#9 was pleading with one of the guards to let him go.
“Come on man, this is stupid! I don’t deserve to be here.”
His protests were met by stony silence
“Listen, I have money. Just give me blanks, bet on me and whatever you make, I’ll double it when I get out.” #9 grinned wildly now, thinking to himself that this was a pretty good plan – not realising that the type of bullets in his gun had no bearing on whether he would live or die tonight.
As he smiled, his thin lips revealed long discoloured teeth from years of smoking. Thin lips and large teeth made his face look predatory, like he was a shark going in for the kill. However he was certainly no predator – he was pleading for his life.