#heehe

collecting them like pokemons...

You might’ve had a bit of a panic attack… just a little one. You fled to the bathroom and locked yourself in there for about half an hour. The music was too loud, the thick smoke was nauseating, and if you had to stand under the flashing neon lights for much longer you think you’d start screaming. The stalls muffled the sounds a bit, which was better than nothing. (Though you did hear a couple of girls come in to… expel their stomachs. That didn’t help.)

When you got out, it was clear to anyone that you weren’t ok. The bartender, Jacob, took one look at you and grimaced.

“Hey, you look rough. Do you want something from back here? Dealer probably wouldn’t mind if it was you to be honest.”

“No thanks. I don’t really wanna get sick tonight.”

“Fair enough,”

You tried to help him out even though you knew you wanted nothing to do with the club patrons right now- but he was kind enough to give you reprive and let you stay at the back of the bar for the rest of the night.

After many long hours, the club finally closed and everyone dispersed. You felt like you could take a good long breath; and it meant the next bus was coming soon.

You took a peek out the door. The sky was as dark as ever and you could feel an immediate chill down to your bones, even though you only opened the door a crack. The music’s off and so were all the lights of the club, except for the bar. Your eyes and throat feel dry. You can tell your muscles were going to be sore once you got home, and honestly, you might sleep on the bar floor if the club wasn’t so eerie.

For the record, you do prefer a closed club over the sensory overload that was an open one, but the silence is deafening and this building always felt haunted when it wasn’t in use.

You really didn’t want to go home in the dark. You don’t feel safe- not that you ever did, but you were especially tired tonight and you don’t think you’ll be aware and alert enough to be walking home in the dark. But you also don’t think you have it in you to stay in the club until six… if you’re going home, you have to go now. The next bus won’t come for another hour.

Not like leaving in the early morning is any more dangerous than going at midnight. … I think…

Might as well.

You yawn and toss your coat over your shoulders when you hear heavy footsteps approaching.

Even though you could guess who it was, you yelp and drop your bag when you see the Dealer’s large face in front of you.

“Careful, angel. You never know when there’s a greedy monster’s lurking around these parts,” the Dealer laughed, catching your bag and returning it to you. “Of course, it’s always a pleasure to see you but… why are you still here? I thought I told you you could go home early if you wanted.”

“Oh um, yes but… I missed the bus.” You sighed. “There was a guy we needed to kick out, and by the time I looked at the clock I realized I missed the last one.”

The Dealer frowns and tsks. “Those are the kinds of men I wish were upstairs with me instead. Sorry you had to deal with them, beautiful.”

“Th-thanks!” You mumbled. You never knew what to do when he calls you those things… it’s always more respectful than what you’d expect him to say.

“So are you… done… up there…?” You floundered. You didn’t really know what goes on upstairs, just that the Dealer spends all his time up there and you hear what sounds like gunshots but uh… you try not to think about it too hard!

Sometimes it was a bit of a gamble whether or not the Dealer was going to show face at all, usually towards the end of your shift. There are nights when he comes down full of life and beaming his razor-grin, nights when he comes down heaving and ask for an obscene amount of beers, and then other nights where he doesn’t show up at all… and the upstairs is quiet. Jacob tells you that out of all nights not to go upstairs, it would be the quiet ones.

The Dealer smiled sinisterly, grabbing a tissue from over the bar counter and wipes the ends of his teeth.

“... Yes… It was a plenteous one.”

You can’t tell in this lighting. The Dealer’s teeth never looked ‘right.  Crooked, sharp, too many, and stained a rusted color, and right now it looks redder than usual. Bright red. Whatever it was, it stained the tissue the Dealer used and it almost looked like…

You swallowed.

“That’s good to hear!” You think? “Thank you Dealer, boss, sir. I have to go now- the bus comes in twenty minutes and it’s a fifteen minute walk from here.”

You don’t know what to call him sometimes. He prefers the name ‘Dealer’ the most, and that’s what most people call him. You don’t think that’s his real name, but no one knows his real name as far as you know, and the man (if he even is one) is cagey about it.

(“Boss? No… just call me Dealer, angel. Everyone does.”

“Is that… your real name?”

