"Everyone step up to a box"
The voice blaired like death over the ancient intercom, before it fizzled out with a pop, there was a horendeous screech. Then silence.
The boxes, Chance noticed, had numbers painted on them with red paint. Or blood. he thought to himself grotesquely.
"What the fuck is this?" the slut girl screamed, tears starting to roll down her face. An older women, probably the oldest in the room, ran to her and gave her a hug. The girl shook her off and placed herself in front of box number three. She didn't need a hug from anyone.
There were four woman and nine men in the room, chance knew this now. Other then the middle-aged European and the slut girl, no one else had spoken.
There was a small asian girl who could ha ve been anywhere between seventeen and thirty, the elderly woman and the slut girl. The fourth woman was around Chance's age and would have been beautiful had it not been for the fact she looked like a drug abuser.
There was the European man, and a black man in a tuxedo. There were two teenage boys, one whom looked about 15 and could esily be the youngest in the room, the second was older, maybe 18. He reeked of pain and suffering. There was a tall, blond man in the far corner, who had now placed himself in front of box twelve. A man who looked to be from South America stood opposite to Mr Twelve, at box number one, beside him a good-looking, preppy man, in about his twenties.
He glances over at the European man, who was the only one other then himself who had now stood himself in front of a box. He jestured for the man to go first. He nodded gratefully and stood in front of box number 7.
That left Chance number six. He took his place and noticed the red boundaries drawn on the floor. He stood in the square formed by the red electrical tape and set his hands on the table.
As though someone had pulled a trigger, the intercom boomed with the voice from before.
"Open your box" it rasped, "...and prepare to die"
Chance lifted the box from its place in directly in front of him as the twelve people around him did the same.
A gun fired. Someone screamed.
He looked down in shock after flinching, there was no hole in his body. He glanced down the row as one of the other twelve fell to the floor. It was Mr Twelve.
The voice returned to the intercom.
"His name was Steven. Welcome to the game of chance"