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๐ป๐๐ ๐ซ๐๐๐๐ ๐ณ๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐ช๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐:
Jackson Drake: A washed-up, cynical ex-soldier with nothing to lose. He's tough, haunted by his past, and numb to danger.
Maddie Delaney: A fierce and resourceful survivor of the slums, she partners with Jackson for protection but is smarter than she appears.
Victor Kane: A sadistic billionaire who runs an underground game where contestants are forced to kill for survival.
..............
INT. DANK WAREHOUSE - NIGHT
Jackson Drake awoke with a pounding headache, his vision blurred. The smell of damp rot and rusted metal filled the air, causing him to gag as he coughed himself into consciousness. He pushed himself up from the concrete floor, wincing as he realized his wrists were bruised and his knees ached as if he'd been dropped here from some height.
Looking around, Jackson's soldier instincts kicked in. The place was large, cold, and unfamiliar-a dilapidated warehouse. Dozens of others were sprawled out around him, some stirring like him, others still unconscious. Men and women, all rough-looking, dressed in ragged clothing. The kind of people no one would miss. In the center of the room was a raised platform, upon which stood a sleek, metallic device that resembled an oversized roulette wheel.
Jackson rubbed his temples and scanned the crowd again. His eyes caught on Maddie Delaney, crouched in the corner. She was awake, sharp brown eyes darting around, sizing up the situation just as he was. He knew her from the streets-a small-time hustler from the slums. She had been quick on her feet, always managing to avoid the same deadly traps that caught others.
She met his gaze, giving him a brief nod. He made his way toward her, carefully stepping around the still-unconscious bodies.
"You have any idea where we are?" Jackson growled, his voice hoarse.
Maddie glanced at the roulette wheel. "I've heard rumors. Underground games. The worst kind."
Jackson frowned. "The Death Lottery."
She nodded grimly. "They pick up people like us, no one important. Throw us into their game, make us fight for survival. It's a sport for rich bastards."
Jackson cursed under his breath. He had heard of it before in whispers, though he'd always thought it was just a myth. The Death Lottery-a twisted game run by billionaires, where the rules were simple: survive, or die in the most brutal way imaginable.
Just as he was about to ask Maddie more, the room was suddenly bathed in light. A series of metal shutters slammed down over the windows, trapping them all inside. The air became electric with tension as the remaining participants woke up, panicked cries filling the space.
A loud voice crackled through the speakers overhead.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the voice drawled, smooth as silk and cold as ice. "Welcome to The Death Lottery!"
All eyes turned toward the platform.
A man stood there, wearing an immaculately tailored suit. Victor Kane. Jackson recognized the face from underground tabloids. A billionaire who had made his fortune in black-market dealings. His eyes were empty, soulless.
"You have all been selected," Kane continued, "because society has deemed you unworthy of life. But here, you have a chance to prove your worth. The rules are simple: every round, one of you will be chosen to face a challenge. Succeed, and you live. Fail, and, well..." He smiled darkly. "The wheel decides your fate."
..............
Kane gestured toward the massive roulette wheel, which hummed to life with a mechanical whir. It glowed ominously as it began to spin, the metal clicking in a sick rhythm as it chose its target.
"Let the games begin!" Kane announced, his voice full of sick glee.
The wheel stopped. The crowd tensed.
A light flickered above one of the contestants-a gaunt, wiry man. His face turned pale as the game started.
....................
(Jackson relected on the events that had transpired earlier. The sharp metallic sound of the cage door slamming shut was the last thing he heard before the lights went out. It was pitch black now, as if the darkness itself had swallowed him whole. A silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, broken only by the slow, steady dripping of water somewhere far in the distance.
Jackson's mind, already numb from years of war, trauma, and loss, registered no panic. He had been in worse places. Hell, he had lived in worse places for what felt like a lifetime. Combat zones, isolation cells, shantytowns-they all blurred into one after a while. Now, though, this...this was different. This was designed to break people, and whoever built this cage had done it for fun.
He wasn't alone. He could feel the quiet breathing of the other participants, huddled in the dark like animals waiting for slaughter. He didn't know how many there were, but he guessed no more than ten. From the brief glimpse he'd gotten before they were thrown into this godforsaken hole, he knew they were all desperate. Some looked tough; others looked scared. Most of them were young, people like him who had been chewed up by the world and spit out, only to end up here, in The Death Lottery.
Suddenly, a blinding light flooded the room. Jackson squinted, his hand shielding his eyes as the spotlight settled on a tall, charismatic...
