. It’s getting late, (I think, not like we get night and day here), and I really don’t have the energy to head back to my cabin. Not like I’d be able to sleep anyway.
I feel myself yawn.
I haven’t slept in at least a few months. I eventually gave up on sleeping ever again. My soul can’t leave this place to visit my safe space anyway.
I'm cursed with chronic nightmares, something that no sort of innate luck or similar blessing from dear ol’ Mum could ever fix. I remember she said I fussed a ton as a baby, and she tried everything to stop them. She had no power over what my mind could conjure up, and her long-time feud with the deity who did was sure not helping me through it. When telling me the story, she said they just stopped one day when I was about 5. I don't remember much from back then, but I'm not stupid. I know why. From the day they stopped at the age of five, and then on, I no longer dreamt by delving into my own consciousness. Instead, my soul went to the Dreamworld, a beautiful place with an infinite amount of places to see. I later met the person I would end up marrying.
Mafioso.
The mafia of the space is pretty large. They maintain plenty of branches so that any dreamers who come don't stay too long. Even I myself have lost track of time in the past. The person who manages it all is Lady Eunoia, who I also miss dearly. She’s kind.
Each member of the mafia is a being made by a dreamer’s subconscious. It works that way so that even with every new visitor they can keep their numbers high. It's smart, I admit, and I already applauded Lady Eunoia for coming up with the idea.
Mafioso was the creation of my mind when I was younger.
The point of the Dreamworld is to help people in need. Of course I needed to get away from the horrid and vivid nightmares, which is why I came in the first place, but I gained more and more reasons to stay as I grew up.
For someone so rich, you'd think people would be nice to me, and not bash my face with their knuckles until it bleeds, but what do I know. Any friends I did make wanted me around for the money. It was honestly overwhelming. The only good part of it all was my luck helping me to find materials to conceal any wounds I came home with so my Mum didn't catch me. Our luck bounced off the other’s a lot, so sometimes fate wasn't sure who to help. I was surprised when it wound up being me most of the time.
I began working at my Mum’s casino after my school years, and she eventually transferred it to me. That only wound up helping in attracting gold diggers towards me.
When I finally met Mafioso I was so happy. It was like something in my mind clicked. He understood me better than anyone else, though it wasn't suprising, since he did naturally know all of the core memories, the reasons he existed and I kept coming back to the Dreamworld. He was cold, but in some odd protective way, that felt like it slot right into place in my life. He was, and is, my missing piece. I'm worried about him, and I shamefully- but unrestrainedly- hope he's worried about me too.
I wonder if he still gets the negative memories from me, even if I can't visit the Dreamworld anymore. I wonder if he knows why I haven't come back yet. I wonder if he still keeps our wedding rings safe in that little velvet box in his desk drawer. I could never wear mine, because the second I woke, my body would dust, and the ring would be dropped to get left and then lost in the deep snow.
If there was one thing I could change about my life right now, it honestly wouldn't be the death games. It would- undoubtedly- be to get him back.
Maybe sleep was worth a try, even though I haven't been able to coax myself into sleep in ages.
I would even take a nightmare.