Requiem for a Mouse Read Online Free Page A

forced. John glanced at his friends behind him and then at the crowd around him. “Fine.”
    “Good.” Prince leaned back in his chair to steady his trembling leg. The floor creaked under him in complaint.
    Suddenly, John stabbed his knife deep into the polished table. Prince jumped and fell backwards. He shot his legs up and caught the bottom of the table, stopping his descent. A sharp yelp escaped his lips, betraying his fear.
    What Prince lost in confidence, John gained.
    “I don’t care if The Dragon owns this bar. Cheat again and this knife is going straight up your ass,” John said. He plucked the knife out and placed it on the table. “Dmitri, Owen, set the chessboard back up for us.”
    Dmitri and Owen separated from the crowd to do so.
    “So the usual bet?” Prince’s voice came out unintentionally weak.
    “Tenfold that.”
    Both knew that Prince couldn’t afford that gamble. Prince opened his mouth to refuse but before he could, he saw John’s smile. It was the smile of man used to the world submitting to him.
    “I’ll go first.”
    For the first time since he had beaten John, a genuine smile spread across his mouth. Without a moment’s hesitation, he advanced the pawn in front of his queen. If he was good at anything, it was this.
    If John was at all nervous, it didn’t show. He rubbed his chin with two fingers and moved his bishop across the board, jumping over his line of pawns. “Check.”
    Prince half expected him to take it back with a crude joke, but nothing happened. “Are we making up our own rules now?”
    “You cheated last time, so I’m cheating this time.”
    “I didn’t—” Prince stopped. Reason held no power against this man.
    Prince hadn’t considered the scenario that John would never admit defeat. He eyed John’s knife. Winning was probably more dangerous than losing. There was only one thing left to do. He stood and lunged forward, swinging a small fist into John’s face. The blow connected and bounced off.
    John buried his fist into Prince’s stomach. Prince stumbled backwards and with a croak, purged himself of his lunch. He grabbed the table to steady himself but only ended up tipping it over as he collapsed. Everything on the table spilled to the floor. The chessboard, the chess pieces, and John’s knife.
    “What did you expect would happen?” John sounded amused. “I’m bigger and stronger. No matter how many tricks you have up your sleeves, I’ll always come out on top. That’s life.”
    The words were faint, even the cheering of the crowd sounded muffled. With quivering arms, Prince crawled forward until he laid on top of the knife. He met John’s eyes for a second before he lurched over to dry heave.
    “Beg,” John said, crouched in front of Prince.
    A quick scan around confirmed what Prince already figured. The crowd smiled eagerly. People pushed and pulled each other to get a closer view. These pathetic adults wouldn’t help him.
    Prince pushed himself onto his knees. He brought his head down until it touched the vomit on the floor.
    “That’s right. Do it proper now with your head to the floor,” John said.
    “Fuck you,” Prince yelled, still out of breath. He never intended to beg. In this position, nobody could see him tuck the knife into his shorts.
    “You have a death wish kid?”
    Prince ignored him. “My turn,” he said, looking at the chess board.
    John shook his head. “Fine, Owen, Dmitri, set it back up, just like how it was before.”
     
    Even the smallest movements sent waves of nausea through Prince. He clamped a hand over his mouth and took great care not to move too fast. By the time he sat back down, the chessboard had already been set up.
    “The offer still stands, beg for mercy.”
    Prince had no sharp retort to give. Even if he did, saying it would cost too much energy. He moved his knight to block John’s bishop.
    “These pawns remind me of you.” John jumped his rook in front of his pawns. “They were made to be