“Practically. Besides… I love hearing it from you.”)

“Who are you going with?”

“Um… no one,”

“What?” Dealer scowled, “what about the boy?”

“Jacob had something else to do, he’s not taking the bus my way tonight…”

The dealer strides past you towards the door and opens it wide. A cold, dark street looks back at him. He seems to be thoughtful… then turns to you with conviction.

“... Right, c’mon treasure, I’m coming with.” The Dealer barked, tossing his trench over himself.

“I- really?”

“Yeah. Now what kind of boss would I be if I let a beautiful thing like you walk alone down those streets?”

Your eyes… sparkle. You’re touched. You’ve been dreading the walk home to the point that you almost considered crying in the bathroom until the sun rose, but now that you’re going to have a large, menacing presence lumbering near you, you feel your stress melt away. Even the scariest club goers pale whenever they see his face.

“Th-thank you so much! That’d be great”

He extends his arm towards you like a gentleman. It was almost hilarious how big his arm was, built more like a log. You’re happy to take it.

“Let’s catch that bus of yours, shall we?”

*****

The walk to the bus stop was the most atmospheric it’s ever been. Walking down these streets were always so tense. Granted you only started working at the club only recently, but you don’t think you’ll get used to the walk home in the dark anytime soon. And you’ve had your fair share of walk-home-alones before, and they never get any better no matter how many times you’ve done it. It’s dark, you always need to pay attention and sometimes even that’s not enough. Fast walking, hoping that man behind you isn’t actually following you…

But now, with Dealer next to you? He walked leisurely with a smile. Even hunched over he was the biggest man you’ve ever seen. You felt like you didn’t have to on the lookout, even enjoy the breeze a little.

“Is your home this way too, Dealer?”

“Hm? Oh, no. I’m not going home.”

“...?” You tilt your head at him. “You mean you’re staying at the club?”

“Mhm. Don’t have anywhere else I need to be.”

“... Do you live in the club?”

Though he didn’t have pupils, it looked like the Dealer was looking somewhere else, and his hollow eyes crinkled. “You could say that.”

… Why did he have to be so enigmatic? What does he mean when he says things like that?

“What about you, angel? How’s yours?”

“It’s nothing that fancy,” you laughed awkwardly. “Just the usual shoebox apartment, just a couple of bus stops from here. It’s not the best but…”

You trail off as something catches your eyes. You purse your lips, looking nervously at a group of smoking men in the alleyway. Their eyes were seedy and all of them had an unpleasant scowl, cigarettes stuck between their teeth. You looked away too late, because they turned to glare at you.

It didn’t last long, though.

The Dealer looks over your shoulder and flashes his toothy, red grin.

“Good evening.”

The men’s eyes all widen like saucers and in an instant they scramble out of sight.

… You walked closer to the Dealer and held his arm.

The Dealer chuckles. “You can relax, angel. Those boys won’t bother us.”

“Do you know them?”

“Yes. One of their men died in the club.”

You blink your eyes and shook your head in disbelief. This information, given to you so freely- and the Dealer didn’t seem all that bothered by it.

You bit your lip, thinking about the questions you shoved under the metaphorical bed all this time. You thought about the gunshots you hear from upstairs.

You look up at him.

“Dealer?”

“Yes?”

Rip the bandage off. He doesn’t seem all to bothered by it anyway.

“Can I ask what you usually do upstairs?”

His eyes widened a little, looking more alert. You expect him to react emotionally- not sure in what way, but he doesn’t emote beyond that. It was less like he was upset and more like he was excited.

“I run a game up there. A gambling game. If you’ve noticed, I don’t really pay attention to the club… I have someone else deals with it, I’m simply the de facto owner. The game is where I pour my attention.

“It brings all the gamblers who’s willing to bet their life away, which is most lucrative… not to mention, fun.”

Your brows furrow. The Dealer looks at you knowingly.

“You’re wondering about the gunshots, aren’t you?”

“Yeah…”

“Go ahead, ask.”

