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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Wario_Guy on 2026-08-03 02:31:20+00:00.

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The middle of the Everglades is the last location you would want a flat tire.

Day 1

“Git up”

I looked up. A man stood before me. He was wearing a dingy undershirt stained with mud, undoubtedly from the swampwater. His jeans looked about half as old as he was. “I said, geet up. Worthless sack o’ sheet.” His accent was as thick as his skull. I slowly rose to my feet. I must’ve been, what, 10, 20 pounds lighter than I was when I stumbled upon this little village.

The man pushed the door to the crude cell I was in. He must’ve let out the other prisonmates earlier. I looked around the cell. All that was in there was hay. Hay and shit. I weakly stumbled out of the door. The man stuck his foot out, which I almost stripped on. I walked past him without saying anything. He kicked my calf and I fell onto one knee. He snickered. I could’ve beaten the man had I been at full strength, even with my handcuffs on, but it had been almost 24 hours since my last meal. Besides, even if I was at full strength, I would not be prepared for the backup that would follow.

The man went past me and walked up the stairs. I trailed slowly behind, climbing the stairs like an animal. I suppose, to them, I was little more than one. The humid air blasted me as soon as I walked out of the tiny shed the basement with the cell was in. It must’ve been 10:00 in the morning, but it felt like 4:00 in the afternoon. The man heavily walked on the mud trail in the middle of the two puddles surrounding it. It flew onto my shins, some specks even reaching up as far as my groin.

At the camp were the other prisoners. I must’ve been the last one grabbed for our daily feeding. In the middle sat a large bowl of gruel. It was about the size of a small table. I hazily walked toward it, but the man held me back. “What’s yer rush? Don’t be greedy! Wait for yer rahvals! Mm.. hehe.” The other prisoners slowly lined up in a circle around the campsite; in the middle was what appeared to be gruel. A skinny man with a gut and a pistol started counting down. “Ready? 3…2…” he shot one of the feet of the man to the right of me. He yelped in pain and fell to the floor. “GO F****TS!” The man started shooting the ground more and more. We rushed toward the center, lacking coordination. Two of the seven rushing toward the center stripped on the way. I was lucky. I had made it second, so I got a good serving of the gruel. I scooped it with my dirty hand. Unfortunately, the man with a bullet in his foot didn’t get any. I felt bad.

Afterward, they lined us up by height. “Ahright! Today’s the day of the Blood Sport games! After three days, one of yew lucky fellers’ll get to leave the village! Only one o’ ya, though.” The skinny man with a gut sized us all up. His name was Lee, or as the people of the village called him, Lazyeye Lee. You could picture why. “Hmmm… ew-kay. CURTIS! SHANE! MAE! Less figger out the games fer today.  Homer, you make ‘em kick rocks or sum’in.” Curtis was a short and stubby man. He looked similar to Homer, but different enough to not be related. Shane wasn’t as lanky as Lee, but he was on the taller side (for the village) and had greenish eyes. Mae looked much older, maybe around her mid 60’s, but she looked rather mean. Homer complained in a childlike voice. He was my keeper. “Awww, you nev’r let me help make the game.” Lee looked up, at Homer again. “Jes shut the fuck up. For once in your damn life, shut the fuck up.” Homer sighed. He started walking away. We followed.

In my cell the previous day, Homer talked to me. “Well mister. I bet yer wonderin’ why yer cooped up in here, and why we don’t jest let you go.” I grimly looked ahead. He had a huge grin on his face. “Yer gunna play in our famous Blood Sport games! They’re tuns o’ fun. An’ ya know what?” He leaned in toward me and whispered. “I think you gotta gooooood shot at winnin’ this thing.” The Blood Sport games. I could only wonder what that meant.

He showed us to an alligator. “Kill that thing, er sumthin.” He sighed, and walked away, not even taking off our handcuffs. The alligator was sleeping, and besides, we had no way to immediately kill it. The man with the bullet in his foot was still in agony. Another one of the prisoners, Barney, waited until he was out of sight. He said, “We could make a run for it,” rather ambitiously. We all stared at him. “Where would we go? We’re in bumfuck nowhere. The only path out of this patch of dirt these people call their home is on the other side of the camp,” I said. He glumly looked down.

