Winner Takes All

Given a single glance, the man blended in with the shadows. You couldn’t see him unless you
really looked. And considering it was the famous Tuesday night, Mardi Gras, no one was sober enough to
stand upright, let alone look hard at anything. He appeared harmless. He was leaning casually against a
brick wall, shuffling a deck of worn cards in gloved hands that were cut to reveal nimble fingers.
A few girls, giggling in a very drunken manner, wandered close to his alley and he called out
sweetly, “Your fortune told, chéri?” [sweetie?] His strong accent revealed him as a Cajun, suave and
smooth. Both girls looked over at him as he tilted his head, his ruffled brown hair falling into his eyes.
Despite the curtain of soft brown hair, and despite the fact he was in shadows, his eyes stood out boldly.
Black pupils, red irises and then black for the rest. They glowed as he smiled, his whole posture one of
relaxation and confidence.
But the girls became sober enough to shake their heads no and hurry on. He sighed a little and
pocketed his cards, muttering softly to himself in mild annoyance, “Chaque fois.” [Every time.] He then
came out of the alleyway, looking smoothly left to right, his thief instincts on full alert. Mardi Gras was
when he always got his best loot, and he was fully planning on eating out in a nice restaurant tonight.
He wandered the crowd and within the span of four minutes, picked up nearly three hundred
dollars, a couple nice watches worth twice that amount, some very pretty rings and three phone numbers.
All in all, a good profit for a first try.

He continued his rounds of the crowd, and by the end of the evening had amassed a small fortune.
As he pocketed the money and glittery things, he smiled. No wonder others had crowned him as ‘The
Prince of Thieves’. He walked down to the river area, intending on some good jumbo when shouts drew
his attention. Curious, and wondering if he could gain any advantage from it, he followed the sounds,
walking silently. He peeked around the edge of a building to find an old woman being harassed by a
ruffian.
He scowled. He knew that kid! He was a newcomer to the Thieves’ Gild and often relied on
strength instead of subtly. He also had a very short temper and plenty of muscle to make up for his lack of
intelligence. Bad traits for a thief.
The Cajun sighed and came forwards, saying gently, “Petit. Ça suffit.” [Little one. That’s
enough.]
The kid spun around, gaping, “Gambit?” He then regripped the woman’s arm, growling, “Back
off! She’s my score.”
Remy could see the poor woman was badly frightened and said soothingly, hoping to cool the
lad’s temper, “She has nothing. Look at her clothes.” He gestured to the rags the old woman was wearing
and then added with a charming smile, “No offence meant, Madame.”
The kid now realized his mistake, but hated having it pointed out to him. So he charged Remy,
growling out something about ‘trying to steal my score’.
Remy sidestepped perfectly and simply stuck out a foot. The kid tripped over it and sprawled
over the ground, spitting out dirt. He got up and charged at Remy once more, and was soundly beaten to a
pulp, learning the hard way that Remy wasn’t just a cloak and cards.
Remy bent down and grabbed the kid’s collar and brought him close, saying softly, “Go. We’ll
discuss this later.” The kid nodded and once released got up, blood streaming from a busted nose and ran
off into the alleys.

Remy watched to make sure he left and then approached the older woman, who had backed up
against a wall. He gently brushed her off, muttering soothingly, “I am sorry about him. He is new and
doesn’t know the main rules. One of which is never attack beggars.”
The woman gently batted his hands away and cleaned herself off, saying calmly, “I’m not a
beggar.”
 Remy smiled, saying, “Well, don’t let him know that, d’accord?” [okay?]
The old woman gave a dry chuckle and then looked up at him, who had already turned to leave
and called out, “Thank you for helping me. This is for you.” Remy turned and saw the woman was
holding out a beautiful ring. The casing seemed to be silver enlaced with gold and a gorgeous purple
stone was fitted snugly into the cradle. It was very slim and very attractive.
Though Remy was tempted, he smiled and felt his thick pockets anew, saying, “Non merci,
Madame.” [No thank you, Madame.]
But the lady waddled up to him and pressed the ring into his palm and closed his fingers on it,
saying earnestly, “I insist!” Remy smiled and opened his hand to take a better look at it. It really was a
work of art. He wondered if this lady was a thief as well to have stolen such a fine bit of jewelry. Before
the old woman wandered off, she told him, “Use it as you wish.” Then she disappeared into an alley.
Remy stared after her. ‘Use it as you wish’? What on earth did that mean? He shrugged and
cocking his head, slipped the ring onto his right index finger. The ring was very thin and not easily
noticeable and he liked it there so he decided to keep it instead of selling it, as was the planned fate for the
rest of the gold and silver items in his pocket.
He shrugged. You tended to get all sorts down in New Orleans. He then straightened his cloak
and went on his way to the restaurant, licking his lips at the thought of piping hot seafood gumbo.

