Mantis

The room was dark, reeking of tobacco; the men could barely see each other’s faces through the drifting smoke. Glasses of scotch and plastic bags of white powder littered the table, and the men leaned close to get a better look at the action.

“I’m running this city already, ten hotels and more on the way,” Damian said, leaning back and puffing on his cigar. “No one’s catching me now.”  

“You’ve been making these roundabout deals with everyone at the table, you’re dirtier than shit,” Mantis replied angrily. He’d been growing more and more frustrated as the night progressed, and even the cigarettes couldn’t ease him. He eyed Damian disgustedly.

The other two men could feel the heat building.

“He’s not wrong,” Jarvis chimed in. “You’ve been making deals with the devil since all this shit started.”

           “True,” Myles said.

           “That’s not how this shit works!” Damian yelled. “You don’t get anywhere playing nice with everyone. There’s deals, there’s dirty. You gotta do what you gotta do.”

           “No one said you could cheat,” Mantis told him.

           “Who said I’m cheating?”

           “I’m saying you’re cheating. You’ve been cheating your whole damn life.”

           Damian scoffed and shook his head. “Let’s just do some business here, alright? I’m tired of this shit.”

           A level of quiet chatter settled on the room. Distant mutterings could be heard as money exchanged hands.

           “Now hold on,” Mantis interjected, shattering the fragile peace of the room.

           “Now what?” Myles said.

           “I just saw him take that hundred. He snatched that hundred right off the table and it’s in his pocket right now.”

           “Man, c’mon,” Damian pleaded. “If you’re mad I’m doing better than you just say it -”

           “You were in jail five seconds ago now you’re out here with thousands of dollars. How does that happen? How does that make any damn sense?” Mantis asked him. He sat back with his arms folded, pursing his lips. “How does that make any sense?!”

           “I’m a good businessman,” Damian replied gently. “I know where to buy, I know where to sell. It’s not that hard, Mantis. You just gotta look and see what’s poppin.”

           “Man, fuck you,” Mantis muttered. “How the hell you get out of jail that fast, anyways?” He wasn’t letting up.

           “I paid my dues,” Damian replied. “I did my time.”

           “YOU DIDN’T DO SHIT!”

           “Man, calm down, Mantis,” Jarvis said. “We’ll sort this shit out.”

           “It’s never gonna be sorted out,” Mantis shot back. “I’m out here dwindling, been on my last legs forever. Had to mortgage my fuckin property, pay motherfuckers taxes every ten minutes. I’m a hundred dollars away from being bankrupt. And this man won’t share a goddamm dime.”

           “Ain’t no sharing,” Myles said.

           “There ya go,” Damian said, gesturing to Myles. “Ain’t no sharing. Ain’t never been no sharing.”

           “And when you were on the streets who helped you? Who helped you?” Mantis questioned.

           “Now you’re bringing shit up that don’t have no place here.”

           “Ungrateful son of a bitch,” Mantis muttered.

           “Just say you’re jealous of me and we can move on from this,” Damian said.

           Up until this point, Mantis had been holding it together; now everything came tumbling out. Jarvis and Myles were able to see it in the split second before it happened, but neither could do anything to stop it.

           Mantis pulled the gun out from his waistband and aimed it at Damian’s head, clicking the safety off.

           “Jesus Christ!” Myles screamed.

           “Calm the fuck down!” Jarvis yelled.

           Only Damian stayed quiet, staring up at the barrel of the gun. The other men scooted away from the action; Damian seemed frozen in his chair, still holding money in his hand. Mantis was standing with the gun drawn, pointing it down at Damian’s head. It didn’t waver.

           “So this is how it’s gonna be,” Damian said softly.

           “Put the money on the table,” Mantis told him.

           “I –”

           “Put the money on the table.”

           Slowly, Damian placed the money in his hand on the center of the table.  

           “That all you got?” Mantis asked.

           “I didn’t steal shit,” Damian responded coldly. “All I got is right in front of me.”

           The gun wavered and finally dropped, and Mantis tucked the gun back into his waistband. He sat down.

           “What the fuck was that?” Jarvis asked, scooting back towards the table with Myles.

           “Man, I don’t trust anyone here,” Mantis said. “There was a hell of a lot more money in the middle when all this shit started. I don’t know who took it, but imma find out by the end of this night.”

           “No one took the damn money,” Jarvis said.

           “Bull shit.”

           The men commenced again. From the outside it may have looked like nothing had happened; that the air of the room had again taken on an almost peaceful quality. But the creases in the men’s faces, the tighter gestures and the fleeting gazes told the more intrigued onlooker that the tension had risen considerably.

           The losses started piling up for Myles, who was becoming increasingly agitated. Finally, he made eye contact with Mantis.

           “I’m not stupid,” Myles said flatly.

           “What?” Mantis asked. Even he looked surprised.

           “I’ve been watching you all night motherfucker,” Myles said. “Out here accusing people left and right. You’re the only one whose been cheating tonight. Trying to pawn everyone else. I’m not an idiot. I see what you’re doing.”

           “You think I’m cheating?” Mantis asked, with a devilish smirk curling his lips.

           “I know you are.”

           “You think. . . I’m cheating.”

           A brief silence played out as both men stared at each other grimly.

           “Man fuck this,” Mantis finally said, and reached into his waistband. But before he could even draw the gun, a blast exploded from the table. Damian and Jarvis jumped, screaming and flailing away from the table. The bullet caught Mantis in the neck. He stumbled a bit and then fell back onto the ground, clutching his gushing jugular, choking as the life flooded out of him.

           “HOLY FUCK,” Damian yelled, looking down at the mess on the floor. “Why -”

           But before he could finish, a hole appeared in his head. Jarvis started to run, finally realizing his fate. He got caught in the back of the head with Myles’s last bullet.

           Breathing out, Myles let the gun fall, peering at the remains of his work. Then, casually, he gathered up the money from the table.

           “That’s why you don’t play Monopoly with real money,” he muttered, and flung the game board onto the ground, sending the pieces, tiny hotels and homes, flying across the room. Some of them scattered into the bloody puddles littered across the dark ground.

           Game night had been a success.