Alea Ludo

The rest of the day went on without incident. Or at least as far as I was concerned. I drank a few more shots of alcohol before heading over to the couch to rest my head. I wasn't drunk — just exhausted. It was going to be a long day. So, I had to prepare myself for what was to come.

That time, however, was abruptly cut short at the beat of approaching footsteps that came from the hall outside of the room. They came to a stop inside the lounge. I didn't open my eyes to see who they belonged. I already knew.

It was Henrika.

"Not in here either." She voiced her dissatisfaction but remained in the room. Her footsteps grew louder as she approached me. I kept my eyes closed and pretended to be asleep. I didn't know what she wanted, but it wasn't my intention to get involved. Unfortunately, things never tended to go my way. "Ambrose?" She placed her hand on my stomach then shook me gently, trying to "wake" me. I didn't respond. "Ambrose." The volume of her voice increased slightly. I still didn't respond. "Ambrose!"

Her voice resonated in my head after she yelled in my ear. I "woke" up and fell off the couch — hitting the floor next to her feet.

"Damn it! What the hell did you do that for?" I placed my hand on my ear to hopefully stop the pain in my head.

"Good, you're awake." She ignored my question entirely. That woman surprisingly acted differently compared to the times when she interacted with everyone else. "I need your help."

"After what you just did? F.u.c.k off."

"This is serious. I need your help."

"What do you want?" I returned to the couch, glancing up at the woman whose face displayed obvious concern.

"I'm looking for Nicholas. Have you seen him around anywhere?" She continued to look around the room.

"No, I haven't." I shook my head. "Have you tried searching for him in his room?"

"That was the first place I tried. There was no answer."

"Then I'm out of ideas." I returned to the comfort of the couch, where I stared aimlessly at the ceiling, hoping that she'd leave.

She didn't.

"You're no hope at all." She crossed her arms and frowned. I didn't know what her problem was with me. She rudely interrupted my moment of peace, asked me a question — which I honestly answered, and then she deemed me to be of no use?

"What were you honestly expecting from me? How am I supposed to know where he is?" I irritably glanced over at the brown-haired woman. "I'm not his keeper. Look for Wyatt. Maybe he knows."

"I've already done that too. Wyatt doesn't have a clue where Nicholas is." Henrika answered.

"Why the sudden urge to find him anyway?"

"I need to talk to him about something important."

"Well if he isn't with Wyatt and he's not in his room, try searching elsewhere. Away from here."

Her arms unfolded then moved down to her waist. "So, you're not going to help me look for him?"

"Why should I help you?"

"It would be the nice thing to do. We could cover more ground that way."

"Let me rephrase then. Why would I help you?"

She smacked her lips in response, dropping her arms down to her sides. "I thought you were supposed to be nicer."

"Don't know who told you that."

"Darius, Elena, and Iris."

"Well, they're mistaken."

"Clearly."

"So, are you going to leave or not? Nicholas isn't in here."

She tilted her head to the side, placing one hand on her hip. "Why in such a hurry to get rid of me?"

"You rudely interrupted my time of peace. Forgive me if I'm in a bit of a bad mood."

She had nothing to refute. However, she remained in the room — staring at me dubious eyes.

"Anything else you wanted to say?"

"No…nothing." She eventually surrendered then left the room. Once she was gone, I closed my eyes and tried to rest. But even that time was cut extremely short. Someone else entered the room with a distinguishable haughty laugh.

I recognized the person immediately. It was Salomon.

"Oh, so you do leave your room besides for meals or the games." He stopped at the entrance and looked over at me with a bright smile.

"Does everyone have to make it such a big deal?" I exasperatedly asked him.

"Well, you've made yourself out to be the loner type for the past four days. Can you blame them?"

"Whatever. Do you want something from me too?"

The old man shook his head then wandered over to the bar counter. "No. I only came here for a drink." He inspected some of the bottles on the shelf. "You mentioned that you're a bartender. What drink do you suggest for me?"

"Ginger Ale."

"Funny," He grabbed two bottles off the shelf then placed them on the bar counter. He switched glances at them every few seconds, "Can't decide. Guess it's time for Fate to decide for me."