That night, Remy entered his plush hotel room, sighing happily as he took off his cloak, hanging
it gently behind the door. What a day. After paying a visit to an old friend who just so happened to have
certain ‘connections’, Remy had pocketed over a thousand dollars in addition to the cash he had already
collected that night. He was practically set for a whole year!
He smiled as he took a nice long shower, washing dirt and grime from a body too used to
sleeping in the streets. Soon, dry and clean, he flopped down into the bed, snuggling deeply in the sheets.
Oh, this was the good life!
He smiled, and playfully charged the sheets, feeling the warm glow all around him. He waited for
a second and then withdrew the charge back inside him, leaving the sheets nice and toasty. He sighed
happily as he burrowed deeply and fell asleep.

The next morning, Remy woke nice and late in the afternoon, sheets tangled about him
haphazardly. He groaned as he forced himself awake, stretching and yawning hugely. He stumbled out of
bed and into the bathroom, still yawning.
What time was it? Who cared!
He shed his boxers and got into the shower, sighing as hot clean water cascaded down over him.
He washed himself and then after dressing in the robe provided in the bathroom, called down for his
clothes to be washed and for breakfast to be sent up.
As he ate, he watched the news. He frowned as a report came on of teenage mutants in some
Northern city called Bayville. They were wreaking the place and making a big mess. Remy munched on
his toast, thinking that kids like this were the reason mutants had it so bad.
He shut the TV off and lay back on his bed, thinking. He had to go to the mansion near the
lakeside soon. He wasn’t very fond of the owner, mainly because he had put many hard-working thieves
in jail, and felt it was his duty to knock him down a few pegs. But from what others had told him, mostly
from behind prison bars, the place was a fortress. The cameras, instead of being the normal video ones,
were heat sensitive. Anything bigger than a cat would be shot at and killed, no questions asked.
Remy sighed a little. There had never been a place he couldn’t crack but this nut seemed to be
steel-enforced.
 A week later found Remy perched safely in a tree, watching the mansion. It was indeed heavily
guarded. He saw several guards walking the grounds with vicious-looking dogs in tow. The Cajun knew
that while he could seduce both the dog and the guard into ease, that took time and there were enough
guards that they were never out of sight of each other. The fence itself was charged with a gracious
amount of electricity and he could see little wires running all over the meadow up to the house that both
dogs and guards were careful to avoid. He was tempted to charge something and chuck it at the fence, but
figured it would only bring even more guards.
But Remy sighed, and secured his cloak tighter around him. He’d never backed down before and
he wasn’t about to tarnish his record.
He’d do it.

