It was quiet in the Devil's chamber. He didn't see the Devil or his imps around. King Dice entered the chamber and slowly but carefully began to walk toward the big throne-chair which was empty. Dice's eyes darted in all directions and he even looked back to make sure he wasn't being followed. The Devil was here, he could feel it. As Dice was moving to the center of the chamber, from behind a nearby pillar, that's when he spotted him in time. The Devil leaped out at him with his sharp teeth flashing and his yellow eyes gleaming wickedly in the darkness. The Devil was already swinging his pitchfork at Dice but Dice cleverly bend over backwards to dodge it before firing back his magical cards at his attacker.
The Devil didn't stop his relentless attacks and was already chanting unholy demonic magic and shooting fireballs at Dice who swiftly dodged each one while shooting back his own bullet of playing cards at the Devil. The Devil easily deflected the powered cards with his pitchfork and then with a nasty grin stretched out his neck and transformed into his snake-form. Dice remembered once being terrified of this form but he was prepared for it now. Gathering all the power within his one glove, Dice drew back his arm and threw his Exploding Card which exploded upon impact on the Devil who came charging at him. This stunned the Devil momentarily but it gave Dice all the time he needed to attack.
But the Devil recovered quickly in time and leaped out of the way just as Dice tossed a barrage of bullet cards in his direction. The Devil changed tactics and summoned forth his demonic minions and commanded them to attack Dice. But Dice only summoned forth his marching cards and ordered them to drive off the demonic minions. Not bad… With another evil grin, the Devil conjured up four crystal-balls and sent them right at Dice. The crystal-balls bounced around erratically, keeping Dice on his toes while trying to keep the Devil in his sights. Using both hands now, Dice ran at the Devil with bullet cards blazing. With a calculating grin, the Devil summoned burning poker chips and flung them right at Dice. Thinking quickly, Dice tried stopping the oncoming burning chips by firing cards at them but missed one. The burning poker-chip slammed hard into Dice that he could feel its burn.
This left him temporarily stunned that Dice realized he stood still for too long and the Devil was already upon him. Before he had a chance to react, the Devil was already ramming into him with his goat-hoof and knocking him to the floor. Now Dice looked up to see the Devil's pitchfork being thrust near his neck. The Devil grinned triumphantly as he had his prey right where he wanted him.
"I win…," Devil said gleefully. "I trust you know what this means?" Devil grinned impishly down at Dice's horrified expression. "It means… I win the bet!" There the Devil held out his hand and helped pull Dice to his feet. The two held hands for a moment before letting go…
The one thing Devil especially liked about Dice's character was his daring nature and nerves of steel. Dice was always up for a challenge and could never resist a bet. Sometimes Devil won a round and sometimes Dice did. Dice was a pretty strong fighter but the Devil still liked to think his fighting prowess was far superior. But he had to give his young manager some credit, not too many people could last that long in a battle against the Devil…
"Aw shucks! Thought I was winnin' there," Dice said, straightening his purple-tux and bow-tie. "That's 2 outta 1! But still, good fight, boss. Ya won fair and square. Well I'm headin' back to the casino." Then Dice added with a sly snicker. "I'll keep an eye out for any fresh-meat for ya, boss."
As Dice turned and walked towards the door, the Devil allowed his eyes to rove over his attractive manager, eyeballing his elegant purple-tux, the muscular shoulders, those fine-shaped legs… Ever since King Dice started dressing sharply, the Devil found himself unable to keep his eyes off the die-headed man. Often times he'd sit at his desk or at his throne and fantasize about holding Dice in his arms, breathing in the intoxicating smell of his powerful cologne, sampling the taste of Dice's lips. Sometimes Devil's fantasies got a little naughtier…ones that involved his handsome manager not wearing his purple tux at all... The Devil wasn't the only one… There hasn't been a day where King Dice wasn't daydreaming about his devilish boss.
