51 Chapter Fifty
Warning: This chapter is a bit graphic so be warned, there are scenes of torture, swearing and graphic writing - You have been warned.
(I Highly, Highly, Highly recommend you listen to this song on repeat while reading this chapter: Song - Je Te Laisserai Des Mots( I may have shed a tear or two while writing this chapter)
This chapter will be quite long since it's chapter 50.
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( Unkown Location)
The horse race betting stadium sprawled out before him, a vast expanse filled to the brim with thousands of spectators.
Despite the sheer magnitude of the crowd, an uncanny silence permeated the air, casting an unsettling feeling over the entire arena.
It was as if a collective hush had fallen upon the stadium, muffling the usual hum of excitement and anticipation that accompanies such events.
The absence of chatter and animated discussions was replaced by an eerie stillness that sent a shiver down my spine.
Every seat was occupied by individuals clad in impeccably tailored suits, their attire exuding an air of sophistication.
However, it was their masks that truly caught my attention.
Each one adorned with meticulously painted tear streaks, the masks conveyed an unmistakable sense of mourning and grief. The sea of mournful faces created a disconcerting sight as if a sombre procession of mourners had assembled to witness the unfolding events.
Amidst this surreal spectacle, one figure stood out from the rest.
A middle-aged man, seemingly unremarkable at first glance, yet there was an undeniable peculiarity about him.
As I observed him closely, a disquieting realization washed over me. Despite the solemn ambience that surrounded us, his lips curled into a grin, his eyes flickering with a hint of madness.
It was an unsettling combination of euphoria and fear, an intricate dance between delight and dread that played out upon his features.
In the midst of the eerie atmosphere, a sudden shift in the mood gripped the stadium. The silence was shattered by a jarring voice emanating from the speakers of the race track, its distorted tones sending chills down my spine.
The voice declared the imminent commencement of the races, injecting an undercurrent of foreboding into the air.
Instantly, the previously dormant crowd sprang to life, a surge of energy propelling them into a frenzy of movement.
A collective cry erupted, drowning out any remnants of tranquillity that had lingered moments before.
The spectators surged forward, jostling and clamouring for the best vantage point to witness the impending spectacle. The once-muted stadium transformed into a seething cauldron of excitement and anticipation.
Caught in the midst of this surreal and chaotic scene, I found myself rooted to the spot, a mere observer during this curious gathering.
The sight that unfolded before me was like a fevered dream, a macabre masquerade that defied rational comprehension.
Who were these masked individuals, their faces etched with painted tears, surrendering themselves to this ominous charade? What secrets lay beneath their sombre facades? And what mysteries awaited as the races unfurled?
As the thunderous sound of hooves echoed through the stadium, marking the arrival of the first racehorse, the tension reached its zenith.
The ground trembled beneath the powerful gallop, mirroring the pounding hearts of the crowd.
It was a symphony of raw energy, the thundering rhythm accompanied by fervent cries and exclamations from the onlookers.
Yet, beneath the surface of this frenetic display, I sensed a deeper undercurrent, a profound narrative unfolding within the enigmatic confines of this haunting arena.
The air crackled with anticipation as the horses blazed past in a blur of speed and power.
As the race began, the booming voice of the host and the enthusiastic commentary of the race speaker filled the stadium, adding a layer of excitement to the already charged atmosphere.
Their voices blended with the thundering hooves, creating a symphony of anticipation and suspense.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most thrilling horse race of the season! Ten magnificent horses are about to compete in this momentous event. Let's see who will emerge victorious!"
"And they're off! The horses burst out of the starting gate, each jockey vying for position. It's a race like no other, folks!"
The horses thundered down the track, their muscles rippling with power as they galloped towards the finish line.
The crowd erupted into a chorus of cheers and shouts, their voices melding with the intense commentary.
"In the lead, we have number three, Golden Lightning, closely followed by number eight, Midnight Shadow. It's a fierce battle for dominance!"
"Indeed, this race is shaping up to be a thrilling contest. Keep your eyes peeled, folks, anything can happen!"
Amidst the exhilaration of the race, my attention was drawn to the man with insanity in his eyes, the gambler whose hopes were pinned on horse number seven, Chestnut.
He stood amidst the sea of spectators, his body trembling with a potent mix of anticipation and nerves. This race had the potential to be the gamble of his life, and he knew it.