Jumping over the fence had been nothing, and avoiding the wires were easy since he could sense
the energy flowing through them. The only problem was that he was forced to stay close to the wall and
that was getting him nowhere fast. He growled in annoyance as he ducked behind a bush, mindful of the
wire running right between his feet. Two guards came near, talking. Remy was downwind, so the dogs
did nothing but look dangerous; one sniffing at the ground, the other sitting and panting.
Remy picked up a pebble and chucked it into a bush a distance away, but only one guard went to
investigate it. The other stayed were he was, smoking a cigarette. Remy growled softly, wishing the man
wouldn’t be so much of a problem.
Suddenly though, the man vanished. Remy blinked. The dog, seeing itself free, immediately
trotted back to the mansion, thinking his shift was over and was going to get his dinner. Remy remained
where he was, careful of the other guard and stared.
What had happened to the man? Did they have mutants as guards now? Ones that could turn
invisible?
But then Remy saw movement in the grasses. He thought it was a mouse at first, but then realized
that the dog would have found it. Careful of the other guard, Remy snuck out of his bush, grabbed the tiny
creature and retreated inside his leafy cover. He sat down, careful again of the wire, and opened his palm.

It was the guard! He was barely conscious and was crawling around like he was dead drunk.
Remy stared, both surprised and amused. How had this happened? Remy then looked down at the ring he
had gotten and saw that the stone was glowing slightly. It then faded and Remy realized the true nature of
the ring.
He wondered if it worked backwards. He shut his eyes and realized that if he so wished, he could
put the man back to normal size. But as he watched the guard fall over and lay on his side panting, Remy
smiled, the possibilities whirling in his head. Just think! No more having to bribe people or knock them
out, hoping they’d forget him. It was perfect! He could get away with anything now! Even murder!
He smiled widely, his red eyes glittering.

Five minutes later had him strolling comfortably into the compound, his deep pocket full of
unconscious guards. He’d deal with them later. Right now, he was faced with a bigger problem; lasers.
And lots of them. The problem was that this time they were too close together for him to sneak through.
He stood at the door, feeling slightly frustrated. He felt a slight kick from his pocket and found
himself wishing that the ring worked on him too. Then he could just walk under the lasers! He got out a
card, intending to blast the apparatus, despite the fact it would trigger the alarm when he suddenly felt
very dizzy. He put out a hand to lean against the doorframe, but couldn’t find it and unwillingly fell to his
knees. He instantly winced, expecting to hear the alarm going off shrilly. He had fallen right onto the
lasers! But when he looked up, he saw that the lasers were about ten feet away from him. What on earth?
 He saw something next to him and getting up, realized it was his card he had held only a minute
before. It was as big as he was! Remy stared and quietly calculated that he was now only three inches
high. He checked his pockets and found the guards, still tiny in proportion to him. He looked down at his
ring again and saw the fading purple glow.
The Cajun smiled.

While the lasers (he walked right under them), weight-sensitive panels (they couldn’t even feel
him) and cameras (he was too small to register) proved to be no problem, Remy was just annoyed at one
thing; because he was so small, this was taking a long time!
But soon enough he got to the Duke’s bedroom. Remy squeezed himself under the door and
looked around. He saw a desk-lamp and climbed up the cord onto the desk, careful not to draw too much
attention to himself. But then he smiled at his foolishness. No one would see him!
He straightened up from his crouch and walked around the desk, trying to find what he wanted.
There! A brooch! It was about six normal inches in height, and four wide. It was made of solid sterling
silver and looked like fox, paws up, ready to fight. Remy stroked the smooth surface gently, noticing
things he normally would need a gem-microscope to see. The eyes of the fox were tiny little sapphires,
the nose was a tiny little bit of pure onyx. The bushy tail was lined with gold trimming and the pelt had
been painstakingly engraved to look like actual fur.
Remy whistled softy. Something like this was worth a fortune, quite literally. He then realized a
problem. The brooch was twice as big as he was tall and probably weighted a lot more. How could he get
it out of here? But then he smiled and put his hand on it. If he could shrink the guards, then why not… He
looked up at feeling something in his hand. He looked and smiled very broadly. The brooch, now about
six inches to him, was lying innocently in his palm.
Remy pocketed the trinket, eyes looking around the desk for anything else of value. There were a
few more brooches that weren’t worth nearly as much, but he took them anyway. He didn’t like this
Duke, after all! After half an hour, Remy deemed himself satisfied and began the long journey back to the
door. Once outside, he focused and found himself at full height again. He checked his pockets and found
the precious brooches, and also the tiny sleeping guards. Remy walked out of the compound, picking up
his card. As he walked out, he left his calling card; an ace of hearts stuck in the door of the guardhouse.
As he left, he released the charge and heard a satisfying ‘boom’ behind him.

