Recap:

You stepped towards the table and ignored your instincts.

"You'll be joining us too, Jeff. Right?" Smiley asked.

Jeff glared at the man and reluctantly took a step towards you after a moment.

Smiley smiled.

"Let's play some Russian Roulette."

-+-

You eased your way over to the table and sat in a chair. You were one-third the length of the circumference of the wood away from Smiley's right, and Jeff was to your other side the same distance.

Your back faced the wall and allowed you no room to run away if necessary. Dr. Smiley had you cornered.

Why did you comply to such an evil sport? Because of fear? Or, maybe you wanted to turn your third chance into a success story.

"I'm so glad that you two are here," Smiley muttered. "It's not fun when I'm alone."

You took Jeff's hand under the table and watched Smiley reach to the floor.

Up came a large box. When opened, an old fashioned pistol was revealed. It was silver- the color of sin- and the small amount of light hit it in the just the right spot to reflect itself and penetrate your eyes.

Smiley opened the compartment and popped a bullet out.

"I was going to go ahead and spin it, but I think (y/n) should choose which slot it goes in," Smiley explained.

He held out the gun and the bullet to you.

You stared at the two elements and took a moment to just think. You absolutely could not believe that you were playing such a dangerous game. Sure, a fake little round of Russian Roulette with a toy gun was amusing, but the real deal was anything but enjoyable.

It was a game of fun in one head, and a game of death in the others'.

You snatched the revolver from the table and tore your hand from Jeff's to pick the bullet.

You didn't understand why Smiley was having you make such a silly decision. Did he want you to be gifted with guilt at the end result?

As soon as you saw the cylinder, you realized that the choices laid out for you were much clearer than you expected.

Before reading what was written, you checked to see if Jeff's vision extended to what yours could reach. Content that he could not see what shocked you, you gathered the endurance to read the word on the side of one of the bullet slots.

J.

There was only that letter written on the side of that hole, but it meant to you a thousand more.

Noticing your pause in movement, Jeff asked, "Are you okay, (y/n)? I can do it if you want."

You quickly moved your gaze off of the spinning wheel of death and looked into Jeff's corneas.

You couldn't take away the light from those eyes. You couldn't even think about not being able to stare into them ever again. You might as well have considered it a sin just to let the thought run through your brain.

This was your third chance. After that, you would have one more, and you didn't intend on procrastinating.

"No," you said, "I'm okay."

You looked back down at the cylinder and made a chart of your choices.

If you put the bullet in the one labeled "J," then that would be it. It would be over. On the other hand, if you put the bullet in a different slot, it would be a different sufferer that might drop to the floor before midnight.

You closed your eyes, and without having a care in the world, you slid the bullet into the blindly marked slot, proving the insanity and distress of your state of mind.

The guilt would haunt you forever, whether it be Jeff or Smiley that would take the fall. If you ended up being the one to go, you would thank whomever you might meet for allowing your escape from purgatory to be so quick.

You closed the capsule and handed it back to Smiley.

He spun the wheel.

While in slow motion, the anticipation grabbed at your neck and your throat. You saw the cursed letter spin around seven times before it clicked into place. You still didn't know which space it really landed on.

"Now, I know you may be thinking that your choice will effect this game," the doctor started, "but it won't."

He glared at you with a jump rope smile.

"This is purely a game of luck," he said.

Spiders on your back ate away at your integrity and you took the train on a guilt trip. You were the only one in the room that knew where you were headed. Smiley was the conductor, and Jeff was the unconscious boy sleeping in the corner oblivious and without a care in the world.

You had made the wrong choice.

"Jeff," Smiley sighed. "Why don't you choose who goes first?"

Jeff stopped breathing for a moment and eyed you. He reached back for your hand and gripped it tighter than he ever had before. They do say that the more feelings you encounter, the more lust you might feel towards attachment and attraction.

"You," Jeff said. "I think you should go first."

The doctor rose his cheeks and held the gun up to his head. "Good luck," he said.

You wanted him to die.

He pierced his gaze into yours as he pulled the trigger.

Click.

You then had less of a chance of living.

Dr. Smiley cocked the hammer before he set the gun down on the table and slid it over to Jeff.

"Your turn," he muttered.

Jeff squeezed your hand more as he reached for the scythe with his other. His arm was shaking more than a bee at its highest season.

As he raised the gun up to his ear, his energy rose even more. His hand was at a major deviation of what you guessed was well over a couple inches. It looked like the gun was going to fall from his grip at any minute.

He stared at you when his eyes got watery and eventually filled with an ocean. His mind silently told you of his remorse and weak nature. He tried to hold back his cons, but you could see right through his attempts.

You also felt a bit of sadness touch your face as you saw how his eyes had given up. That was the one thing you didn't want to see. You didn't want him to give up. Nothing was worth giving up, and it took one of Smiley's stupid games for you to realize that.

Jeff closed his eyes.

"I love you," he said.

And you heard a bang.