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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic

Prolog (v.1) - Determined Brat

Submitted: October 14, 2017

Reads: 333

Comments: 7

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Submitted: October 14, 2017



There are four well-dressed men sitting around a small round-table in a middle of a game of poker. They each have their hands full, prepared to reveal them.

Their suits were tailored made, each having an extra long coat that easily obscures anything that they may be hiding from view.  The material looks to be high-quality silk, yet it also seems to be stiff. It was possible that even when they moved, nothing would be shown.

They watch each other carefully, attempting to gauge their opponent's hands.  The table itself was wooden and covered with variously colored chips. The rough amount of them saying that they either had a lot of money to blow or these were small bets. 

"Full house!" one of the men calls out as he throws his cards on top of the chips. He was relatively stout, though most wouldn't hesitate to call him short. His stomach said that he likely wasn't opposed to drinking. Or maybe he just found it difficult to lose weight.  Once he called his hand he quickly reached out to pull in the chip to be hit with a rude awakening.

One of the men slaps his hand, "Now hold on there! I have myself a straight." He confidently calls out a hand that should lose in this situation, yet no one at the table gives him an odd look. For some reason, they choose to hold it higher at this table. This man unlike the one with a full house was quite wiry but at the same time quite buff. His suit actually shows off his proportions quite well considering. Like the full house man, he goes to the grab the chips for things to not go as planned. 

A slender looking man stabs an old antique hawkbill knife with a shiny, round, wooden handle between the chips and the man with a straight. "Now both of you are getting ahead of yourselves..." his expression doesn't match his speech as he sounds quite uninterested. "...Papa has himself some royals." He places his cards on the table to reveal a royal flush. 

The other two men kick the table. They had been so confident their hands but this slender man had the best. 

"Now, you have to be cheating that's the third game in a row," the straight man complains. He throws his hands forward as he leans back as to say he's throwing the cards, but he obviously wasn't.

"You accusin' me of cheatin'!" The slender man rips the knife out the table as he stands up. 

"That's what I just said isn't it?!" The straight man kicks over the table and steps to the slender one. Why exactly should he be scared of a scrawny man with a knife? 

Before they can actually decide what they're gonna do, the sound of a gunshot rings out. "Both of ya, sit down!" A grizzled old man yells, "This is supposed to be for fun. I can't be losin' men over pity things like this." He slides the gun in his pants so the grip sits on the edge. It was as if this wasn't the first time they've argued and it's been quite annoying. This man was quite fit for his proposed age, probably having more muscle than any of the other men. He could probably put down all three of them by this point, but hopefully he didn't have to.

"Yes, boss," the two groan as they bow at him.

"Now pick up the chips," he growls. "I'll deal next so you don't have to worry about cheatin'," he lights a cigar to keep calm.

As the men are picking up the chips there is soon a knock on the steel door used to enter the room. 

"Slade, you have a visitor," penetrates the voice of a young boy.

"I'm busy tell em' to go away," the slender man replies while he picks up the chips.

"But sir, it sounds important." The boy emphasizes the situation but he sounds like he knows better.

"I said..." Slade begins turning his head towards the door.

"Let em' in," The boss cuts him off clearly interested in what possibly could be important enough to interrupt them. 

"But, Boss..." Slade drops the chips as he would rather not go through this right now.

"I said, let em' in," he now demands, rubbing his hand on his waist.

The men reluctantly sit and stare at the door as they wait for it to be opened. It takes a few minutes for everything on the opposite to be finished and the door finally creaks open. It reveals an extremely pretty short woman with large breast and a considerable butt. She was in nothing but pink, laced panties but was visibly bruised and beaten.

"What do you want?" Slade sighs having no interest in what she wants to say. 

"I have something to tell you..." The woman begins shivering possibly at the response he may give her.

"Out with it then!" Slade interrupts as he twirls the blade in his hand.

"I'm pregnant," she rushes out of her mouth as she shrinks down in fear.

"So what. Get rid of it like you always do," he shrugs it off as he places the knife behind his pocket sliding it between his leg and pants.

"I tried. Multiple times, it just doesn't want to die." Her voice getting more and more shakey as Slade gets more and more impatient.

Slade gets up and cracks his fingers, "so let's do it the old fashioned way then."

The boss extends his arm out in front of him to stop him. "No. If it wants to live that bad, let it. We'll find some use for it."

"Looks like papa's gonna be a papa," the straight man gets up and slaps Slade on the back.

Slade punches him in the temple and the boss chooses to ignore it.

He lets out a deep breath as he returns to his seat. "So whose is it?"

"Yours," The woman cowers and starts to back away as she knows the weight of those words.

"How do you know that? You're a whore it could be anyone's," Slade walks over to her expressing his frustration. 

"I narrowed it down," she begins to cry causing him to sigh. 

"You can find out whose it is when it's born," the boss would rather not hear Slade bitch about this if he doesn't have to. "Now you two get back to picking up the chips I want to play more" he looks to return to the topic before they came. He directs his demand to not just Slade but the house man. 

"Why me?" The house man asks putting his hand to his heart.

"Does he look like he can do it?" He points to the unconscious straight man.

A few months pass after the event. The boys have gathered for another game of poker, but the boys decide to out to them again.

"Slade she's going into labor!" He has no reason to beat around the bush about it.

Slade ignores the boy and goes to study his cards. 

"Come on, we'll go together," the boss directs to everyone. As he speaks he looks around at everyone and add emphasis to his words when he gets to Slade.

Slade groans and throws his hand face down as he and the others follow the boss out of the room. Having to bring one of his own into the world sucked on his own, but the amount of attention the boss is giving this can't add up to good. 

When they arrive they find two men holding her legs spread while a third awaits the arrival. 

Having no better option, everyone that was there waited to see what happens. It takes quite a while but soon the child comes out with no complications. The child was quite small, one may be able to comfortably hold it in the palm of their hand considering the size. It also seemed slightly underweight as well.

"It's a girl," The third man turns her and shows the boss.

"So what are you going to name it?" The boss questions Slade as he takes the time to think.

"Why do I have to do it?" He responds disinterested and focused on anything else he could be doing.

"Because it's yours," the boss replies poking Slade in the middle of his chest.

"We don't know that yet," Slade attempts to evade the situation.

"Then I'm making you take care of it," he boss stares daggers into Slade as the man knew full well what he meant. 

"I don't know, how about Crystal?"  He hunches his shoulders. It's not like it had to be complicated.

"Why Crystal?" The straight man inserts questioning the quality of the name.

"She's strong like a diamond I guess. It's the first thing that came to mind." Slade answers as he goes to lean against a wall and await the others to return to the game. 

"Crystal it is then," the boss accepts the poor name, giving off the atmosphere that he's proud for some unknown reason.

© Copyright 2018 Wyn. All rights reserved.


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