Dom swaggered through the casino doors his gut overflowing with Dutch courage and in search of the nearest alcoholic beverage; he needed anything and everything to drown his mind, if only he could drown. The world was a blur that surrounded him, the lights almost blinded him practically spinning it was miracle that he reached the bar without collapsing. Three whiskeys later he had an overbearing urge to lose everything he had while he still could. His eyes sharpened but looked ever stern and managed to ward off any potential company, he gained himself a few looks here and there but nothing that warranted him toning down his sense of absolute determination; the determination to forget.
There was a loud band playing, it was playing the kind of smooth jazz Dom used to enjoy but now, now he wasn't interested, the sweet melodies were sickly and a lump appeared in his throat. He drowned it in yet more whiskey. He found the nearest roulette wheel, it was disappointingly conventional; he would have preferred the Russian variety but on second thoughts perhaps blowing your brains out was a risk the casino wasn't going to take. He started low.
"Five-hundred on black."
All other bets were taken as Dom took a curt glance around the room; nothing captured his eye, though he could not see clearly any longer. It was black, but there was no reaction, not even a twitch from his face. Black came up again, and again and a fourth time. Still not a murmur, instead he was stood almost nonchalantly as he tossed his now sizeable stack of chips across the table with a flippant air. The fellow gamblers stared on as they waited for his to put everything on black, as his chapped lips pressed together on the edge of saying the words 'black' he felt something brush his shoulder, he was a scrunched fist away from pushing them back, it was a rather condescending voice that followed.
"Red five. Put it all on the red five."
A slender hand placed a tattered playing card on the table in front of him, the edges browned as if it had licked the flames of hell, the crease of a fold was a deep artery down the centre of the card which pierced the central heart. The five of hearts glared back up Dom with a fierce presence as it burned into the tabletop, the reflection scorched his eyes, without thought or apprehension a stubborn finger held the card down.
"Red Five."
The wheel spin with an immeasurable fury, the ball was flying through the air as he watched the hand beside his through the corner of his eye. It was faltering now; tripping over itself, each beat as it hit the wheel to bounce back up was a pump of his heart, hitting each number with a carefree skip. Slowing now it tripped passed the black eight, then the red twenty three, it touched down on the black ten with a vengeance, it was over, it was all gone on a whim and he felt nothing. Then with the bat of his eyelid he looked past the hazy whiskey mist and found through the stars or the gods it lay on the red five without a wobble. Breaths were held and with a sudden exhalation the onlookers cheered with astonishment. She brushed his shoulder.
"No need to thank me darling."
Spinning round he found himself struggling through the crowd searching for her, wrestling for sight he had to find her, who was she? A glint of red sparkle caught his suffering eyes, a fluttered eyelid turned to him, a glimpse of her face snuck out from the dishevelled curls and her cheeks blushed in recognition. He ran after he as she scampered through a chamber of doors, rooms full of people, crowds of faceless, nameless fools in Dom's way. Lights reflecting of every chandelier, ornate mirror and glass door, blinding him a rippling of sparkles shone from her, he noticed something through his strained sight. She had no shoes on, just the padded soles of petite feet, darkened where she had out pressure he could see the shadowy brown of her heels and toes. She had walked through hell.
A room full of mirrors with mirror glass shards covered the floor. Reaching out a hand he called for her to watch out as pieces embedded into her soles, tearing the skin it was like she couldn't feel it, she was empty. Full-length mirrors with golden frames covered the walls, he could she everything from every angle but she had no face, he couldn't find it, where was it. The solid shape of a gun appeared in her hand as he stared at her unyielding back, the same that had passed him the playing card, that had brushed his shoulder was now gripping the trigger. An ear-splintering gunshot rung through his body as blood ruptured and her corpse fell through the air. A tear of her blood rolled from his cheek as a red river flowed passed his feet. Dom tried to move but the world spun aroung him and slowly but surely his eyes closed and felt his own heart stopped beating.
Dom awoke to sweating dripping from every pore and an empty bottle of whiskey by the bed, he lowered himself cautiously back onto a bed of his own cold putrid sweat, forced his eyes shut and tried not to see red.