"Wake up." The hulking figure said, patting a metal bat against the palm of his hand. "I said... Wake up!" He growled, as the bat slammed into the shoulder of a man tied up in a chair. Letting out a scream of anguish, his eyes opened to see two familiar faces. Not faces of friends, however... These faces had been tormenting him for months now. They elicited a sense of danger and fear in those who knew what the people behind them were like, and now here he sat, at their mercy.
"Hope you've been enjoying the story so far." The man with the bat said as he brushed a stray lock of his disheveled copper hair from his face.
"Oh, I don't think so Patroclus." His associate said. "After all, he did end up drifting off. Maybe we should up the ante, add some higher stakes?"
"Now there's an idea." Patroclus said with a devilish grin. "Why don't you go grab me my revolver and a few bullets, Achilles?"
The man tied in the chair spat up blood and gurgled "Why are you doing this?" before breaking into sobs.
Patroclus lit a cigarette and breathed into the man's face, making his already difficult breathing even more strained. "Birdbrain. That sounds familiar, doesn't it? Oh, what am I saying, of course you remember. You were the one that shot him, after all." Patroclus took a deep breath as his voice quivered with rage. "Well here's the issue; he was a good friend of mine."
"You were friends with that... that thing?"
"Hehe... We do tend to mingle with our own kind far more than you lot. Not that he was always like that, he was simply a victim caught in the crossfire. And for that matter, Achilles and I weren't always like this either. But that's enough for now. Wouldn't want to spoil anything without seeing if you're lucky enough to deserve the whole story after all."
Achilles re-entered the room, the light from the hallway outside briefly reflecting off his glasses. The light generated by Patroclus' cigarette revealed a grin on his stained teeth.
"Let's play a game, shall we? My own personal variant of Russian roulette. I load one new bullet into the cylinder for every major point of the story we pass, and only continue if... Well, you can put one and two together, can't you, shithead? Let's see if you're lucky enough to make it to the end."
He spun the cylinder and flipped it back inwards, and rose the barrel to the man's head. A single click resounded through the room, followed by a long silence.
"Let's get back to that story, shall we?"
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