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Rated: 18+ · Other · Dark · #2014369
A boy wins a prize...but at a price.

"Watch the stone, move to and fro, where it rests it pays to know!" sang the man in the tall black hat as he slid the shells around on top of his wooden table. The sleeves from his black cloak swung side to side as he expertly shuffled them around.


"No wagers, just for kicks! You there boy, where's it stick?" He held his hands wide. "Come just for fun and guess what I've done!"


The boy looked around then down at his feet as he answered the tall man "My Ma says that I'm not to ever bet."


"Come now boy, no bets allowed. Just a guess, your ma'd be proud. Wouldn't you agree folks?" Cheers from the group that had gathered called out in support.


"Hmmm..." he pondered "May I touch them?"


"No boy, just make your guess."


The boy pondered a wee then spoke. "This one." He proclaimed.


"Are ye sure sprout?" The pale man asked. The boy nodded his head. Old Black lifted the shell to reveal a shiny stone. "And fancy that folks! A mere boy can win this game! Step right up and do the same!" A few people gathered around the table to try their luck, inching young Tom off to the side. The magician reached over behind Tom's ear and presented him with the stone. "Fer yer skills boy. Now be gone." And he went, the crowd cheering for the next man to dare the shells.


That evening, while the sun hung low in the sky, threatening to burn the very tops of the mountains themselves, Tom made his way through the wooded path that led to the River, his favorite place to sit. Eyes down cast, spinning the stone around in his hand. He stepped to avoid a tree in his path, seen by his alt vision, but the tree moved with him. Tom looked up to behold the object in his path.


"Good eve, young sprout." Came a voice from up high as the slender man in black leaned over to gaze at the boy before him.


Tom felt a sudden urge to run. The park with the pale man was one thing, alone in the forest was plain mad. "Im not supposed to talk to strange folk." He spoke boldly. "I should be going now." He said as he turned to go from whereat he came.


"Not so fast young one." The dark one purred. "Ye were bold enough this morning to vest an old man, why the shakes now? This be no different than our dealings before. I simply come to try to win my favorite Ga-stone back from you if you'd be so kind. It means much to me."


"Then here, ye can take it." Tom said, reaching out.


"Ay, no. It must be won or bought back, see?"


"I'll place no wagers nor take your coin. Ma would have my hide."


"Hmmm.... A deal then maybe? Ye can grant me the stone and take commission from my earnings in strength perhaps?" asked the man. "Ye could become the strongest and most fierce. In secret. What say you?"


Tom thought of this and took fancy. He could take care of Ma and be the toughest man in town. Haps even a traveling strongman. "Yar." Tom agreed. "I'll take that deal." He dropped the stone into the pale means lean, cold hands, looking up to see his wide smile.


"Then it will be so!"


Tom woke the next morning in a field, wearing only what the creator had given him. He was very dirty, and seemed to be covered in ber-jelly . He made his way to the river quickly and washed himself clean, though the jam tasted not of berries, but metallic, like blood. He ran home as such to not be seen and dressed before him Ma noticed.


"No travels today Tommy. A terrible beast tore up the Cooper family as they slept. We must keep in with the shutters drawn; a party is being assembled to find the beast. Be to your studies and fixing your bed"

Certainly the beast could not have been me. He thought, recalling how he had awoke... and that good trackers could track him here. He ran into his room and locked the door. As the evening approached, young Tom began to drift, but was startled awake by a pounding on the door.


The Trackers.


Tom began to panic now, his heart racing as he tried to make sense of it all. His fears then started to subside, a cool calm coming over him. He felt himself drop to his knees and watched in amazement as fur sprouted from his young arms and razor-sharp claws tore from his fingers. He felt his body and head swell and teeth shoot from his jaws. He readied himself.


As the door opened, he saw his Ma, and a host of other men peering over her shoulder. He leapt forward, shoving the woman with a paw. The other, sunk deeply in a man's eye sockets, and he locked his jaws around another mans throat. The blood tasted nice, and he wanted more of it. Spears and forks shot, but none on target. Tom-thing reveled in tearing the flesh from a mans leg, and seeing the horror on his face as he realized what had happened. He snapped to the side and caught an arm, the bone snapping off with the force of his jaws. He continued his carnage as they fled from the porch. Chasing them as they ran, screaming. His claws tore down another mans back, as his spine and backbone buckled from the weight of the mighty animal and shot out to the sides. Tom-thing made his way around the lot, being sure to tear the life from any man that stirred.


He walked by his Ma, painted in blood; who stared in terror at the beast as it went into its room and lay to sleep on its bed.

© Copyright 2014 Roland Bontempo (ronbone23 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2014369-A-Game-of-Chance