Today Dice wanted to concentrate on his job by monitoring the casino patrons, taking care of guest services, and explaining casino policy to newcomers. It was a usual routine done around the casino. Whenever he wasn't too busy, King Dice liked to challenge any gamblers to a game of cards, Craps, or Roulette. Dice prided himself on always winning a bet. Although woe to anyone who dared to make him lose a bet… After doing his rounds and paying off bets to some of the customers, Dice got bored and started heading for the Devil's office to see if his boss wanted some company.
But when he arrived there, to his surprise he saw the office door opened ajar. Dice heard voices inside which told him that the Devil had a visitor. He wondered if he should knock for entry or patiently wait out here. Dice couldn't resist trying to listen in to what was being said between the Devil and his mysterious visitor. Suddenly a large shadow loomed over Dice from behind and glared at him with its mean eyes. Detecting movement behind him, Dice turned in time to see something with scary eyes and a big mouth about to swallow him whole. Like reflex, Dice leaped out of the way as the monster tried chomping on him and he was already shooting his cards back at the monstrosity in self-defense.
"Whoa! Down, Kaskit! Heel boy!" A sudden voice came from inside the Devil's office.
There Dice saw what had attacked him. It was a black coffin with mean-looking eyes which had tried to swallow him into its lid-like sharp-teethed mouth. Although it backed off and turned to its master. That's when Dice saw who the mysterious character was and he was definitely no looker. The guy looked like a rotten corpse with his ghostly-white skull with wisps of white-hair left, eyeballs still in his eye sockets and an unsettling slasher-grin. He was dressed in all black, with his formal black tuxedo, black pants, black shoes, and even a fancy black top-hat. The guy looked like he was dressed for a funeral…
"Well, well… What do we have here?" the zombified-looking man eyed King Dice up and down with his creepy eyes and wide skeletal grin. "No wonder Kaskit wanted to cobble you up. You look good… "Open-coffin good! Hah ha ha!"
"Who're you?" King Dice asked, looking at the creepy fellow with utter dislike.
Then scurrying out from the Devil's office, Dice spotted what appeared to be an urn with arms, legs and eyes. The urn went over to Dice and sniffed at him as if he were some kind of dog. When the little urn opened its jar-like mouth, Dice got a whiff of its toxic breath that nearly overwhelmed him. "Nice shoes bud. Whaddya think, master? How long does this one have to live?"
"I beg your pardon?" King Dice was taken aback by this unexpected question. Right at that very moment, the Devil came out of his office.
"I believe we were in the middle of a meeting?" the Devil said to his visitor. The Devil noticed King Dice standing there and acknowledged him. "Oh… King Dice, I didn't see you there." Then the Devil introduced his scary-looking visitor. "This is Riggor Mortis. He's my grim-reaper. He collects newly departed souls or collects the souls I'm owed." Then the Devil turned to Riggor Mortis. "This is my new casino manager, King Dice. He manages my business and financials."
"Pleasure meeting ya," Riggor tipped his top-hat to Dice. "And uh…sorry about my coffin trying to bury you alive. Kaskit is always on the lookout for someone who'll make for a nice corpse!" He laughed again at his own death jokes, earning a disgusted scowl from King Dice. "Come along Kaskit, Urnie," Riggor motioned for his two minions to follow him into the office.
Before entering his office, the Devil turned to Dice and said in a hushed voice. "Come see me later today. I have things I need to discuss with you too."
"Yes, boss…," King Dice nodded understandingly and turned to head back for the casino. Now probably wasn't a good time. His boss was clearly in the middle of an important meeting. Any conversations with the Devil would have to wait until later. But he wondered about that Riggor Mortis character.
….
Inside his office, the Devil took a seat at his desk where he had a good view of Riggor Mortis and his two lackeys, Kaskit and Urnie. He's wanted to talk to Riggor for some time now. He'd been hearing some troubling rumors in the Inkwell Isles. "I'm gonna get straight to the point…" the Devil grinned unpleasantly at the dead-like man before him. "I get the feeling you're not upholding your side of the bargain, Mr. Mortis."
