“Just come on Matt! It's gonna be fun.” Ron insisted on me joining the poker table at the end of a dimly lit alley on our way back from the club.
“You've had one drink too many you dumbass.” I brushed him aside. “We don’t know these people and it's night and well… It's a table on the streets. Let's get out of here.”
“Oh god you are such a chicken.” Ron made a chicken sound while flapping his arms before turning away and walking to join the table.
“Ah fuck it.” I say as I give in and follow him to the end of the alley where I see the old half broken wooden round table. Three people sat at the table who each held an interestingly creepy look.
Ron sat to the left of me. To the left of him sat a man who introduced himself as the ‘Prisoner’ and wore a dirty worn out orange shirt. To the left of him sat an old bald lady with broken glasses. She didn't introduce herself but held a gentle sweet smile that you would expect your grandma to have. To the left of her sat a slender young man who looked to be around 20 years of age. He told us that his name was Chad, if you can believe that. He looked like a nerd who would play poker by using some probability formulas in his head. And well… to the left of him was me.
I know, this whole situation feels crazy. Why are we- two drunk friends playing poker in an alley with three complete weird strangers? I would like to think that it was just Rons fault for getting me to tag along, but something in the air made me want to play too.
The granny, by whom I refer to the old lady, picked up the cards and told us that she would act as a dealer too. However, she momentarily turned her gentle smile into a stern expression and said something that made alarm bells ring in my head.
“Only one person leaves this table. You chose to sit down and play, so if you attempt to leave now… you will be shot. This is sacred.”
“What the fuck? This is so dumb. I am out of here.” I said and got up but Prisoner quickly pulled out a revolver and aimed it at me.
“Sit down.” Granny said while Ron tugged at my shirt to sit back. I did.
“We all will each have $100.” Granny continued. “Whoever runs out of money will die. This will continue until one of us takes it all.”
“But why?” I asked in an agitated tone that truly reflected how weird I felt, half unsure if this was some sort of weird joke. “Why death and all that? Lets just play normal poker?”
Granny just smiled her warm smile again, but this time it sent shivers down my spine. Chad answered for me.
“Well, sir, you see that we are performing sort of a ritual. And we were short of two people because they did not show up. But you will do.” He said with a bland expression. “You will do.”
And so began our long session of poker. Hand after hand after hand. Time felt stretched out. Night remained unchanged after hours of our play. We all carefully placed our bets and people never seemed to raise. By this point I was sure that this was no joke… and that I cannot afford to lose.
Thankfully, people started to lose their patience. I knew I just had to hold it together until the others couldn't.
Prisoner was the first to go all in. I folded, of course. But granny called. And granny won. And then granny took the gun, aimed at the prisoner, and with the sweetest smile in the world- she shot him.
We continued playing with his corpse still sitting at our table. Chad seemed to calculate all our expressions and probabilities of cards. He was going to be hard to beat… or so I thought.
Soon enough, Chad and Ron both went all in and showed their cards. Chad had a double ace, while Ron had a two and a three.
“You ran out of patience huh?” I remarked exhaustedly. “Goodbye, Ron. Hope this game was fun for you.”
“Shut up. I'm not gone yet.” He replied with a hate clearly noticeable from his voice.
And the Granny began to show the cards. Ace - Five - King
Chad laughed with excitement, which was unexpected because I didn't think he was capable of showing emotion. I just let out a sigh and accepted that my friend was going to die. But I didn't feel too bad. He was responsible for all of this after all.
Granny pulls out another card- Queen
And then she pulls out the last one- Four
“FOUR! I WON!” Ron cried out in excitement. “Fucking Chad, to hell with you!”
Chad reverted to his emotionless face and simply stared into nothingness. Granny aimed her gun at Chad and shot again. Two lifeless bodies on the table now. Two more to go.
We played for what felt like days, making small bets so as to not exhaust our reserve. But then I noticed that Ron was getting antsy again. He was raising a lot now, and while me and Granny folded, I knew he was bluffing to gain small advantages.
So, when he raised me when I had good cards, I doubled. He doubled. And soon we were all in.
“It's one of us now.” I spoke with a broken voice. Even though I blamed him for this, he was still the friend that helped me get through tough times. He helped me when my parents died. He helped me when I was broke. He helped me when I was a complete mess. And never asked anything in return.
He didn't reply. Just laid out his cards. I laid out mine. Granny did her thing and I won. I hated that win. I hate it now. I will hate it forever.
“I am sorry.” I whispered to him.
I looked down and braced for the sound of a gunshot.
Three dead bodies now.
I looked at granny who still held that sweet warm smile.
“Looks like it's just us now.” I said exhaustedly.
“Yes dear. Let us continue.” She spoke softly.
I shook my head.
“I am tired of this. Whatever hand I get, I am going all in now.” I tell her. I did not care then. My friend just died against me and I could do nothing. I am in the middle of this weird crazy game and the world has somehow stopped. I wanted to be gone, dead or alive.
“I understand.” She said and dealt the last hand.
She went all in too.
We both revealed our cards. She got a king and a queen. I got a King and a queen. But I had them in the same suit.
Granny pulled out the cards and in no time it was evident that I had won with a royal flush. What a way to end this sad pathetic game.
I looked at granny, and she looked at me. She nodded and put the gun to her chin, and pulled the trigger.
A table full of dead people… and me. I lived. I thank god that I got to walk away that day, and hate him for allowing such a game to be played in the first place.
I have stopped playing poker, for obvious reasons. To be honest, I have stopped living too. That day killed the desire to live within me. I am thankful to be alive, but no longer know what to do with my life. I write this down in hope that this helps me get over it a little, but deep down I know its of no use.