"Fate?" I couldn't help but lean up from off the couch. The old man was an eccentric believer in fate. I for one don't believe in such garbage. What had fate ever done for me? Or anyone else for that matter? It was just as convoluted and worthless as religion, something to help distract clueless idiots; reassure them that there was a higher power looking after them in their life.

Salomon reached inside of his coat then pulled out his coin. He flipped it into the air then caught it in the palm of his hand. His expression brightened at the sight of it.

"She's made her choice." He took the bottle on the right, letting out another laugh of triumph.

"Is that how you make every decision?"

"Not every decision. Just the ones I believe that Fate should intervene."

"Choosing what kind of alcohol to drink is a situation where you need to rely on fate?" My skeptical tone brought out another laugh from the old man as he poured himself a glass.

"You'd be surprised, youngster. Fate knows best. She's kept me alive this far."

"You mentioned that you joined this game to test your luck."

"That's right; I did." He took a swig.

"How were you recruited?" I wandered over to the bar counter, taking a seat on the stool.

He set the glass down then responded, "Quite the personal question. Why the sudden interest?"

"Curiosity."

"Right."

"You going to answer or not?"

"I was found lying unconscious in an alleyway. Damn near starved to death," He finally revealed, "a man named Tanet approached me, and offered the chance to play in these games."

My hands curled into fists at the mention of Tanet. It was no longer a coincidence. I was sure that man was responsible for the recruitment of the other players. Even with the fact in mind, a question still lingered. What was it about the old man that interested Tanet enough to recruit him? The old man was eccentric. But that didn't seem to be enough to convince me. There had to be something else about him.

"You also mentioned that you're a war veteran?" I asked.

"That's right. As are you," Salomon pointed out, "How many years you sacrifice for your country?"

"Enough." My hands rested on my legs. "How did you know?"

"Takes one to know one, I guess." He took another swig, finishing off the glass in a flash. "You remind me of myself when I left after my second tour. The brooding attitude, you're antisocial, you isolate yourself. I bet you still have nightmares."

"Who doesn't?" I averted my eyes away from him. It was oddly assuring speaking with the man. He reminded me so much of Maynard.

"Have any recent ones?"

"Yeah."

"Figures."

"…Do they ever stop?"

"No, but alcohol sure helps." He poured another glass then passed it over to me.

"I hear that." I accepted the glass then finished it all down in one gulp.

"So, how did you find your way into this mess?" He suddenly asked me.

"Same as you. Tanet found me in my moment of weakness and convinced me to join in on all the fun." I sarcastically waved my hands in the air.

A chuckle came from the old man before he responded, "You're suddenly very talkative."

"As are you."

"I talk all the time. You're just usually locked away in your room."

"With good reason."

"I understand. You don't want to get too close to anyone. You've probably lost more friends and family than you can count. I understand it all…that pain…" Salomon finished off another glass.

"I bet you do," I recalled back to the time when he showed some of his battle scars on the first day of the games. Unlike him, I wasn't willing to do the same. My scars weren't something to show off to a bunch of strangers. "Don't know about you, but I'd rather keep my distance."

"Getting to know people isn't a bad thing. You said so yourself that this game wasn't about killing one another. The best way to accomplish that is by getting to know each other better."

A groan escaped from me as I looked away from him again. I hated it when people used my words against me. My past self should've learned to keep his mouth shut.

"That may be the case for others. But not for me." I told him.

"By getting to know each other, we can help each other survive through this."

"You can go ahead and hang on to that belief. I'll stick to flying solo."

"That attitude won't help you in life."

"Blindly putting faith in things such as God or Fate won't help me in life either. I'll stick to things that I know are real — like myself." I firmly placed my hand on my c.h.e.s.t.

"I don't know much about God. But, I know for a fact that Fate exists. She's helped me through some terrible hardsh.i.p.s throughout my life. If not for her, I would've died a long time ago." He quietly mentioned before he placed the coin on the table for me to see. "Now, I won't complain. I have no qualms about living or dying. Things happen that are just out of our control. I'm just here for the ride."

