The neon hum of Las Vegas bled through the blinds, painting the hotel room in sickly pink and green stripes. Empty mini-bottles littered the dresser like the aftermath of a party no one enjoyed, and the couple who had burned through their last dollar were still awake, still circling each other like starving dogs.

“Don’t you dare blame me,” Cara spat, her mascara streaked down both cheeks. “You’re the one who said keep going. You said we’d win it back.”

Paul slammed his fist against the nightstand, rattling the lamp. “We were close! That last roll was a damn fluke. If you’d just let me—”

“Let you what? Lose another ten grand? Another twenty?” Cara lunged across the bed, snatched the stack of casino markers from his hands, and flung them at the wall. The slips fluttered down like dying moths. “It’s gone, Paul. All of it. The house, the savings, everything.”

Silence followed, thick and hot. Outside, slot machines wailed faint digital jingles. Inside, the air conditioner clanked, then gave up, leaving the room heavy with cigarette staleness.

Paul’s breathing grew sharp, uneven. His eyes darted to the duffel bag in the corner—empty now, except for the pistol he swore they’d never need.

Cara saw the look, and her eyes widened. “Oh, you’re thinking it. You’re actually thinking it.”

The argument fractured into shouting, shrill and booming. It was no longer about money; it was about blame, betrayal, who had led them here, who had ruined whom. Every grievance sharpened until it cut.

And then the room went silent again—except for the muffled pop of a gunshot.

When the echoes died, the couple lay twisted together on the grimy bathroom floor, where they had ended their feud. The scuffle in which took laps around the hotel room, later ended there. Blood soaking into the fragments of the bathroom door that lay scattered on the floor after Paul forced his way inside.

For a long moment, the only witness was the neon glow pulsing through the blinds of a window that was for some reason, inside the bathroom. It overlooked something far less glamourous than the plush, upscale hotel and casinos they once enjoyed themselves in. Those days were long gone along with majority of their money, and their pride as well.

Then, as if nothing had happened, the alarm clock on the nightstand blinked to life. 3:00 a.m. sharp.

Paul gasped awake in bed. Cara bolted upright beside him, her chest heaving as if their deadly scene happened seconds ago. The room was spotless, the duffel bag zipped shut in the corner and full of cash, their chips stacked neatly on the dresser. No blood, no bodies.

They turned to each other, wide-eyed, and Cara whispered the only words she could manage.

“We’re alive. I don’t get it, Paul. We already did this.”

Paul rubbed his face, as if peeling away a bad dream. “We, Cara—we were dead. I felt it. I felt the bullet I put in me and I can still hear the bullet I shot in you.”

Cara’s hand trembled against his chest, searching for a wound that wasn’t there. “I heard it. I saw us on the floor.” She shook her head violently, eyes wet and wide. “I’ll never forget the sight of your body hitting the ground- lifeless.”

The alarm clock blinked its green numerals. 3:05 a.m.

For several long minutes, they just stared at each other, too afraid to speak the bizarre truth. Finally, Cara whispered like she had been waiting her whole life for a do-over from this life-long addiction to gambling they both shared.

“Our fate’s been reset.”

Paul pushed off the sheets and stumbled to the dresser. Their chips were stacked neatly, far more than even when they started their bold gambling binge. He scooped them up, weighed them in his palm. “What do you mean, it’s been reset?”

Cara’s brows raised and eyes wide with hope. “We’re getting another chance, Paul. I don’t understand it, but we are.”

Paul’s expression shifted from relief to greed. “You remember the hands. The rolls. Every single one. If it all happens again, exactly the same… then we know what’s coming.”

Cara stared at him, horrified—and tempted.

Before long, they were seated in the casino’s restaurant, menus untouched. The server approached, pen poised, and Cara mouthed the words before the woman even spoke them.

“Coffee. Black. Two eggs over medium.”

Paul grinned, finishing the order. “And he’s about to say, ‘Hash browns or toast?’”

The server blinked, then asked the question verbatim.

Cara laughed, a thin, nervous sound. “This can’t be real.”

But it was. It had all restarted as if just before their downfall. Just after they checked into the shady and rundown motel after being unable to afford their usual luxury suite at The Venetian. They had no more comps there on rooms or food, and so, they found themselves at this late-night greasy spoon. It had the charm of some old “Denny’s.” A place so worn down it should be torn down, along with the trashy table games pits. But, none of that mattered now.

Every phrase, every dice roll, every card flip played out exactly as they remembered.

At first they were cautious, testing the waters with modest bets. A hundred here, twenty-five there—each one hitting exactly as they knew it would. Their disbelief eroded into confidence. Then solid greed.