The Dealer looks so… unbothered. From the way the other people in the club frown and speak vaguely about it, you thought the Dealer would be equally as secretive about his activities. Thinking back at it, you realized how many players you must’ve encountered on the job- people who walk in disgruntled, sometimes drunk, sometimes just obstinate, almost angrily asking where the ‘roulette’ is. Of course you didn’t know anything about a game, and had to be saved by Jacob who quickly sent them upstairs.

You hem and haw as you ask the question: “So um… those are… were those for the… cheaters…?”

The Dealer laughs.

“Cheaters? No, not most of them. It’s hard to cheat in front of me and get away with only a few gunshots,” the Dealer looks on darkly.

“So… you’re just killing gamblers?”

“It depends on how the game goes whether they die or not, though most at least stand in the doorway of death. But they’re definitely getting shot.”

You would’ve stopped walking right there if you didn’t remember you were trying to catch the bus. The Dealer slows down his walking pace a little for you.

“How can you just say that so easily?” You ask, less judgemental, more genuine, distressed confusion.

“You can only play once you discharge any claims towards me and my parties by signing the waiver. It’s legally binding.”

“So basically them telling you they allow themselves to be shot?”

“Something like that.”

The Dealer summarizes. “It’s a game of roulette, but with a shotgun. Buckshot roulette. We take turns with the gun, either choosing to aim the barrel to yourself or the other player.”

So… it’s like russian roulette, as you know it.

You knew whatever was happening upstairs had death written all over it, but you didn’t know it would be something as harrowing as literally gambling with your life.

You’re shaking a little when you ask again.

“H… have you ever gotten shot?”

You’d guess at least a few times, right? He’s lucky that none of them hit his vital organs or…

The Dealer snrks.

“Lots.”

“... Huh?”

You look again at the edge of his mouth, something glistening under the broken street lamp. He’s still holding the tissue from earlier, crumpled and messy in his fist. … It looks much redder than it was before.

“Defibrillators and blood transfusions work like a charm,” he says matter of factly, winking at you.

… You… you don’t think it works that way???

The Dealer takes one look at your flabbergasted face and laughs.

“It gets my blood pumping… after I get my face blown off. Exhilarating,”

Your mouth hangs open.

“How are you alive after all that?” You cry helplessly, “Are you sure you’re not up there fighting, I don’t know… gang members or something?”

“No, they know not to. They have no reason to, after all. Don’t want to knock on the devil’s door so to speak.”

As you wonder if you’ll ever understand the Dealer’s cryptid wording, you find the only pleasant part of the street. The bus stop was up ahead, sitting in an island of yellow light from a street lamp that was actually upkept. The street itself was empty and silent.

Of course, you didn’t realize how most cleared out as soon as they saw the Dealer.

You run up to the time table and open your phone to check.

You sigh. “Phew, just in time. It’s gonna come here in a bit.”

The Dealer stops short of the street, his shadow long and dark under the light. You turn to him and smile.

“Thank you so much for accompanying me, Dealer,” you say softly and sincerely.

The Dealer blinks owlishly at you. His smile stretches and his cheeks darken a little. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was a blush.

To be honest, there was a small part of you that didn’t trust the dealer completely and hoped it wasn’t a ploy for something more nefarious… and it wasn’t. Though now that you think about it again, you were also alone with him in the club, as the others had left earlier. If anything, it’d be the best place to jump you…

You’re glad he wasn’t like that.

You step back when he bends down on one knee. He was still taller than you, and when he places his goliath hand on your shoulder you’re reminded of a parent talking to a child.

“Be careful with your life, ok angel?” He says, his forehead pinched. “I never want to see you lying dead on the ground.”

You give him an appreciative smile. It’s… really sweet, coming from him.

“I will.”

It isn’t much, but he seems reassured by that. He leans in a little and for a brief moment you thought he was about to kiss your forehead, but he braces himself on his knee and stands back up.

You both turn as the bus appears out of the corner, the lights shining into your eyes. It creaks and steams as it stops, and the door folds open. You quickly climb onto it and shiver when you’re blasted by the heater- glad to be out of the cold. You turn to wave at the Dealer, but by the time you do, he’s no longer there.

You stand there dumbfounded as the door closes quietly, and the bus rumbles as it departs. You stare at the lonely bus stop until you can’t see it anymore and finally take one of the many empty seats.

…