"How reckless of you." I scoffed at him.

"Maybe. Maybe not. It's not up to me to decide…" He picked up the coin then placed it back in his pocket.

"I don't understand how you can so confidently spout such nonsense about fate. How can anyone put their faith into such a ridiculous concept?" I averted my eyes from the old man. "In my opinion, people that rely on fate and religion are cowards that use those concepts as excuses."

Another haughty laugh came from the old man before he responded, "You're one troubled guy, Ambrose. You must've gone through some dark stuff to say things like that so maliciously." He poured two more glasses then passed one of them over to me.

"You could say that." I took the glass then drank.

"Well, let me tell you. You're not the only one that's gone through rough experiences. But, through those experiences, people need something to rely on or latch onto for comforting reasons. It can be something spiritual like religion, or physical like drinking and gambling. Either way, everyone needs something to help them live their lives as comfortably as possible."

My mind immediately went to the bar after I heard his words. The nostalgic and yet nauseating sour smells, the annoying co-workers and customers — all of those things made me feel right at home. The bar was the thing that I latched onto for comforting reasons. I didn't feel safe anywhere else in the world other than there. The old man was right. Everyone had something that they needed to help them live throughout their lives as comfortable as possible.

Others had religion, gambling, etc. — and I had the bar.

"You're right. Guess it isn't my place to look down on people based on their beliefs or insecurities."

"I knew talking with you would be interesting. It's good to see you coming out of your shell," said Salomon as he poured himself another glass.

I turned my head to face him. "I was never in a shell."

"Whatever you say," The questionable expression on his face said it all. "You know, the other youngsters were off-put around you at first. They mentioned how you looked like a thug."

I smacked my lips. "Bastards."

"Don't throw a tantrum. You have to admit that you didn't make it easy to talk to you at first." He tried his best not to laugh as he said, "First thing you did was tackle poor Darius to the ground when you came out of the room."

"Can you blame me? I woke up in a dark room, then later entered another room with a bunch of strangers. Being on my guard seemed like the best option at the time."

Another haughty laugh came from the old man. I don't know what it was that he found so damn hilarious.

"It's one of those, better safe than sorry situations, huh? I understand. But, it was still funny to watch." He finished off another cup. By that time, I had forgotten how many he had. It didn't seem to be that much since his speech hadn't deterred at all. He had gotten rowdier, however. "I tell you, should you ever start coming outside your room more, you'd realize how interesting the other players are. Did you know that Zoey has a strange fascination with technology?"

"Technology?" I asked.

"Yeah. Almost every time I come across her; she's just staring off at some of the machines in this facility. Almost like she's never seen them before." He continued to list off some habits of the other players that he considered unusual. Halfway through the one-sided conversation, I lost interest and resorted to merely nodding my head. It was unfortunate, but I had unknowingly been dragged into that man's pace.

He felt all too familiar. Breaking away from him was difficult. His gestures and mannerisms felt all too like Maynard was originally when I met him. Being around him put me at ease for the first time since I came to Serendipity. It was reassuring, but also upsetting. I promised myself that I wouldn't get too close to any of the players in Serendipity. After all, we weren't comrades. We were enemies. Although it was for a moment, I had forgotten that fact. Forgetting something as crucial as that was extremely dangerous.

Getting too comfortable with the other players would be a mistake. A mistake that I wouldn't want to risk. I couldn't trust anyone. I wouldn't trust anyone.

"Well, not that this hasn't been fun or anything, but I'm going to head back to my room now." I stood from the chair. "I'd like to get some rest before the next game starts."

"No need to come up with an excuse for me. If you're not ready to open up yet, don't worry about it." Salomon casually told me. I immediately opened my mouth to defend my excuse, but I knew it would be pointless. Despite his old age, Salomon's mind was sharp as a blade. I believed that hardly anything could get through him. I bid the old man farewell then headed towards the door. I came to a stop once he said, "Oh before you go, you may want to learn how to lighten up sooner or later. Your footsteps sound a bit heavy."

"…I'll take that under advis.e.m.e.nt."

And with that, I left the lounge then headed for my room.