Remy went to a hotel, rented a nice room with a little of the Mardi Gras cash he carried on him
(the rest was safely hidden away) and hung up his cloak, sighing as he collapsed on the bed. Talk about a
score! He called up his friend using a false number and was guaranteed an excellent price for the brooch.
Because such a large amount was suspicious, even in the thieving world, Remy would be given several
less-valuable brooches, but their total worth would equal the fox-brooch, and thus Remy could cash them
in whenever he would need the cash and not raise any questions. That’s how it usually worked.
Remy thanked his friend, hung up and as was habit for him now, took a nice long shower, dressed
in the robe, called room service to get his clothes washed and then have dinner brought up. But as he
checked his pockets, removing the beautiful, yet incriminating, pieces of jewelry, he felt something soft
and warm at his fingertips.
He withdrew his hand in surprise, having forgotten about his ‘passengers’. He then took his cloak
into the bathroom, plugged the tub and emptied out his pocket. He hadn’t counted before and found that
he had carried a dozen guards out of the compound. He watched them as they slept, curious. He heard a
knock on his door and went and gave his clothes and his order for dinner.
When he was alone again, he went back into the bathroom and just sat on the edge of tub,
watching.
 The rule for thieving was ‘no evidence left behind’. Well, he’d left no evidence at the mansion,
but the tiny men in the tub were a bit of a liability. From their uniforms, it was clear they couldn’t be
bribed and if he resized them and released them, they might recognize him later. He couldn’t take that
chance. But how to get rid of them? That was the problem. Remy wasn’t exactly relishing the idea of
killing the men, but he’d done it before in self-defense.
But how? Looking at them, he realized that he could crack them in half like a pencil, but then
he’d have a tiny body to explain. Even if he chucked it into the swamps, some beggar would find it and
raise questions. If an animal ate them, though, then he’d be set. No evidence left behind.
But looking at the number of men, he was at a loss. Even if he did release them all into the
swamp, it was a matter of logic that a few would survive the gators and snakes and might even find their
way back to civilization. Remy’s stomach growled and he wished the dinner would come up soon. He
was absolutely starving! But then looked down at the men in the tub with different eyes. What if…?
Could he?
The idea of eating the guards wasn’t repulsive to him. Hell, he’d eaten weirder things before.
Once, when he was being hunted in the swamps, he’d survived on a diet of frogs and snakes for two
weeks. But men? He gently picked up one of the men, and looked him over. Then, just to check, he put
the body into his mouth. Yes, the man fit. Remy moved him a little bit and realized that if he wanted, he
could probably just gulp the man down like an oyster.
Remy smiled a little, ideas beginning to bloom in his mind. Just think. With this new power, he’d
get a new title: ‘The King of Thieves’. He’d be the best thief in the world! No evidence ever left behind.
But then he was drawn out of his daydream by a slight kick in his mouth. He froze, considering for a split
second to spit the man out, but then smiled and opening his mouth slightly, waited to see the man’s
reaction. It came in the form of the small body freezing, a shrill cry and then desperate scrabbling against
his tongue.
Remy shut his mouth, sighing. Wow. That felt nice! He then made up his mind and skillfully
positioned the man to have his little head near the back of his mouth. Remy tilted his head and swallowed
hard and felt the guard slide down surprisingly easily. Remy smiled blissfully as he felt the warm body
move deep inside him, and decided that the man’s squirms made it all worthwhile. The fact that the man
was clothed made for slight discomfort, but he couldn’t have little uniforms hanging around.
When the man had been forced down into the Cajun’s stomach, Remy immediately leaned
forwards, intending on grabbing another, but then went stiff, red eyes wide. He could feel movement
inside his belly and it was a very odd sensation. It was like a having a tiny cat pawing at him from the
inside. It felt nice and brought a broad smile to his face.