"C'mon Devil, what do ya mean?" Riggor chuckled although the Devil could hear his nervousness. "I've brought you a ton of souls. Not to mention the soul contracts of the runaway debtors. I'm good at what I do and ya know it! So what exactly is the problem?"
The Devil studied Riggor and couldn't hide his doubts about his grim-reaper. "There are some of the soul contracts you haven't brought me. Why is that? I expected them last week." And the Devil flashed his toothy grin dangerously. "Are you holding out on me, Mr. Mortis? Is there a reason why I'm not getting all the soul contracts I want?"
"It's not easy," Riggor protested. "Y' know how these debtors are like, Devil. They're not always willing to give up the ghost. They fight back using the power of their soul-contract. Ya gotta give me more time! I'll bring you all the soul contracts you could ever want and more."
The Devil continued to stare suspiciously back at Riggor who despite his ghastly grin was still afraid the Devil might turn on him. As the Devil sat there with his clawed hands folded neatly in front of him, he thought about what Riggor had told him so far and what to make of it. His suspicions weren't abated and the Devil still thought Riggor was up to something. What it was he couldn't exactly say. But for now, the Devil would pretend ignorance until he knew for sure what Riggor Mortis was really up to. With a tiresome sigh, the Devil scratched his nose and decided to buy Riggor's excuses.
"Fine, Mr. Mortis…," the Devil said lazily. But then he added with a malicious grin. "Just for the record, don't forget I still have your soul-contract. If I feel that you're not being useful enough, I can always cash in on your soul instead."
"That won't be necessary, Devil," Riggor said assuredly. Then Riggor decided to change the subject. "So ya got yourself a new manager? What was his name again? Dice King? I must say he's awfully young to be a casino manager. And a real handsome one too. What is he to you, Devil?"
"He's nobody," the Devil said uninterestedly. He didn't want to talk about his manager but Riggor kept on pressing the matter.
"Is that about right?" Riggor said, thoughtfully rubbing his bony chin. And then with a gruesome smile, Riggor got an idea. "How about it, Devil? If you want a soul so badly, I can always have that young manager of yours sent to an "early grave," Riggor suggested. "You know I can make it happen." Kaskit growled hungrily at the idea while Urnie shared a dry laugh with Riggor.
The Devil grinned at them. "That's nice of you to offer, Mr. Mortis. But King Dice is more useful to me alive than dead," he told them.
"I see…," Riggor found that piece of information intriguing. "Well in that case, you mind if I crash for a while? Your casino still offers the finest luxury in all of Inkwell Isles. And I will get you your soul-contracts as promised."
"Enjoy yourself, Mr. Mortis," the Devil said casually dismissing his grim-reaper. Now Devil watched with a wary scowl as Riggor Mortis and his two minions started heading for the door. Only when the door closed behind them did the Devil finally have some alone time to think. That Riggor Mortis was trouble. The Devil would need to do a little more investigating but somehow he knew Mr. Mortis was abusing his position in a way the Devil didn't approve of.
….
"The guy is a total creep…," King Dice was confiding in Mr. Wheezy. He was in the pool-hall and in the middle of a game. "That pet coffin of his nearly ate me alive. And as for that smelly urn of his, sweaty gym-socks smell better than his breath!" Dice held the cue-stick in hand and shot the cue-ball into the 4 ball which knocked into Mangosteen.
"I'm not surprised," Mr. Wheezy said frowning. "That Riggor Mortis… I don't trust that old stiff."
Dice snickered while using a lively billiard chalk to sharpen his cue-stick. "I get the feeling you don't trust anybody, Wheezy," Dice noted. "You still call me a conniving scuzzball."
"Which you are…," Wheezy with a sardonic chuckle. "Ah but still… At least you're an honest scuzzball. Riggor Mortis on the other hand? He's one nasty piece o' work. If ya ask me, the guy is way too obsessed with death. Seems to get off on choosing who lives and who dies."
"Tell me about it!" Mangosteen agreed while grinning up at Dice. "Did you know? He once tried predicting my death? It's absurd! I already predicted my death and it's not until 2076!"
