“What do you mean there’s no payout?”
I glare at the clerk.
“I’ve bought these for years.
This one’s supposed to be five hundred.”
She shrugs.
“It says to call the number if you win.
So call. Maybe it’s some special ticket.”
Then she disappears into the back.
I mutter a curse under my breath and step outside—
already dialing the number.
The line clicks twice.
A man answers.
“Ticket number.”
I flip over the card.
“623987”
Typing.
“Name?”
“Russell Jankowski.”
“Mr. Jankowski…”
His voice suddenly changes. Warmer. Almost excited.
“You’ve won the grand prize. Congratulations.
A car will arrive at your home at 7 A.M. tomorrow.
You won’t need to pack.
You’ll have the opportunity to earn one billion dollars.”
I stop walking.
“Wait, what does that mea—”
Click.
The line goes dead.
The next morning, I’m awake before my alarm.
Not that I slept much.
One billion dollars.
My job. My apartment. My parents.
They can all go to hell.
At exactly 7 A.M., a black SUV pulls up outside my building.
The rear door opens.
A woman sits inside.
Young. Beautiful. Perfect smile.
She taps the empty seat beside her.
I hesitate. Just for a second.
Then I climb in.
During the ride, the woman explains the rules.
Five lottery winners.
One big game.
A chance at a billion dollars.
Something at a zoo. Or a safari.
Private jet.
A company sponsoring it—one I’ve never heard of.
She keeps talking, but honestly, I stop listening after this:
“All five participants are guaranteed one hundred million dollars.”
She smiles.
“So don’t worry.
No one goes home empty-handed.”
The flight to this zoo—or safari—felt unfortunately short.
Endless food. Endless drinks.
I don’t talk much with the others.
A twitchy junkie.
A guy who looks homeless.
An angry teenage girl.
And one massive, quiet man. Broad shoulders. Thick arms.
Probably my biggest competition for the billion.
When we step off the jet, two open-roof jeeps are waiting.
I have no idea where we are.
Hot air. Dry wind.
The jeeps carry us down a long road.
Grass fields. Trees.
Nothing else.
No buildings. No power lines. Not even another road.
Then finally—
a gate.
Steel fencing stretches into the distance. So far I can’t see where it ends.
A single building waits beyond it.
I assume that’s where we’re headed.
The drivers usher us through the gate.
The second the last of us steps inside—
the gate slams shut behind us.
I turn.
The drivers never came in.
Then a voice crackles overhead.
“Follow the path marked by white lines.
The game will begin upon arrival.”
Silence.
We glance at each other.
The junkie smirks. Shrugs. Starts walking.
The rest of us follow.
Trees. Dirt. Grass. A pond off to the side.
Honestly… it does look like a zoo.
Then I spot crates ahead.
Supplies for the game, maybe.
I pick up my pace.
Reach the first crate—
and hear screaming behind me.
I turn—
and freeze.
A lion has the teenage girl by the leg. Its jaws clamp down.
Crunch.
She screams.
“T-Tiger…”
The homeless man stumbles backward, pointing into the trees.
Then he runs.
A leopard bursts from the brush.
Tackles him to the ground.
More screaming.
I look back at the crate.
A knife inside.
My head snaps toward the building.
A giant glass window overlooks the field.
People behind it.
Suits. Dresses. Watching through binoculars.
Some laughing.
Others drinking.
One woman claps.
I understand now.
What the game really is.
I write weekly bite-sized horror vignettes.
You can find more of my work here, including exclusive expanded endings of my stories → https://rickshorrorflicks.substack.com/
(P.S. This story has a wild plot twist in my expanded complete version!)Discussion about this post
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