Chapter 21: Gear’s Grasp
Bindings Tight – Swell Breaks
By Restrained4U
The pit thrummed, a low hum vibrating through the damp concrete, red lights glinting off the steel fixtures.
Leo took the bag, his hands shook as he drew a black card, white letters stark. “Roll 1 die: rounds sidelined. Each player adds 1 piece of gear, stays on until rounds end. Avoid missed rounds, draw punishment. Roll or rot.” He slapped it down – SIDELINE’S GRIP – breath hitching. That cane fucked me – I’m not chancing more. The red bag’s punishment lingered, phantom stings on his butt searing his memory.
He flicked the die – 3 skittered across the table before settling. “Three,” he rasped, voice cracking as his gut sank. Three rounds sidelined—better than the red bag’s punishment draw. Jaw tight, heat pulsing at his temples, he muttered, “I’ll take the gear over that hell,” head dipping in resignation. Marcus smirked, shaking his head. “No dodging this, wave-boy.