Remy leaned back, one hand rubbing at his stomach as he hummed softly. Soon however, the
sensation faded and Remy realized that he had to take care of the bones. He concentrated, and charged the
tiny little bits of calcium and then with a careful sigh, released the charge. He felt the explosion inside
him, a very, very slight one, and knew the bones had been blasted into teeny, tiny, easily-digestible
pieces. He had done this before, but mostly for destroying evidence.
Once, a friend of his had begged him to help him get rid of a ring that would land him the death
sentence. Remy had taken it, smiling and planning on exploding it later in a not-so-public place. But then
a few policemen had come up and following practice, Remy had swiftly popped it into his mouth and
swallowed. But the police, used to dealing with thieves, had taken them both in and given them drinks,
planning on making them vomit and thus catching them red-handed. Remy wasn’t worried; just nervous.
But then he had carefully exploded the little ring inside him, feeling it but hiding what he had done by
calmly drinking the salty concoction. Sure enough, they both soon became sick, but the police only got
some semi-digested gumbo for their troubles. Since no evidence was found, they were both released,
though grudgingly. Remy had winked when his friend had asked him how he had done it, replied that a
magician never reveals his secretes.
 Remy smiled in the bathroom, licking his lips. The man’s faint aftertaste reminded him of gumbo
and that just made him even hungrier. Remy then grabbed another and woke him up before popping him
into his mouth and swallowing. He once again experienced wonderful pleasure as the man squirmed in
primal desperation from inside him. This one lasted a little longer, but soon faded out as well. Remy took
the time to charge and explode the tiny bones, humming softly as he licked his lips.
Just then there was a knock on the door and Remy got up and answered it, smiling as his dinner
was wheeled in. He tipped the man with a ten and then locked his door. He took off the cover and sighed,
licking his lips. Crawdads, fish and seasoned rice. Wonderful!
He then grinned and going back into the bathroom, grabbed two more men and put them on the
tray, waiting impatiently for them to wake up. He liked them better awake. While he waited, he cut up the
catfish and mixed it with the rice, enjoying his meal. Impatient now, he turned the cover upside down,
forming a decent bowl and put the two men inside it. He then went back into the bathroom and doing a
few trips, transferred the remaining 8 men to the bowl.
Now he ate slowly, waiting for the men to wake, quivering in anticipation.

The first one to wake was instantly grabbed and shoved into the Cajun’s eager mouth. He toyed
with him just a little, to wake him up fully, and then gulped him down quickly. The next one however, he
took his time with. Remy pinched the back of the man’s uniform and smiled at him, revealing his perfect
teeth.
The guard opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Remy guessed that the man’s vocal
cords were now too small to make any sound at all. He winked at him, and the man stared at his red eyes,
awestruck. The Cajun stared back, gently hypnotizing him, and while the man was still deeply enthralled
with trust for the giant before him, Remy swallowed him. Having one go down willingly was a nice
difference from struggling violently, but then again, he liked the struggling!
He counted eight left and then picked up one, dropping him into his plate. The man woke at
feeling the hot rice under him but only had about four seconds to appreciate it before Remy used his
spoon to scoop up the man and a good portion of rice. He held the spoon before his face, smiling
charmingly at the man before swiftly putting him into his mouth. He then chewed hard and fast, before
the man knew what was going on, and heard the bones break and snap from inside his mouth. They were
really brittle and he chewed a long time before he couldn’t feel any more of them breaking. Then he
swallowed, sighing in pleasure. Remy ate a little more fish and rice before he interested himself in his
little preys again. He plucked one out and looked at him. This one was awake and asked him, “What’s
going on?”
Remy smiled and replied smoothly, “Mon dîne, bien sur!” [My dinner, of course!]
The man stared, lost deep in the red eyes, and murmured softly, “Dinner? Of course. How silly of
me.” Remy made short work of him, finding his confused squirming a very nice addition to his dinner.
Remy saw that he had already eaten half the guards, but instead of going for the rest, finished the
rest of his dinner, planning to keep the men for later.