Mangosteen held still long enough for Dice to take the shot and knock more billiard balls into the holes. "So then," Dice positioned his hand and took aim at the cue-ball and pocketed more billiard balls. "You got any dirt on this Riggor fella, Wheezy?"
"Well, I know the rotter used to be Inkwell's undertaker," Wheezy explained while perched in his usual ashtray on a nearby end-table. "Always had this fascination with death. (Cough) (Ah-hem) From what I heard, he was a vile man. And when he finally grew old and was nearing death himself, he went straight to the boss and made him an offer. Riggor asked the Devil to never let death touch him and in return, he could become the grim-reaper and collect souls for him. The Devil totally jumped at the deal. Riggor got his wish but it didn't go so well… He's still living but he's been reduced to nothing but a zombie."
Dice moved to the other side of the billiard table and bent over with his cue-stick carefully positioned in his hands. "That's mighty interestin'. I can see why Devil would get mixed up with a freak like that." After taking the shot, Dice straightened up. "Y' knows somethin' Wheezy? I don't trust that Riggor Mortis either," he admitted.
"Yeah, that no-good Mortis…," Mangosteen said. "Once his monstrous coffin almost ate Hopus. And this one time, that talking urn of his totally polluted the smoking-room with his toxic breath!" Mangosteen took a moment to calm down from his rambling and then… "Eight-ball in the corner pocket!" Mangosteen cheered as he went down the chute to join the other billiard balls.
"(Cough) not a bad game," Mr. Wheezy remarked.
Dice smirked proudly to himself. And then a familiar voice rang out. "Why if it isn't the Devil's right-hand man. That's what everyone calls you, right?" Riggor Mortis came over to join them, followed by his minions Kaskit and Urnie. Riggor flashed Dice an eerie grin. "You have quite the reputation, Mr. Dice. Gambler, singer, sinner…"
Mr. Wheezy threw Riggor an unfriendly scowl while Dice leaned on his cue-stick and eyeballed the dead-looking man coolly. "Yes, my reputation truly precedes me," he said haughtily. "I'm surprised to see you here, Mr. Mortis. I didn't think you were the gambling type."
"Nonsense," Riggor said with a slight cackle. "I'm the grim-reaper. I am always gambling with people's lives. When your time is up, I come to collect." Then Riggor added evilly. "And I don't like being cheated…" There he walked over to the billiards table and spotted Mangosteen staring up at him with those unblinking eyeballs and toothy big grin. "Oh look, it's the lil' talking eight-ball." He reached out a finger to pet him but quickly withdrew when Mangosteen snapped his teeth viciously.
"Don't you dare give me that touch of death, you rotten corpse!" Mangosteen hissed through his teeth.
Riggor merely chuckled meanly before turning his attention to Dice. "So how about it, Mr. Dice? Care to risk your very life?" he offered. "I hear you're very skilled at games of chance and you've never lost. Want to put that to the test?"
As always Dice couldn't resist a good challenge. "Awright, you're on! We'll play a good ol' classic game of Eight-Ball. If I win, you gotta wear that pet urn of yours for a hat!" Dice pointed over at Urnie who flapped his lid in offense."
Riggor flashed a horrendous grin. "And if I win… I get to take your life," he said in a low menacing voice.
"Yeah master, harvest his soul!" Urnie said excitedly while Kaskit eagerly hopped up and down and was still eying Dice hungrily.
Mr. Wheezy uttered a shocked gasp at this while Mangosteen stared open-mouthed at Riggor. Even Dice was surprised by this. But then he smirked calmly back at the creepy-man. "Let's play, shall we?"
And as Riggor was grabbing a cue-stick, Dice was stacking the billiard balls together with the triangle-rack. Mangosteen looked on worriedly and even whispered up to Dice. "Hey boss, if ya want, I can rig the game so you can beat that no good stinker!"
But Dice leaned down and whispered back. "Relax Mango… I know what I'm doin'. This creep ain't got nothin' on me!" Mangosteen continued to look worried while Mr. Wheezy wore a concerned scowl.