As the horses thundered past, Chestnut remained near the back of the pack, seemingly out of contention.
The gambler's heart sank, his excitement giving way to a creeping sense of despair.
He watched the race with a mixture of frustration and determination, hoping against hope for a miraculous turn of events.
"It's neck and neck as they enter the final stretch! Golden Lightning and Midnight Shadow are still in the lead, but wait, here comes Chestnut! He's making his move!"
The crowd gasped in anticipation as Chestnut surged forward, his powerful strides propelling him closer to the frontrunners. The gambler's eyes widened, a spark of hope rekindling within him. Could this be it? Could Chestnut secure an incredible comeback?
"Chestnut is gaining momentum! He's overtaking one horse after another! What a breathtaking display of speed and determination!"
The gambler's heart raced alongside Chestnut, his anticipation reaching a crescendo.
Victory seemed within grasp, a tantalizing possibility that danced on the horizon. The crowd joined him in his excitement, their cheers growing louder as Chestnut closed the gap.
But just as the gambler dared to believe in the triumph of his chosen horse, a twist of fate intervened. Chestnut faltered, his pace slowing down.
The jubilant cries of the crowd turned into murmurs of disappointment. The gambler sank to his knees, tears streaming down his face, a mixture of despair and disbelief etched upon his features.
"No! No! How could this happen?... They cheated! It's not fair! he was going to win..."
His voice cracked with anguish as he shouted at the sky, his outburst a futile attempt to find solace or an explanation for this heartbreaking turn of events.
His dreams shattered, his hopes dashed, and the gambler felt a sense of loss that cut deep into his soul.
Amidst the commotion, the host and race speaker tried to maintain their composure, their voices tinged with sympathy.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it seems that Chestnut couldn't maintain his momentum in the final moments. A disappointing outcome for our daring gambler."
"Indeed, a heartbreaking turn of events for our passionate player. Horse racing can be unpredictable, and today, luck was not on his side."
"But let's not forget the incredible effort and skill displayed by all the horses and jockeys in this exhilarating race. It's a reminder that in this sport, anything can happen."
As the crowd slowly regained their composure, whispers and murmurs filled the air.
Some offered words of consolation to the devastated gambler, while others debated the outcome of the race. But amid the disappointment, there was also a sense of admiration for Chestnut's valiant effort.
(sobbing)
"I can't believe it... I thought this was my chance... my best gamble... It's all gone..."
The gambler's voice cracked with emotion, his dreams shattered in an instant.
He struggled to contain his anguish, his heart heavy with the weight of what could have been. But amidst the despair, a glimmer of resilience flickered in his eyes.
" You, You...Bastard, this was a scam, you cheated, give me another life, I'll bet I'll bet..."
" You have nothing more to bet..." A voice suddenly sounded out from everywhere and nowhere.
As the gambler screamed to the sky, his voice filled with desperation, he begged for one more chance, another opportunity to win.
But instead of a response, a chilling, sinister laughter echoed throughout the entire stadium. It sent shivers down his spine, making him question the nature of the laughter itself.
The laughter seemed to fill the air, suffocating him with its eerie presence. It was a laugh that resonated with a sense of darkness and malevolence, leaving the gambler feeling unnerved and trapped in an ominous reality.
Before the gambler could utter another plea, everything around him disappeared in an instant.
The race stadium, the cheering crowd, and even the horse he had bet on vanished, leaving him suspended in a void of nothingness.
Confusion and fear washed over him as he found himself tied to a table, his limbs securely restrained.
The room he now occupied was dimly lit, with a single source of light casting eerie shadows on himself and the floor.
The gambler's heart raced as he struggled against his restraints, panic consuming him. He searched for any sign of an exit or a way to free himself, but all he could see was the haunting emptiness that surrounded him.
His mind raced with questions. How had he ended up in this nightmarish situation?
Who or what was responsible for his predicament? The gambler's eyes darted around the room, desperately seeking answers that seemed just out of reach.
"No...nonononononnonononononononononnonononononononononnonononononononononnononono!!!"
"Please, please give me one more life...my Child, ill gamble my daughter, if I lose you can have her..." The gambler screamed with fear as he tried getting out of his bonds.
"Sigh, I'm so sorry Mr Shawn, but you are all out of lives...and now you must face the consequences."
"You...You LIED TO ME, YOU DEMON, YOUR NOT HUMAN...YOUR..."
