"Let go of me!"

A man who appeared to be in his early fifties flailed about as two built men dressed in all black escorted him forcefully out of the door of the local bar. It was a well known bar to gamblers as it was the only place they could gamble illegally outside regulated gambling zones in the city. It was the only one in the town and there wasn't another one for miles. The bar was a hotspot for people who needed a place to get away from the stress of daily life involving family and work. Gambling washed away the stress and replaced it with debt. That debt would continue to grow as the thirst to gamble and win more took over. It was like an addiction and that addiction would lead to the end of many gamblers.

This man was just like all the others.

He was an addict that had lost to his addiction.

"Let go!" The man growled as the two men continued to drag him from the bar and out into the alley way nearby. He struggled against their strong grasp, but no matter how hard he struggled to be set free, it was of no use. He was drunk and already weak due to aging. There was no way a fifty year old man could break away from two men in the prime of their youths. When they finally released him, he landed with a plop on the dirty ground. The grime and filth that coated the alley ground soaked into his clothes and got underneath his finger nails.

The two men snickered as they wiped the dirt from their hands and stared down upon him in disgust.

"You can't treat me like this!" The man objected as he pulled himself back onto his feet. "I'm a customer here! How would your boss like to hear that this is how his valued customers are treated, huh?"

"Our boss doesn't care how we treat the customers as long we get the job done and he makes money." The taller one stated firmly before motioning towards the exit of the alley way. "If you don't have money to drink or gamble, you aren't a customer. Come back when you actually have something of value besides the clothes you wear on your shoulders."

They slammed the door shut and locked it behind them before the man could even run to them. He pounded his fists against the door, shouting and screaming at them to open up and let him in. He pounded on the door until his hands were red and aching from repeated abuse. He growled and cursed at them, proclaiming that he would barter off his own soul if he had to in order to earn some money to pay the bills.

This was a result of greed.

Pure greed had led him to gamble away his life savings and any money he made with his paychecks. His wife had left him, taking with her the car and their two kids. They couldn't stand his addiction any longer, especially after he sold his wedding rings and pawned the children's toys to earn pocket money to gamble with. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't rid himself of his greed. The more he won, the more he wanted to play. But then it got to the point where he stopped winning and only lost more and more money. He did try to stop gambling. He tried to break his addiction. Honestly, he did try to stop. He missed his wife and his children, but there was no way he could face him being the loser he was now.

He tried to go to help groups and even stayed away from the bar for a good month, before he found himself wandering back. No matter how hard he tried, his greed came back and he could never leave the tables until he was all out of money to gamble with. But this time around, his greed was worse. It was hitting him with full force. He needed to gamble. He needed the money to pay the bills or else his water and electricity would be shut off. Soon he would be homeless if he was unable to pay the rent for this month.

He needed money urgently, and he was looking for every means possible to obtain it.

He could feel his greed for money growing rapidly. He needed to get money and quick.

Placing a hand over the bulge in his pocket, he fled from the alley way and made his way to the nearest gas station that was still open. He ran as fast as his feet could carry him and panted as he arrived outside the glass doors. He zipped his jacket up, covering the lower half of his face as much as he could before barging through the doors. He pulled a gun from his pocket and held it up to the lone cashier behind the register. The boy jolted, immediately reacting and holding up his hands in surrender.

"P-Please don't hurt me." The boy begged, shaking from top to bottom.

"Give me all of your cash!" The man shook the gun and wrapped his fingers around the trigger. "Give it to me now! I don't want to hurt you, kid!"

"Okay."

The boy fumbled for the keys to the register. His hands shook as he attempted to insert the brass object into the small hole. He could sense that the man was irritated and frustrated with how slow he was with opening the cash drawer, but he couldn't calm himself down fast enough to get his body to oblige with him. After a few failed attempts, the man became unsettled and marched around, motioning him away from the drawer with the gun. He snatched up the keys, muttering about how he would take care of it. He opened the cash drawer quickly and pocketed the cash into his jacket.

He was only seconds away from getting the money he needed. Only a few more handfuls and he could leave without getting caught. His eyes twinkled at the sight of the bills and coins waiting to be taken and spent. His hands kept moving, shuffling and piling the bills into messy stacks before shoving them into his pocket. He was so hypnotized by his greed that he didn't hear the sound of a gun loading. He didn't hear the man in the background ordering him to stop. All he could hear was the sound of money rubbing against each other. He didn't even realize the gun aimed at him had been fired until he felt a sharp pain and heard a loud thud.

"What the hell?!" The man shouted as he moved to aim his gun at the man that had shot him. Only when he moved to pull the trigger did he realize that the gun was no longer in his hand, but on the ground. His eyes trailed to the floor where his eyes settled on the bleeding body lying face down on the floor. It took moments before he realized that the body belonged to him.

His eyes widened as he watched the other two people quickly dial for the police. He cried out to them, shouted and pleaded for them to listen to him, but they couldn't hear him. They couldn't see him. It was far too late for them to hear his outcry and pleas for help. The man was at a loss. He knelt down besides his body and tried to touch himself, but his hand only faded through.

"Am I dead?" He muttered quietlly.

"To answer your question, yes, you are dead."

A voice startled him and he looked up to see a blonde haired boy dressed in all bla