Hey guys! This a new thing I started. This is a movie idea, so things from the game will be repeated, but I'm going to try to make something different out of it for a cool experience. The first chapter did not happen, but I hope you like it! This is my depiction of what the movie would be like if it were one. I picked Charlie Hunnam to play Booker, but whoever you want is cool! Hope you enjoy!
"You sure know how to deal cards, Mr. DeWitt." The man with the top hat stared at the young man with green eyes tentatively. Booker DeWitt sat at the poker table, staring at the smug man. He'd played withy his man before. He knew all his moves, his weak spots. Booker had this guy done for the count. The familiar gambler smiled his thin lipped smile, lighting a cigarette. "You want one?" He asked Booker. The lean man nodded.
The man with the top hat handed him a cigar. Booker popped it in his mouth, looking at his hand. It was a decent hand, but he could see by the too hat mans smile he had a good one as well. Everyone had a tale, and Booker learned to figure it out fairly quickly. Top hat took off his hat to reveal his slicked black hair. He was an older man, much older than Booker was. He had a scar leading up his left eyes, and his body was as muscular as bookers. He was also a war veteran, but of a different sector than him.
Booker cleared his throat, staring up at the man. They played for several hours, constantly one uping each other. Finally, at the last few hands, Booker thought he had it. He put up all he had. But once he laid down his cards, the too hat man laid down a royal flush, beating him. Booker stared with large eyes, dumbfounded. That was his entire money to last him for months. He thought he could win. Booker cursed himself, rolling his eyes. The top hat man smiled grimly, taking the cash.
"Sorry Mr. DeWitt. You've been a pleasure playing with."
He walked off, leaning Booker to stare in disbelief. He sat at the bar, drowning himself in several bottles of whiskey. The bartender cut him off, but Booker lingered for a while. He didn't want to go home. But he knew he had to. He walked out the door, walking down to his office. When he arrived, a young woman walked towards him. "This is the last time, Mr. DeWitt," She grumbled. Te man nodded, watching her leave. His office was small and dirty. His desk was cluttered with many different files and papers. The walls were filled with grime, and the wallpaper was peeling off the walls.
He sat at his desk, sighing deeply. Tonight was the bullshit, He thought, I could have won. The man with the scar was always there and played the same way. But tonight it changed. He was hustled. There was a loud sound from the room to the right of him. He had forgotten a about it. He walked towards the door, but before he could open it, there was a knock at the door. He opened it, and a man stood there. "Mr. DeWitt, it has come to our attention that you haven't paid off your debts to us," The large man said.
Booker swallowed, looking down at the ground. "You said by the end of the week." The man chuckled, pointing to the colander. "It is the end of the week." Booker cursed under his breath. He looked around the room, trying to find a way out of this. These people were not the kind of people you want to mess with. He had never been this scared and nervous before. There was a stillness to the air, except dr the sound in the side room. "We will decide what to do with you. If you don't have the money by tomorrow... Let's just say it'll be hell to pay," The man said.
His hands clenched and I clenched, as if to intimidate him. Which it did. Booker nodded, beads of sweat rolling down his face. The man left the office in a huff. Booker grumbled, sliding down the door with a huff. He sat on the floor, looking over at the side door. He felt tears wet his eyes, but he refused to cry. Only fools cried. Fools who were scared. Fear was also for fools. Instead, he resorted to the only thing he knew. Alcohol. He drank away his problems for that day, not even caring that he owed money. Not even caring about his debts. And not even caring about what lie behind the door.