Dice.

Dice... and death.

They're the two things I've always been obsessed about. Dice and death. Death and dice. Two sides of the same coin or rather endless possibilities that rely on luck.

Some people are lucky and some people just aren't. That's what I love about dice. Everything is up to chance. There's never a dull moment. The same goes with death although the latter statement is arguable. One can simply die of a heart attack. One could peacefully drift off in their sleep. One could even suffer at the hands of torture before slowly dying of an aneurysm. It's all up to luck. Like a board game. A board game of life controlled only by dice.

I don't know when I got so fascinated by luck. I might have had the obsession all my life but then again, some higher being could have easily rolled a dice and then *poof* obsession ability acquired. But that's not the point. The point is how this all relates. How this all one day, by the roll of a dice, magically turned me from a probable loser to a vigilante. How I went from zero to hero.

It all started at the casino.

Wait. That's not right.

It all started with a gambling addiction.

Hold on. That's not right either.

It all started when I went undercover.

Yeah... That's it.

It all started when I went undercover. I'm a cop, you see. Pretty cliché, I know, but other than an unhealthy infatuation with death and dice, I was always a little more into the criminal world than all the other girls back in college, or school, or kindergarten, or whenever my interest began. It was only natural. Why? Well... It completely disobeyed luck and it had more than it's fair share of death.

As I'm sure you're aware - I always did like dice. I liked luck and I liked the unpredictable. The unpredictability of events; the unpredictability of death. That's why when I realised there were people out there cheating the system I was more than a little bit miffed. Since then all things criminal, especially those tied with murder, manslaughter, torture, decapitation, genocide... All those things became sort of a hobby and I more of less ended up in the police force.

Flash forward a few years and I'm a secret undercover cop. Kind of like James Bond but the female version. Then again, that's all up to luck now as well.

Flash forward a few more years and I developed a gambling addiction. Not a real one, obviously, but rather a fake trait. A fake trait that accompanied a fake persona.

Flash forward a few weeks and my fake persona has been perfected. If you met me you wouldn't believe I'm the goody two shoes that I am. You wouldn't even believe that I had ties to the police. You wouldn't even believe I had a dice addiction.

Okay, maybe the last part you could believe but that was all part of my persona, I swear. But what was that persona? Well... It was little Miss Gambler who went to the casino everyday at 10:00 am sharp to keep an eye on what you would call 'Lords of the Underworld' or in simple terms - guys you don't want to get on the bad side of. Just think of them as the mafia of all mafia except they don't have the big burly tattoos and the machine guns and all that jazz. What they do have is cunning, wit and the ability to walk on any street without getting arrested because when you exude as much corruption as they do, you either join them or you're already dead.

What did I have to do with all this? It was simple. Monitor and report. Monitor and report. It was fun - well the casino part was anyway. When it came to reporting... Eh... Let's just say, even with a trained eye on their every move, there was nothing out of the ordinary. All they did was hire private booths and roll dice. Every day at 10:00 am sharp. That's all they did. They'd hire a booth, sometimes smoke a joint or two, engage in casual conversation and roll dice. I tapped all their chit chats, videotaped all their games, watched them like a hawk yet they never did anything wrong. Nonetheless, come time to leave, there was always disaster on the news and it always lead back to them.

I felt like a failure but then one day they left and they left something behind. A die. They left a die. They left a zocchihedron. A one hundred sided die that ironically had landed on the words 'death'.

Naturally, I confiscated the die for evidence and then suddenly the terrors stopped. The news became less violent and I was called in for my next assignment. I didn't know what had happened but they just up and vanished. I went in, gambled, observed and the case was closed. I simply observed and they disappeared from existence itself. No bodies. No wills. No evidence. No trace. No sign that they ever inhabited Earth except for the records of their crimes.

Days went by, then weeks and then months. The world was at peace but eventually, crime started to crawl back. With the big boys out of the picture, small-time gangs arose once more with turf wars for dominance. My undercover work resumed and with only success' tied under my belt, I wondered what happened to the gamblers who plotted world devastation. I wonder what luck was bestowed upon them. I wondered what that single zocchihedron could have done. I wondered until one day I rolled it.

I still remember the day I rolled the die. It was a day like no other. The bakery had run out of doughnuts. Other than that it was a perfectly normal day. The sky was blue, the air fresh and crime was on the rise. Everything was as it was... That was until I rolled the die. I was just fiddling with it, reminiscing about the case of the mysterious banishment and then suddenly I had the urge to roll it. I don't know why. I just did. With ninety-nine faces exactly the same with the words 'luck' on them and a single face with the words 'death' on it, who wouldn't find it intriguing. To cut things short, I rolled the dice, it landed on 'luck' I blinked and suddenly the bakery had a fresh stock of doughnuts. Some might call it coincidence but I called it luck. That was until I realised it wasn't. It was until I realised it was due to the die.

Inherently, I rolled the die again and I got a promotion. I don't know how or why but I knew it had something to do with the die.

When I got home I was greeted by an empty fridge. A roll of the die and it was full. It was a 'wonder die' but with each roll, I had the nagging feeling that my luck wouldn't always last. I had a nagging feeling that if I rolled 'death' my end would come all too soon. The same end met by the mafia of all mafia.

As soon as I came to that realisation, I started to get jittery. So what did I do? I turned on the news and engrossed myself in that day's horrors. Somewhere along the line, I had the spontaneous desire to become a superhero and with an accidental roll of a quite literal dice, I became what I desired. I became a superhero. The odd part was - I became a male superhero and I didn't know what freaked me out more - the granting of a power that lasted for an hour or the extra 'package' that came along with it.

It was then that I learned the dice's true nature. It could grant whatever you desired and thankfully not always in the form of a male, although I occasionally do have the urge to wish a boyfriend into existence. Nonetheless, even I know the laws of probability and with each roll, I know how much closer I come to death. It's hard not to stare at the news and roll my life into my alter ego but I save my powers for only the worst of the worst.

Cop by day. Superhero by night. Another cliché but it'll have to do.

So far I have rolled the die seventeen times. Seventeen times lucky. Fifteen different powers. The best part is I can have whatever superpower I want. I can time travel. Have laser vision. Even breathe underwater. The downside is that it only lasts for an hour and each roll brings me closer to death.

I can only rely on my luck but the world needs a superhero. A gender fluid ability roulette superhero. A superhero with the most cliché name ever.

Dice.