Roulette wheels spun in their favor, dice tumbled perfect, slot machines rang like church bells. Soon, casino staff found them in high-limit rooms, glasses of champagne thrust into their hands, the kind of treatment reserved for whales.

Paul stacked black chips into towers, his grin manic. “We’re untouchable.”

Cara was already planning the shopping spree. Within hours, she’d raided the boutique wing of the neighboring casino: Gucci bags, Cartier watches, heels that Cara tottered in while clutching an armful of shopping bags. Guests and staff applauded them like celebrities upon her return. They couldn’t believe they had become so popular. Crowds gathered to watch them win.

“See?” Paul said, brandishing his Rolex watch his wife had just gifted him. “We were supposed to win. The first time was just—practice.”

Cara kissed him, desperate and giddy, her lips tasting of champagne. “We beat it. Whatever this is, we beat it.” Her voice echoing into an eerie twilight, but gone before she could realize.

That night, they stood in front of the reception desk, dripping with jewels and expensive clothes, and demanded an upgrade. They wanted something to better suite their lifestyle. That is, if such a place had much of an upgrade.

“Penthouse,” Paul said. “Nothing less.”

Cara interjected, saying that they should stay somewhere nicer, but Paul wasn’t having it. He reminded her that if they did that, they wouldn’t know what happens like they do now. They have to stay where the odds are in their favor.

The receptionist smiled, eyes too dark, too knowing. “Of course, sir. You’ve earned it.”

They laughed all the way up to the top floor, but was surprised to find that the Penthouse was actually very nice. It was bigger than their house and stylish, with all the amenities they could want. But when the door shut behind them after they had toured the last room, the laughter faded swiftly. The mirrors stretched too tall, the shadows too thick.

The room wasn’t just luxury—it was watching them.

And somewhere beyond the gilded bathroom door, something waited.

“I’ll go down and get your new expensive things…and our big stash of money,” Paul said as he dashed out the door. But Cara was soon behind him, something telling her she was in danger. The only problem was that she just couldn’t figure out what kind of danger.

Paul was good at reassuring her that they were safe. His charm was just as she remembered when they fell in love. His eyes were warm and he was happy as can be. Such a change from the trauma that still lingered in her mind from before, when they lost it all.

As their old hotel door opened, she could see that it was just as she left it. Money and all. And Paul loaded up their cash in his suitcase, dumping his clothes on the bed. He grabbed her luggage and all of her shopping bags that he could carry before he left.

“Pack up the rest of your things, babe. I’ll be right back.” Said Paul as he rushed out the door.

Cara giggled and spun around the room, falling onto the bed. She couldn’t believe it all. They won and knew everything that was going to happen that night. It was all too easy…or was it?

She sat up slowly. The room now had that same haunting feel as the penthouse they had just came from. The silence in the room somehow grew louder. Something was telling her to step closer. Closer to where all this ended.

And, as she did.

She couldn’t believe her own eyes. In the bathroom was the gruesome dead bodies of both herself and her husband. The scene appearing just as she remembered, every chilling detail revealed only from a different vantage point. This all left Cara questioning reality, not knowing what to think.

Only to react.

Her screams were deafening. Haunting. Raw.

She bolted out of the room. Initially, without direction, but soon headed toward the deluxe suite to find her husband. She could only imagine him being in the same grave situation as her. And, as she ran down the long hallways, and around every passing corner, she noticed every person looking at her with the same look.

Cold. Evil. With the intent of something.

But what?

As she finally approached their suite and flew open the door, she was met with something she didn’t expect. Once she saw it, she stopped, and tried to turn back only to find herself trapped. What was going on was something planned by powerful people. It was all some kind of game, set up to trick them. The people in the room with her turned from people into demons before her eyes. Their bodies looked born from the bowels of hell. In their clutches was her husband, but he wasn’t one of them. Not yet, but they both soon would be.

“What do you want from us!?” Cara screamed.

Paul stood silent and motionless. What they wanted they had already taken from him.

“Your soul.” Bellowed the demon who appeared to be in charge of them all.

And that’s what it was all about. They really did die and when they respawned as if nothing had happened, that was the beginning of their “Hell’s Play.” Their murder and greed lead to their grim afterlife and sealing the deal was that this jackpot was actually the wager for their souls.

Their “Hell’s Play” made them feel like they were finally winning but in the end, they lost everything. And now, they’re a part of it. Doomed for all eternity to be actors in this evil charade beyond the flaming boarders of hell and into a realm nobody would expect.