How long had Jimmy been tied up? Hours? Days? A week?

There was no way to tell. He knew his brother needed help; honestly, it was amazing that little trooper hadn’t already died of blood loss.

The tourniquet? No. Don’t give yourself credit. You’re not half of the man Timmy is.

He and his brother were wrapped in a cocoon of threads and stickied to the wall just like a living hide.

He could swivel his head just enough to see his little brother’s pained expression, the little trooper’s face, damn near green.

At first, Jimmy wailed and screamed, but the gag in his mouth rendered coherent speech impossible.

The demoness and the pot bellied lizard played hand after hand of a game that looked like cards. Occasionally the lizard glanced up to check on them, but the demoness…

To her, the struggling brothers didn’t even exist.

I may not be worth it, but Timmy…

He heard the lizard’s deal. Long since past kicking himself for his shortsightedness, Jimmy focused on the future, on the task at hand.

What tore at Jimmy’s insides wasn’t the predicament he’d put Timmy in nor was it his little brother’s sickly green face. It was the look of resignation he carried.

Not that Timmy had given up…Nuh-uh…his little brother would never give up. Timmy was the strongest man he knew, and Jimmy kicked himself for only realizing this fact now.

Jimmy may have screamed and pleaded in his futile attempts at attention, but Timmy never did; he was too busy gnawing.

Between Timmy’s resigned expression and him gnawing on the gag, Jimmy knew his brother heard the deal, too.

Timmy had a head start, but he was weak from blood loss. That gave Jimmy an advantage. He gnashed away at his own gag.

It was a race, a race to scream ‘Kill me! Make a deal with my brother’ between the two of them.

Maybe if Jimmy struggled more and made it look like his bindings were failing, the lizard would take notice? That pot-bellied bastard might even try to readjust the bindings, and if he readjusted the gag…

Heh, heh, heh. I’m not above cheating. Little brother, you can barely force yourself to gnash, but me? I can both gnash and squirm. I’m going to win, and there’s not a damn thing you can do. Cry foul? Who’s going to listen. Mom and Dad are pricks and this lot is slightly worse.

Unfortunately, his squirming only caught the attention of that fake, S&M loving hostage as he fiddled with the socket on his stump leg. Holding up a handful of clay, he gave Jimmy an understanding nod and began to hop over.

The lizard eyed the hostage warily, but never paused his game. In fact, he might have even won the round he was playing.

“Canasta!” His gravelly voice cried.

The demoness eyed the makeshift cards in front of him.

“Nope, you’re one book short,” she said. “Remember? You gotta have three books of naturals this last round.”

The lizard scoffed. “Thwarted…again.”

Distracted, the fake hostage hopped to the table and peeked over the lizard’s shoulder. “Haha! What a loser! You can’t beat my princess.”

The lizard mumbled and smacked the hostage upside the head with its tail.

Come on kid…remember your mission. You were coming over here. Don’t get distracted. I’m going to cheat to win, dammit!

That fake hostage took notice and gave Jimmy another knowing nod, rolling that ball of clay around in his hand.

Is he distracting them so I can work my way free? No, no, that little shit probably just enjoys the abuse. I bet he came a bit when the lizard smacked him.

Jimmy gnashed and struggled and wailed. He was determined to help the brat remember his original mission. And it worked.

Haha! Cheat to win!

The brat sighed and quit picking on the lizard to hop over, rolling that ball all the while. He hopped right in front of Jimmy until they were looking eye to eye.

That kid still hadn’t washed his hair. A crusty scab formed in the middle of his head with bits of mud flaking here and there. Blood plastered his otherwise white hair down in a matted disaster.

Jimmy struggled and wailed. My bindings are loose, you need to tighten them, especially the gag. I’m into S&M just like you! I like the gag nice and tight. Pull it off so you can readjust it, little buddy. I’m sorry for all the mean things I said.

The hostage reached up…

And put the ball of clay on Jimmy’s head, a crude hat.

He patted Jimmy on the shoulder. “There ya go, little buddy.”

No! No! No! You’re the little buddy, not me! Wait…I mean, No! You’re supposed to adjust the gag, dumbass.

Jimmy chomped frantically, the gag began to loosen.

He kept chomping and chomping, and the kid kept patting him on the shoulder.

Stop trying to comfort me and get into character! This is S&M and I have a loose gag. A cardinal sin, I’m sure of it.

Snap!

“M…me…kill me.” A hoarse voice said.

What? No, Impossible! I have cheat-like abilities compared to your feeble body!

“D-dead. I’m d-dead. Kill me…kill me,” Jimmy’s little brother, that strong fucking trooper said.

Fuck you, bro!

Jimmy bit down so hard, his teeth sounded like they cracked, then he gnashed down even harder. Then, even harder.

His little brother kept going on and on about killing him and all kinds of other drivel, but Jimmy wasn’t one to take a big fat ‘L’ gracefully. Nope, he was a sore loser and not too proud to admit it.

The lizard put down his cards for the first time, studying Timmy. That fat bastard nodded, he fucking nodded. He even went so far as to stand up and wheel the demoness’ squeaky chair over, right in front of little Timmy.

Not a chance! I’m a sore loser, dammit!

The dragon grabbed the demoness under the armpits and dragged her to her feet. She limply hung down like an invalid, but the Dragon didn’t relent. He kicked the chair across the room and motioned to the fake-hostage.

“Bring me the sword,” he instructed.

“Fine! This better work…,” the hostage replied, retrieving Valreaper.

The lizard stuck the sword in the demoness’ hand and forced her to grab it. With the lizard guiding her arm, the tip of the blade touched Timmy’s bindings.

Timmy, that little shit, even had the audacity to look over with a smug grin.

No, no, no, you haven’t won yet! I'm OP!

Jimmy bit down so hard, he knew he’d cracked out teeth. Slobbering through the metallic taste of blood, he gnashed like a madman.

And then, Pop!

His gag fell and Jimmy said—

Okay, Jimmy gurgled. There really was a ridiculous amount of blood. Who knew? Possibly only nine out of ten dentists.

Mush mouthed, he sprayed blood everywhere and screamed, “Me! Kill me you stupid bitch! You fat ugly whore! You S&M loving, ass reaming, shit devouring, slut! Kill me, Stupid!”

The number one rule of gaming: never forget to trash talk. Sorry, Timmy. Game set and match.