Hey guys! I had some fun with this chapter. I really enjoy writing Fat Amy, she cuts the tension. Thanks you to all my readers. Have a good one. -M
"I need a number eleven" the host spoke into the intercom.
Within seconds two men came through the double doors pushing a giant class tank on wheels. When the tank got closer to the table what was inside the tank became visible. Swimming inside the tank was half a dozen piranhas' the size of a small footballs. The men placed the tank besides the far wall of the dining room. They leaned a ladder to the tank allowing one of the men to climb up and open the latch at the top of the tank.
"They're ready when you are Mr Swanson."
Jesse looked back at the man.
"I dunno dude."
Jesse backed up until he felt the front of a gun pressed against his back.
"You either enter the tank or you get shot." Their host said stoically."Personally, I'd much more enjoy the tank."
Jesse just gave him a blank stare and started to undo his belt. He got down to his boxers and walked over to the tank.
He climbed the ladder leading up to the top of the tank and looked back at the group. He didn't really have a reason; it was more impulse than anything. He shook his head.
"Good luck Benji. Don't let these bitches win."
He lowered himself into the water slowly. Cautiously he tried to keep as still as possible. The fish in the tank didn't notice his presence. He was waist deep and didn't feel any nibbles. He sighed.
"I guess they don't like my meat." He tried to joke.
"Oh, don't worry. We'll fix that." The host motioned to a man beside the tank.
The man knocked on the tank, in an effort to try to stir the fish. The fish didn't seem to mind though.
"That just won't do." The host said.
The man in the suit climbed the ladder and pulled a knife from his pocket. Jesse looked up at him wide eyed.
"What the hell are you doing?"
The man looked back at the host seeking an answer. The host spoke.
"Jesse it appears we are at an impasse. You either need to fully submerge or let Hank cut you to get them going. You have to stay in the tank for two minutes either way."
Jesse couldn't believe it. He just couldn't catch a break.
"I guess I'd rather fully submerge."
The host nodded toward him as to say 'go on.' Jesse took a deep breath and slipped into the tank.
The fish noticed his movement. They started to swim around him, seeing if he's what they want. They started the pick up speed. One of the braver ones went in for a taste. He sunk his teeth into Jesse's calf. Jesse let out yell and yanked his leg away. This was a bad idea. They went into attack mode. The clock was ticking down but time wasn't on Jesse side. When two minutes was up, he was pulled out of the tank. The men evaluated his wounds. He had several chunks of flesh missing on his thighs and calves, a good chunk of his side was missing and his left for arm was pretty worse for wear. One of the men looked up the host.
"He may live but he is prone to infection and he will probably bleed out in a few hours if he doesn't stop the flow."
All of his assistances were trained assassins and medics.
"Great. Set him back at the table, we've got a game to finish." The host looked at all the disgusted faces. "Who's next?"
Everyone looked at each other begging for someone to be brave and volunteer. Benji spoke up
"Should we do something to stop the bleeding?"
The host gave him a confused look. "You want to help him? He is your competition."
Aubrey spoke up "Competition?"
The man laughed at her question. "Yes, of course. What do you think all of this is? I have to cut off the fat, as they say."
Fat Amy piped in "So how many of these yanks have to die before I get some green backs?"
Mr Hillington gave a hearty chuckle. "I like you." He said gesturing toward the Aussie. "I haven't decided, it normally varies upon group."
Aubrey jumped back in "So how often do you host these… competitions?"
"Hmmm, I guess that also varies but I'd say about twice a year."
Beca couldn't believe her ears. This sick fuck prays on the needy just to get pleasure out of their pain. "So this is just some sick form of entertainment for you huh?" Beca questioned heatedly.
"Oh don't sound so offended Ms Mitchell. I think if I'm giving you anything you need, I can do whatever I want. Now is one of you going to volunteer or do I have to make the decision for you?"
He waited to see if anyone volunteered but no one did so he chose. "Lilly. Your turn, what did she roll again?" The host asked the man positioned by the chalkboard.
"She rolled a seven and an eleven Sir."
One the board the number seven was next to a picture of a belt. Next to the number eleven was a fish, or as we learned from Jesse, a piranha. Lilly's mouth opened but no sound was heard.
"You'll have to speak up my dear." The gentlemen at the head of the table said.
"I said, I pick number seven,"
Their host smiled. "Splendid."
The man walked over to the wall once more and called in a number seven. A man in a suit carried in something draped in cloth hidden left the unknown. The man stood behind Lilly at the table. He looked at the host asking for permission. The host nodded signalling him to continue. The man left the cloth drop ad revealed what was underneath. It was a belt made out of barb wire.
"What do I have to do with it?" Lilly asked emotionless.
"You are a blunt one aren't you? Hmm wear in until the next two tasks are done."
After the host finished talking the man asked Lilly to stand. Once she was stood she lifted her arms up and the belt was firmly placed around her waist. She nodded firmly at the man. It was like she approved of the choice of equipment. Her stone features unnerved the ones at the table. Lilly sat back down at her place.
"Shall we continue around the table?" The host asked. "Amy, you're turn."
Amy nodded and cracked her knuckles. "Okay, don't bother with the board there slim. I got a five. Whatever than means."
The host smirks at the Aussie. "I feel like this isn't the first time this has happened to you."
He turned around and pulled a box out of a chest and placed it on a table. He slide the box to one of his men. The man took out a pair of brass knuckles. Amy laughs boisterously.
"Oh mate, my nan had one of those and gave me a smack everyone morning. Bring it stiff. "
The man, taken a back, looked at his fellow suits. They just shrugged. The man followed suit then pulled back his fist and punched her in the jaw. Amy was knocked but gained her balance. She rubbed her jaw and laughed.
"Nice one, slim. Maybe you and I should rumble sometime." She finished with a wink.