Buckshot Roulette -

Leo sat back down. He took the gun. This time, he didn’t close his eyes. He just stared into the abyss.

“I’m out,” he said, voice cracking. buckshot roulette

Darius’s head didn’t just snap back. It opened . A spray of red and grey painted the wall behind him—a grotesque Rorschach. His body sat there for a full second, hands still loosely holding the shotgun, before it tilted sideways and crashed to the floor. The smell hit immediately: copper, cordite, and the hot, organic reek of bowels releasing. Leo sat back down

This time, the recoil kicked her hand away. The left side of her head simply ceased to exist. She was gone before she hit the table, collapsing forward into the spreading puddle of Darius’s blood. The shotgun clattered onto the floor. He just stared into the abyss

BOOM.

The sound was a physical thing. It shattered the quiet like a fist through a window. A wet, percussive slap.

He picked up the shotgun. He didn’t put it to his head. He stood up, took two steps around the table, and pressed the barrel against the Dealer’s forehead.