Jackson Drake: A washed-up, cynical ex-soldier with nothing to lose. He's tough, haunted by his past, and numb to danger.
Maddie Delaney: A fierce and resourceful survivor of the slums, she partners with Jackson for protection but is smarter than she appears.
Victor Kane: A sadistic billionaire who runs an underground game where contestants are forced to kill for survival.
..............
INT. DANK WAREHOUSE - NIGHT
Jackson Drake awoke with a pounding headache, his vision blurred. The smell of damp rot and rusted metal filled the air, causing him to gag as he coughed himself into consciousness. He pushed himself up from the concrete floor, wincing as he realized his wrists were bruised and his knees ached as if he'd been dropped here from some height.
Looking around, Jackson's soldier instincts kicked in. The place was large, cold, and unfamiliar-a dilapidated warehouse. Dozens of others were sprawled out around him, some stirring like him, others still unconscious. Men and women, all rough-looking, dressed in ragged clothing. The kind of people no one would miss. In the center of the room was a raised platform, upon which stood a sleek, metallic device that resembled an oversized roulette wheel.
Jackson rubbed his temples and scanned the crowd again. His eyes caught on Maddie Delaney, crouched in the corner. She was awake, sharp brown eyes darting around, sizing up the situation just as he was. He knew her from the streets-a small-time hustler from the slums. She had been quick on her feet, always managing to avoid the same deadly traps that caught others.
She met his gaze, giving him a brief nod. He made his way toward her, carefully stepping around the still-unconscious bodies.
"You have any idea where we are?" Jackson growled, his voice hoarse.
Maddie glanced at the roulette wheel. "I've heard rumors. Underground games. The worst kind."
Jackson frowned. "The Death Lottery."
She nodded grimly. "They pick up people like us, no one important. Throw us into their game, make us fight for survival. It's a sport for rich bastards."
Jackson cursed under his breath. He had heard of it before in whispers, though he'd always thought it was just a myth. The Death Lottery-a twisted game run by billionaires, where the rules were simple: survive, or die in the most brutal way imaginable.
Just as he was about to ask Maddie more, the room was suddenly bathed in light. A series of metal shutters slammed down over the windows, trapping them all inside. The air became electric with tension as the remaining participants woke up, panicked cries filling the space.
A loud voice crackled through the speakers overhead.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the voice drawled, smooth as silk and cold as ice. "Welcome to The Death Lottery!"
All eyes turned toward the platform.
A man stood there, wearing an immaculately tailored suit. Victor Kane. Jackson recognized the face from underground tabloids. A billionaire who had made his fortune in black-market dealings. His eyes were empty, soulless.
"You have all been selected," Kane continued, "because society has deemed you unworthy of life. But here, you have a chance to prove your worth. The rules are simple: every round, one of you will be chosen to face a challenge. Succeed, and you live. Fail, and, well..." He smiled darkly. "The wheel decides your fate."
..............
Kane gestured toward the massive roulette wheel, which hummed to life with a mechanical whir. It glowed ominously as it began to spin, the metal clicking in a sick rhythm as it chose its target.
"Let the games begin!" Kane announced, his voice full of sick glee.
The wheel stopped. The crowd tensed.
A light flickered above one of the contestants-a gaunt, wiry man. His face turned pale as the game started.
....................
(Jackson relected on the events that had transpired earlier. The sharp metallic sound of the cage door slamming shut was the last thing he heard before the lights went out. It was pitch black now, as if the darkness itself had swallowed him whole. A silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, broken only by the slow, steady dripping of water somewhere far in the distance.
Jackson's mind, already numb from years of war, trauma, and loss, registered no panic. He had been in worse places. Hell, he had lived in worse places for what felt like a lifetime. Combat zones, isolation cells, shantytowns-they all blurred into one after a while. Now, though, this...this was different. This was designed to break people, and whoever built this cage had done it for fun.
He wasn't alone. He could feel the quiet breathing of the other participants, huddled in the dark like animals waiting for slaughter. He didn't know how many there were, but he guessed no more than ten. From the brief glimpse he'd gotten before they were thrown into this godforsaken hole, he knew they were all desperate. Some looked tough; others looked scared. Most of them were young, people like him who had been chewed up by the world and spit out, only to end up here, in The Death Lottery.
Suddenly, a blinding light flooded the room. Jackson squinted, his hand shielding his eyes as the spotlight settled on a tall, charismatic...
