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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Mystery · #1963249
Trying to develop my style :/ please leave comments
Down at a particularly dingy and wet corner of the docks a dice game was in full swing. The rattle of dice sent quiet echoes across the platform; hushed voices from pockets of darkness as they observed the players. A crude table had been put up at the centre of the disused docking platform, three figures, a lighter shade of darkness, sat hunched around the table watching the dice dance. The dice where of gray metal and they shone dully in the night. The largest of the three lent forward and slapped a thick wad of A-dollars of the table. “I’m finking it’s time ya lousy bastards raise the stakes.” The other competitor sighed and abruptly pulled out of the game vanishing among the eternal night.
“Who’d you murder for that lot, eh? This younger voice came from the smallest gambler, in the darkness you could only make out his pale hands and the thick reflective goggles he wore. He was silenced by a hefty crack across the face from the big guy.
“Shut yaar mauth. W’d’ya gonna do now.” A large zeppelin rumbled overhead and the watchers withdrew further into the shadows with angry hissing voices. The small figure leant forward and stared expressionlessly into the gloom where his opponent sat. He reached into his jacket and retrieved a heavy metal coin with a stylized ‘A’ on one side and a large numeral ‘D’ on the other: 500 Anturian dollars.
“That’s it all,” the figure said calmly. His opponent wriggled with discomfort and felt glad of the darkness as his face became paler. The pause drew long and stagnant punctured only by the splash of waves and the distant lonely call of a fog horn. The big man snapped to his feet in disgust and left in a hurry.
The spectators in the shadows slunk away one by one leaving the figure alone in the murky night.
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