Undisclosed Location, First District
Zero Hour
A dead silence filled the small room. Not even the tiniest rat dared poke its nose out of hiding, sensing the heavy, tense atmosphere. The three people gathered in the center of the room could almost hear each other’s hearts beating. That wasn’t hard—each of their hearts was pounding wildly, though for entirely different reasons.
One was paralyzed by the gun pressed to his head.
Another—terrified the shot might come any second.
The third knew they had put everything on the line—and there was no turning back.
They’d been silent for a while, as if no one wanted to break the oppressive, electrifying quiet. All feared that one wrong word would echo through the empty, barren space—followed by a deadly bang.
Finally, the man standing four meters from the other two spoke in a voice roughened by emotion:
“What are you trying to accomplish?” he asked calmly, though inside he was a volcano of rage. “What’s the point of a corpse?”
For a moment, it seemed like she hadn’t heard him. Her gaze was fixed on the gun clutched tightly in her hand. Then she looked at him, narrowing her eyes as if seeing him for the first time.
“What will it give you?” he pressed, taking a cautious step forward. He nodded toward the boy kneeling with his back to her, head bowed. A shadow fell across the boy’s pale, terrified face.
“Think about it,” he said slowly, taking another step. “You don’t actually want to do this.”
She grew irritated at his psychological tone. He had no right to claim he knew what was going on in her head—though he did. He knew, because he felt it too.
She wasn’t sure what she should do.
The gun felt heavy in her sweaty palm, her hand shaking despite her effort to hide it.
She wanted to do it—to end the circus.
She didn’t want to—because it would make her just like them.
She pressed the barrel harder against the boy’s head, clenching her jaw without saying a word.
She shook her head slightly, brushing away her thoughts. Because all it took was not thinking—just focusing on the action, ignoring logic. After all, logic had never been an ally in this mission.
“You’re so predictable, you know that?” she said suddenly to the man, now only two meters away. “From the beginning, you laid it all out like a menu—what you care about most. That’s why we’re here.” She lazily gestured with her free hand in a semicircle.
“But killing the kid won’t get you anything,” he snapped, his eyes igniting with anger again. “What’s the point? You’ve lost! Why this move now? What does it give you?!”
“Maybe satisfaction?” she shot back with a shrug. Her fake nonchalance drove him mad. “That you were so close, and yet so far.”
“What’s satisfaction worth if you end up in prison?”
“Oh, you really don’t get women,” she sighed, focusing back on the gun.
He exhaled slowly. He couldn’t say anything to provoke her into pulling the trigger. He had to regain control.
“We can make a deal,” he said, raising his hands in a conciliatory gesture and stepping closer. “The kid could be useful. To both of us. You wanted to join us, right? We’ll split the profits. How about it?”
The click of the safety disengaging froze him in place. She didn’t look convinced. She was clinging to her vision—he saw it in her cold, blue eyes, which had nothing left to lose. Betrayed by her own team and thrown to the wolves, she’d decided to burn every bridge. For everyone. Even herself.
“You won’t gain anything by killing him. Satisfaction’s not worth shit in this case. You’ll be hunted not just by me, but every damn law enforcement agency on this island. Don’t do it, Kelly.”
Paradoxically, her eyes flickered with something strange at his gentler tone. But it wasn’t a flash of reason—it was something wilder.
“Oh, the irony,” she murmured with a smile, almost to herself. “By doing this, I’ll save this goddamn island from even greater chaos.”
“You said you’re not a hero!” he shouted, his voice echoing off the empty walls. “That you never wanted to be!”
She looked at him with amusement, raising a brow.
“You don’t get it, do you?” Her voice was surprisingly calm, though fire blazed in her eyes. “Heroes don’t exist. There are only people who do what has to be done when the time comes. Sometimes by accident. Sometimes calculated. And sometimes…” She tilted her head and winked. “...through pure improvisation.”
The man lunged forward—but it was too late. His shout was drowned out by the crack of a gunshot.
And then suddenly I come back, take a look… and Roulette has over 1.5K views! WOW!
A lot has changed during this time—not just in my life, but also in the direction I want this story to take.
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