"Tut, tut, tut...that isent very family friendly now is it Mr Shawn, when you agreed to this game you knew the consequences, and sadly your gamble just didn't pay off."
The voice hidden in the darkness said before four ominous spotlights shined on four objects that were hiding in the dark before.
They were horses, but not just any horses, they were the horses that had caused Chestnut to lose and get fith place.
The gambler's eyes widened in terror and disbelief as he looked around him, he noticed that all four horses had ropes tied around them, and those ropes were connected to every one of his limbs.
"No...no, please I...I have a daughter, ill do anything,..." The man trembled as his eyes and nose spewed snot and tears.
"Oh, you mean the daughter that you were willing to use as a wager not too long ago...I'm sorry Mr Shawn...but rules are rules."
"But from the bottom of my heart, the Architect sends his condolences and hopes that you enjoyed playing his game."
Mr Shawn completely ignored him and screamed for help while trying to escape...but it was of no use, his fate was already sealed the moment he agreed to play.
It was a losing bet from the beginning.
Slowly a fith roope extended from the darkness and wrapped around Mr shawns neck.
Shawn was forced to look up, as a fith light shined down and illuminated a fith horse.
' Ch-chestnut...' The man thought in despair and rage.
Suddenly a man wearing a suit and a tear-painted mask walked out from the shadows and bowed.
"What a wonderful game this was...but like all good games, they must all come to an end."
"No...NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!...."
The masked Individual just looked on as Mr Shawn continued to beg for his life.
Mr mask lifted his arm, and with a simple snap of his fingers, all the previously calm horses suddenly went into a frenzy and dashed forward as if they saw something that had frightened them.
"GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! IT HURTS, IT HURTS, IM BEING RIPPED APART...PLEASE STOP, PLEAASSEEEE..."
The masked individual only chuckled as he watched the horses slowly rip apart each and every one of Mr Shawn's limbs.
Then Mr Mask snapped his fingers a second time, and Chestnut who had not run let out a horrifying scream before running forward...
Time seemed to have frozen for Mr Shawn as he saw his life flash before his eyes...
The last thing he saw as his head was mercilessly ripped away from his body... was his daughters smiling face...
'Ellie...daddies so sorry...I'm so sor...'
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(Bumb.....crash)
MrShawns'' head slowly rolled on the floor before stopping near the feet of the masked individual.
Mr Mask looked down before lifting his foot and smashing it into the ground, completely obliterating Mr shaws head into a million bloody pieces
"What a marvellous game it was...better luck next time...Mr Shawn." Mr mask chuckled before turning around and stepping back into the darkness.
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(Gotham City - Gotham Leeds Primary School)
Ellie, a young and vibrant 7-year-old girl, stood outside the nursery, her tiny figure bundled up in a warm coat to shield her from the biting cold.
Her rosy cheeks matched her bright eyes, shimmering with anticipation as she eagerly awaited her daddy's arrival.
The teaching staff, concerned for her well-being, approached Ellie with gentle concern.
"Are you okay, Ellie?" One of the staff members asked, her voice filled with empathy. "Would you like us to call your dad to see where he is?"
Ellie shook her head, her smile unwavering. "No," she replied, her innocent voice carrying a touch of hope. "Daddy promised to pick me up and get me ice cream. I'm sure Daddy's just running a bit late." Her laughter, pure and carefree, filled the air, reflecting her unwavering trust in her father.
The nursery staff exchanged glances, their hearts heavy with the knowledge that Ellie's father had often let her down before.
They had witnessed moments like this when Ellie's little face would light up with hope, believing that her daddy would be there for her, only to face disappointment when hours passed and he still hadn't arrived.
Despite their sadness, they admired Ellie's unwavering faith in her father.
They wished they could protect her from the disappointment and heartache that often accompanied his absences, but they knew it was not within their power to change the situation.
As Ellie stood there, gazing hopefully at the passing cars and bustling streets, the nursery staff couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions.
They felt a profound sadness for the little girl who deserved nothing but love and stability.
They also felt a sense of admiration for Ellie's resilience and the unwavering belief she held in her father, despite the repeated letdowns.
' Truly, some people just aren't born to be parents.' Was what all the teachers thought as they watched over Ellie and waited with her.
Oblivious to the fact that Ellie's daddy would never be coming again...
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(Mr Shawn: Pic)
(Mr Mask: Pic)
( Ellie: Pic)
