"Shit" I whispered "Its one of those things ya gotta experences" Dr said. "Hehe"I laughed cooldly. "Ya know what im talking about"? he asked "Yeah man". "We're in to deep now to turn away". I joked "Sure are". "Whatch your self"I mumbeled as he almost triped on the cobbel stone walk way through the marshy forest. "It feels like the Devil's on our back"he whispered adrialen shakeing his words. Like normal. "Yeah" We rounded a willow to see our destination so I raised my head to seem a tiny bit taller. I was here to be his second voice in this game. The game DR was famous for. DR. It wasnt Doctor,it stood for Doubel R. Which stood for... Russian Rulet. His game of pride. A game where some one always died. See I aint never shot nobody but im know for fighting. When I fight im fast..but thats it fast, so I tend to just dodge and humiliat my enemy till they are eghusted. DR....he played this game instead. The small silver revolver sat on the ground as four deer and there second voices stood around. Second voices where in charge of keeping track of the time when there player died, cleaning up there blood, and burying the body. A large Buck with only one eye picked up the revolver and spun the barrel utter scilenec as peopl tryed to count the clicks. The clicks said how many barrels where inbettwen you and death. It was a big math thing, for peopl with smart minds. First count the barrels, then the clicks, then devide by barrels,finaly you have how many shots befor some one dies. DR was good at this cause he had an unuseually high IQ. The winners split the fortune of the loser, thats the prize. "Who will take the first shot"? asked the large back deer as DR slowly opened his eyes confidentaly. This wat it, it was the soldier and his gun, this is the story of us all. Fighting through bloody pride destroying games of chance just to live our dayliy lives. "I will" said a doe with litebrown fur and big brite eyes. Placeing the barrel to her tempel she pulled the trigger *Click* was the only sound as every one breathed again. She held the gun out and a young deer took it. He had to be only in his eraly teens..his first game against some of the best players to! He swallowed hard and placed the barrel to his head *Click* breath,hand off...DR takes it. I swallow hard,my breath frezzes my throught. *Click* I exhale. The big black deer takes it *Click* and hands it to the doe with the lite brown pelt *Click* She frowns and slowly hands it to the young deer who smiles confidently places the barrel to his head sure he was safe...*BANG*. A sound like no other cracks across the marsh and sends birds scilently to the skys. The young deer falls to the ground as the revolver clatters a few feet away. My body shakes at the look in the dead boys eyes...cold life less. His second voice was frozen tears falling no words comeing as she sobbed over his body. *Sigh* the stag with one eye looked at the sky "Ten forty AM death of Sly". Sly!? He was a booky for some of the worst crimainals on the back streets of the swamp. He was young sixteen. Dead now he had just tryed the game out onece...proabely for publicity. They say guns dont kill us..we kill us. It was a moment like this we remeber who we are..Gamblers, gameplayers, in a war thats never won. Some die just so others can travel through the tunnel of life for a coupel more years..or at least till the next round.