In minutes, the game started and Dice already had it planned out in his head. He knew Riggor's type… After a few rounds, Dice was deliberately missing the shots and downplaying his skills. Riggor sneered with each time he pocketed a billiard ball. Urnie kept chortling nastily while his foul breath had Mr. Wheezy wrinkling his nose in disgust. Riggor was winning so far and he couldn't wait to add this die-headed man's soul to his own collection… And just when it looked like Riggor was going to win the bet. That's when Dice turned the game around on him and started hustling him right back. Dice couldn't stop grinning as he took back the game and pocketed every billiard ball into the pocket with ease. Now Riggor watched with displeasure as Dice took the final aim and pocketed the final ball Mangosteen and won.
"I win," Dice boasted. "Enjoy wearing your new hat, Mortis."
"That was some mighty-fine hustling, boss!" Mangosteen said impressed.
Now Dice, Wheezy and Mangosteen all shared a good laugh over at Riggor Mortis who with a furious scowl was wearing Urnie's open mouth on top of his head like a hat. "This feels very weird, master," Urnie muttered.
"Oh shut up and try not to breathe so much!" Riggor snapped. As he stormed off in fury, he glowered back at the die-headed manager and was already mentally adding him to his Grim Reaper's list.
….
After beating Riggor Mortis at a game of pool, King Dice didn't think he'd run into the dead-man again. But just as when he was talking to some acquaintances, he happened to look over and notice Riggor had been watching him with that sinister grin of his. He still wasn't fond of the man and the feeling was pretty mutual because Riggor had to go through the humiliation of wearing an urn on his head around the casino and kept throwing him dirty looks. And now Riggor was making his way over to him with his two minions in tow and Dice didn't bother pretending to be polite toward him.
"Still here, Mr. Mortis?" Dice said, smiling arrogantly. "Didja ever manage to get rid of that awful stench from the smelly urn of yours?"
Ignoring Dice's taunts, Riggor wagged a bony finger at him. "You think you're so clever, Mr. Dice? You talk big words but I'll bet you ain't got the guts to back it up. In fact…Let's see how strong you really are. I've got a new bet for you." His skeletal grin widened. "I'll bet you can't take on a debtor…"
For once Dice showed uncertainty to this. Riggor saw his hesitation and jumped on it. "What's the matter? You not up for the challenge?" Riggor jeered. "I thought you always won a bet, Mr. King Dice. Unless you're too afraid, you can always stay here in the safety of the casino. You probably wouldn't last five minutes against a debtor anyway."
"You're wrong, Mr. Mortis. I didn't exactly say I couldn't take on a debtor now, did I?" Despite his common-sense, Dice ended up accepting the bet anyway. "I can fight anyone who messes with me! Jus' name the debtor and I'll deliver a wallop to em'. I'm always up for a lil' roughhousin'!"
Even though King Dice took on the challenge, it would also mean having to leave Devil's Casino. He wondered if it was such a good idea. The casino had become his home and Dice promised Devil he'd stay here and operate the casino business for him. After carefully thinking it over, Dice decided to go ahead with the bet. This would probably be a good opportunity to see how strong he's become. He could leave the casino and be back in no time before the Devil ever found out that he was gone.
There King Dice started for the double-doors and exited the casino. Soon he was leaving behind the casino and walking down the familiar cavernous tunnel that would lead him back to the outside world that was Inkwell Isles. Before heading any further, Dice stopped and took one last look back at Devil's Casino. This was probably not a good idea. There was a good chance this debtor might do him in. But Dice's pride motivated him on. He didn't like losing bets. And besides, he could bring back a soul-contract for the Devil so it would be an extra bonus and keep his boss from getting too angry at him. Dice turned away and left…
Here comes my favorite part. King Dice is going to take on his first debtor. Will he come out victorious or will the debtor in question prove to be too tough for him? We'll find out in next time's chapter. I promise it'll be an exciting chapter as readers will get to see how strong Dice can be. Don't miss the newest chapter!