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| Flesh for Cash | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 29 2017, 12:56 PM (92 Views) | |
| Scion | Sep 29 2017, 12:56 PM Post #1 |
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An old man laid on his rear with his back against the wall of a building. It was a silent night in the city of Yorknew. A strong breeze bellowed through the streets in the already cold city. It was the typical state of affairs for what could only be described as the ghettos of Yorknew. Few dared to roam the streets at night for fear of muggers and thugs. Compared to the rest of the city, the atmosphere felt tense—almost palpable. The usual energy Yorknew felt was all but dead, leaving an oppressive stillness in its wake. Buildings that would have been running rampant with activity were replaced with small, three story apartment complexes fit only for the most unfortunate, destitute citizens. Murals of nude woman and the names of the artists spray painted in the front, shattered windows, and not a single soul roaming the area made it crystal clear that the residential district was subject to nothing but constant neglect. And yet, the old man sat as still as a statue, his sole companion being a large piece of cardboard with “A Gem Of Worn Me It” written in black ink, a message indecipherable to most. The man’s grizzly beard and bloodstained eyes as he gave a thousand yard stare explained everything. He was a gem worn from the tides of time. Stricken with old age, the time of his prime was long gone. Death was the one thing that awaited him. He was barely clothed, checkered boxers adorned around his crotch and a red sweater unfit to cover his hairy chest. He was a man forgotten by his friends, family, and the city itself. That was his image at least. Out of the blue, the sound of a motor roaring could be heard in the distance. It drew closer and closer, yet the man’s blank facial expression did not change. Within seconds, the source of the din was in his field of vision and charging right at him. It was a man, face obscured by a black motorcycle helmet riding through the night on a cruiser that matched his helmet, who looked more and more likely to crash into him. Still, he did not move. Abruptly, the motorcycle would come to a screeching halt. The wheels screeched as the rider squeezed both brakes with all his might. The already cracked streets gained new scars in the form of skid marks as the rider stopped within feet of colliding with the old man. The helmeted figure was built well, undoubtedly a man, and wore simple jeans and a tank top that contrasted poorly with the mysterious look of his helmet. He turned his motorcycle off and flipped on the kickstand to support it as he got on, shoving the keys into his pockets. The rider bent down to meet eye to eye with the old men, before shifting his vision towards the sign. “‘A Gem Of Worn Me It’?” The man read the sign aloud, his voice muffled by his headgear. The old man did not move from his spot under the gaze of his guest. There was a long silence between the two as the rider stared at the sign, now crouching down to get a better view of it. Eventually, he spoke again. “‘Time For Game Night’?” For the first time, the old man’s facial expression shifted. What was once the face of a man waiting to die changed into a look of delight. The old man stood up, putting his pot belly on full display as he walked towards the door of the building he was standing in front of. He knocked on the door repeatedly in tap code which the rider could not even begin to understand. Spoiler: click to toggle And then, the door creaked open as a man in a black suit peeked out of it. He looked past the messy old man to put his eyes on the rider. He nodded. He raised a hand and extended a finger, curling it back and forth to draw the newcomer closer. The rider walked towards the door and it opened welcomingly for his arrival. What he was met with was a hallway made purely of concrete that lead to an elevator. The suited man walked with him towards it and clicked a downwards arrow button on the side of the elevator to open it up. Within seconds, it had arrived while bearing no passages. “Wish you good luck.” The black suited man said dully, without a hint of sincerity in his voice. The rider ignored him and entered, his breathing growing heavy as the doors slid shut in front of him. He descended, moments later opening to reveal an entirely new world. The room he entered was massive, nearly the size of a football field. It was an underground gambling heaven with almost every gambling game a person could possibly think of. Machines and game tables everywhere were lined up and mostly occupied by swearing customers from a varying degree of backgrounds. One could see anything from a high class man wearing a suit to, well, a bummy looking man like the rider, all interacting with golden machines that had the power to either make or break their night. Suited men like the one above them all were scattered amongst the various players to make sure such a large scale operation ran absolutely smoothly, nothing out of the ordinary for an underground casino. The one thing that made this casino stand out were the green chalk boards suspended by chains from the ceiling. In chalk, each board had both a body part and a price. One finger was 500,000 Jenni. An ear was 1,000,000 Jenni. A hand was 5,000,000. The prices went up and down depending on the “necessity” of every limb and organ a person could offer. Yes, at any table game they so desired players could instead offer up body parts if they lacked the funds to continue gambling. This was the main draw of the casino that made it such an amazing viewing experience. Cameras were spread throughout the room, recording each and every person playing the table games for the viewing pleasure of an online audience. Deadbeats with no money came in droves to participate in these challenges, allowing for plenty of content for the casino’s dear viewers. The house easily made back whatever losses it made with the support of patrons eager to donate for more videos of poor men and women alike risking permanent damage for what was only chump change to them. Yes, this was a place where the difference between victory and loss could be the difference between leaving with two arms or one. Bloodied screams of pain mixed with cheers of delight, a beautiful serenade found in one place and one place only: The Flesh Casino. The rider took a deep breath, then walked shakily into the casino, unsure if lady luck would follow. Edited by Scion, Sep 29 2017, 03:17 PM.
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1:20 AM Jul 11