He stayed at the hotel for a few days before going back out on the street. He was down to one
little guard, who he kept in his pocket, teasing him by patting the cloth every now and then. This one had
seen the consumption of his fellows and had no illusions as to what would finally happen to him. This
was his last one, and Remy wanted to play with him as much as he could before finally satisfying his
hunger. Every time the Cajun would take him out, he’d plead like crazy and Remy would torment him by
just holding him in his mouth while playing solitaire or something, smiling as he felt the kicks and
scrabbles against his tongue. Often, he would hum songs to himself, vibrating the body in his mouth,
chuckling as the guard would retaliate with useless kicks and punches.
 Finally, it was his last night at the hotel. Remy didn’t order dinner that night, hinting loudly that
he didn’t need it. The guard, stranded on the huge tabletop, shook, pleading weakly. But the Cajun
ignored him and pulling up a chair, lounged back on it comfortably, legs sprawled under the table. The
Cajun then held up his deck of cards, and said, “Listen up, petit. [little one] I’m going to pull a card out of
this deck. If it’s black, I’ll let you go.” The man’s hope rose. Remy then smiled as he continued, “But if
it’s red, I get to have dinner. Compris?” [Understand?]
The man nodded, quivering with both excitement and dread. His life depended on a single card
out of 52. Remy smiled and shuffled the deck, smiling widely. He then put the deck facedown on the
table and with practiced ease, spread them out into a smooth arch. Remy hovered his fingers over the
cards, making little twitching motions that had the man sweating. Remy then grinned and put his finger
down on a card and drew it towards him. He then lifted up so only he could see it and his expression was
unreadable.
The man, unable to endure it anymore, begged, “What? What color is it?”
Remy looked at him, red eyes practically glowing as he turned the card around, revealing a 5 of
hearts. The man’s face plummeted as a grin slid over the Cajun’s face like wet silk. Remy shrugged and
said innocently, “Gagné.” [I win.]

The man fell to his knees, begging as Remy smiled and placed the card face-up on the table,
under the arch. He then grabbed the man and winked at him, saying, “I forgot to tell you. I’m an expert
gambler. I never lose.” This made the man squall horribly, but Remy quickly muffled it by putting the
small body into his mouth. He played with him for a long time, savoring the feelings his little prey gave
him. He then considered how to eat this one.
Part of him said whole. He wanted to feel those delightful squirms inside him. He wanted to feel
his guard scrabbling for futile escape, trapped deep inside his body. He wanted to be able to lean back and
rest his hand on his stomach and feel the guard’s motions under his palm.
But another part of him said to chew. He loved the way blood tasted and plus, it ensured he didn’t
get stomachaches. Digesting unchewed food was tough on anyone’s inner systems. Plus if he chewed
now, he wouldn’t have to do the exploding of the tiny bones later on.
Remy walked the line between the two, seeing the pros and cons, all the while toying with the
tiny guard on his tongue.
Finally though, Remy picked and crunched down hard, hearing snapping and screaming. He then
waited, feeling the weak squirms in his mouth, tasting the rich blood as it puddled under his tongue.
Remy opened his mouth a little, allowing his prey air, and felt warm blood trickle down his lips and chin,
mixing with his goatee. He smiled and instead of licking himself clean, tilted his head back, literally
drinking in the taste of the blood. Remy chewed once again, and more blood flowed into his throat, and
he swallowed it down, sighing happily afterwards. He felt his prey weakening fast and chewed hard,
pulling as much blood out of the tiny body as he could. He felt thrashing against the inside of his mouth
and chuckled. He was drowning the guard in his own blood. But soon enough, the struggles faded to
nothing. Remy chewed until all the bones were pulverized and then swallowed the leftovers. He smiled at
the card on the table and gathered up his cards. He’d have to do this again.
As he checked out, he thought to himself that next time he’d have to get more. He smiled broadly,
revealing bloody eyes and teeth to the night.

FIN