We waited. The alligator slept like a stone. A small hispanic woman inched up to me. “Hey. I think you’ve got the best chances of getting out of here.” She looked around. “I’m Aurora. You are…?” I put my hand out. “Isaac. Nice to meet you.” She shook it. “Listen… all I want to do is help my little brother. I’m not sure if I’ll last very long, considering I’m the smallest one here. If I don’t make it… could you find a way to help my little brother get out?” I was a little surprised. “How? What other ways could there be?” She looked down. “I don’t know…” I looked ahead, beyond the trees. “Which one is he?” I asked. She pointed to one of the prisoners, one of the ones I hadn’t noticed. “That’s him. Santiago.” The resemblance was there. However, he couldn't have been older than 14. He was skinny, and his hair was a weird middle part. He looked incredibly frightened, but was holding back tears, most likely for his older sister. “How do you know if he’s gonna make it through these rounds?” She had a grim expression. “I don’t. I talked to some of the other prisoners, and they said some of the same things.” She paused, then sighed. “This is a tall ask. I know it is. But he has so much to live for. If you go against him, would you…?” I thought about it for a second. Was my life more important than that of this random kid I didn’t know?

I didn’t respond. Aurora got up. “It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to.” She started walking away. I grabbed her before she left. “Wait. Let me sit on it.” She let out a weak smile. “For even considering… thank you.”

Some time later, Homer grabbed us, with a bit more excitement in his eyes. “Coooooooome to papa!” He didn’t check if we killed the alligator or not, fortunately. That seemed to be the end of my luck. He led us back to the camp.

The sun was far on the west side. It must’ve been 3 or 4:00 PM at this point. Lee had a huge smile on his face. “Awright everyone! Gather ‘round! Yer gunna play…” He paused. “A good ol’ game o’ roulette!”

After taking off our handcuffs, the gamemasters had us sit in a circle around the area of the campsite where the gruel used to be. An 8 chambered revolver sat in the middle. Oddly enough, there were black burn marks on the handle. Behind us were the residents of the village. Despite the small size of the village and initial crowd, there were lots of people here, some struggling to get a good view. Lee came into the middle. “ALL RIGHT EVERYONE! I’ve loaded this here gun with one bullet. Atta these lucky fellers, four of ‘em are gunna be, well… unlucky! This ain’t any old roulette game, though. We’ve added a twist!”

He loaded a bullet into the chamber, before lighting the revolver on fire, and tossing it to the man who got shot in the foot earlier. He yelped and dropped it to the ground. Curtis knocked him on the head with a shovel. A crack could be heard. At the very least, the man was knocked out. He dragged the man away. Lee stomped on the revolver repeatedly, putting it out. “Damn bastard ruined our game! Oh well. Guess that means less rounds for y’all.”

The audience maintained their excitement. Lee reloaded the gun and lit it on fire. I nervously looked around. He tossed it to Santiago. His hands were trembling, and his mouth was hung right before a scream, but he put it under his head and hit the trigger.

It clicked.

He threw it to the next man, Barney. Barney let out a squeal. He put the barrel next to his head very quickly.

Click.

Barney threw the thing onto me. It landed onto my lap. I resisted the urge to jump up, and grabbed it tenderly. It hurt like a bitch. At that point, I wished for the bullet to come out and end my misery.

Click.

I tossed it to my left. My hands were in a state of shock. Skin was peeling off. It was deep red. I couldn’t get up to put it in the water, not yet at least. Although, who knew if I would get an infection or not. I didn’t even pay attention to the woman next to me. The gun clicked for her. I looked up. She was above average height for a woman, with long, silky and black hair. She passed it to Aurora. She juggled it in her hands, and bit down on her lip, before putting it to her head.

Click.

She passed it to the left, to a very large man, at least four inches taller than me (and I’m 6’1). He was crying a bit, but he stoically lifted it up to his head. It clicked. He tossed it as quickly as possible.

The last one was a short Indian man. He had accepted his fate, despite the chance there was still another slot in the barrel. He barely reacted to the flame, lifting the gun up to his head.

BANG!

The people cheered. Mae hauled off his body this time. Lee loaded three bullets into the chamber this time. His grin said it all. He paused. Two men were making a bet. One pointed at me, the other pointed at Barney. I didn’t have much time to question a bet for a game like this. Lee lit the gun on fire, and tossed it...

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