SHORT STORIES: On the Subject of Chance

“The new gambling site ‘On The Subject Of Chance’, also known as otsoc.net, is taking the world by storm. Innovative games, irresistible deals and more are available on the newly founded website.”
Jack switches the channel. Static for a second or two, then more news. He throws the remote to his side.

“No matter how much they lie about it; it is in a human’s nature to like gambling. So, I decided to lower the risks and give them a better format in which winning is just so much a question of skill as of chance.”

“We’ll see how this whole matter unravels over the next few weeks, but for now, here’s Michael with tomorrow’s weather.”

Jack picks up the remote and switches to the next channel. As he is about to stand up to go grab a bit of pizza from the fridge, he realises that this channel is only static. Weird. He switches to the next one.

“So, Bradley, how did you go about to make otsoc.net so popular? I’m sure the viewers at home would like to know about your success.”
Jack opens the fridge and takes the last bit of pizza out of the fridge. He sits back down with a plate and switches to the next channel. Can’t they talk about something else instead of this stupid gambling site?

“Experts are warning against –”. Channel switch, static. “Now let’s try this out, shall we? Click and –” . Click, static. “And Rooney passes on to Xhaka, and they’re going for it, he’s passing back this is looking good AND –”. Out of all the things that could be on, it’s football and gambling. Typical. Jack turns the TV off and sits in front of his laptop. He opens the lid and goes on YouTube. Every second ad he sees is for otsoc.net… They really have too much money.

After clicking his way through a barrage of ads, Jack eventually gives in. “I guess I could use a bit of money…” Unsure, he slowly moves his mouse over to the search bar and clicks. He types otsoc.net into the search bar and presses enter.”Welcome to On The Subject Of Chance! To welcome you, we’d like to give you a present of 10 dollars, or rather one thousand coins.” As the welcoming message blared out of the stereo, Jack barely twitched. Usually he turns the volume down instantly when it’s too loud, but this time a smile slowly grew on his face. “This shoddy website is what everyone’s on about? You can even edit the games’ source code! Well then, let’s go make some money.” The whole night through, Jack was at it, always winning more money than he put in and never showing any signs of fatigue.

The next morning, I turned off the webcam view, realising that I need to report in to my boss about the current situation to receive my payment. “Subject relatively normal, specialises in basic hacking and lying around on the couch watching TV. Not a threat in any way.” I send the email off to my private server to be forwarded and check my other emails for new jobs. Nothing really special, mostly teens who want to learn how to hack so they can do some small trick once or twice then forget it all again. I send them a list of programs they can use. They never would’ve been more than script kiddies anyway. The newest email, however, catches my eye: “Report on possible misuse of system”. The sender? customers@otsoc.net. That damn gambling site is everywhere, bloody hell.

I read through the email and find that is another report like the last one. “User Jack Dean seems to be unlawfully changing parts of our site for his own profit. We would like a report on him and will pay you handsomely.” That guy again? I caught him red handed, but he isn’t even special. This job pays well though, so I might as well take it. I reply to their email : “The report will come in tomorrow.” I set the webcam feed on again, due to it not fully having disconnected yet and get back to work.

“Once again victims of the gambling site –“ Jack changes the channel. “On the subject of chance? Well on the subject of no chance is more like it, as the average –” Click. Static. “Witnesses report that the suspect was seen –“. Click. Jack gets up and sits in front of his laptop again, this time letting the TV run. “Actor Jack Dean has been reported missing rece-“. Jack changes the channel again. Weird. Isn’t he Jack Dean? Must be someone with the same name, because this guy is much fatter than the actor. Although, CGI does work wonders these days. Probably just a coincidence, I’m thinking too much. “The creator, Bradley Stevens, was unavailable for a comment, but –”. Jack falls asleep in front of his computer.

When he wakes up, the TV is still running. “On the subject of no chance: Bradley Stevens, creator of popular gambling site “On The Subject Of Chance” has been found dead in his apartment this morning. Witnesses have reported seeing Jack Dean, the famous actor, running from the scene of the crime to the eastern edge of Liverpool. Any-” Jack changes the channel and starts frantically packing his things. Breaking Bad turns on. It can’t have been him, he was at home all night! I guess he thinks that no one will believe him… This means he is actually the actor and must’ve just wanted some peace and quiet. In the background, Breaking Bad continues: “This is my own private domicile and I will not be harassed, bitch!”

There’s a loud knock on his door. “POLICE! OPEN THE DOOR!” Jack is smart enough to realise that struggling will only bring him more trouble. He opens the door and the police recognise his face instantly. “Sir, you are under arrest for the murder of Bradley Stevens.” Jack turns around and puts his hands behind his back. The police interpret this as admitting guilt and roughly put the handcuffs on his arms. Breaking Bad goes on in the distance: “You want your warrant? I’ll have my guys bring it out here and deliver it to you on a little satin pillow.” The police take Jack and shove him into the police car and start searching through his house. I turn off the webcam feed and reply to the otsoc email: “Subject arrested for murder of Bradley Stevens. Had hacked into games before to play at a much lower risk.” I shut down my computer and go to sleep.

There’s a knock on my door. I get up slowly. A newly familiar voice calls from behind the door: “GET UP FUCKER!” Jack? What’s going on? I thought he was arrested? I go to open the door with the chain still in, only letting it open a bit. “Yo, what’s going on? Aren’t you that actor dude who was like arrested or something, man?” I ask him, pretending to not know anything. “You’re under arrest for unauthorised entry into a computer, amongst many other crimes, including complicity in the murder of Bradley Stevens.” I’ve been framed! I think about where and how I could escape. All my windows and blinds are closed, opening them would take too much time and attract attention. I unlock the door and submit to the police. Sitting next to Jack in the car I tell him: “I didn’t kill anyone! I’m innocent.” Jack looks at me and says: “Oh, you’re not innocent. Maybe of murder, but not innocent in general.” I look at him, shocked. He continues: “I know what you did in my PC and more. Check and mate, motherfucker.”

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