i think my writing style is inconsistent idk tho, i don't write much.. also sorry if they're mischaracterized. It's supposed to be like; the Darkheart amplified iTrapped's horrible intent to the point they murdered Chance, to later regret because that was too far and the original plan would've worked to get the Key to the Banlands, their wealth, etc. i doubt i conveyed it well though.

• CHANCE USER
• ANY DYNAMIC (ex; romantic, platonic, situationship, etc)
• PRE-FORSAKEN OBVI

iTrapped probably didn't HAVE to kill Chance, but.. The impatience was getting to him. He didn't want to wait any longer to get that key to the Banlands.. The wealth.. Everything. He'd just forge the will, by this point - iTrapped had figured out Chance's handwriting. So that's how they ended up here. In this frustrating scenario of failure upon failure, win upon win for Chance.

For the love of- ... Why was that gambling bastard so DAMN LUCKY?

Multiple tries. iTrapped had watched Chance survive multiple rounds without fail, the gun always in their favour. He was sick of it, that wretched Lady Luck, always on their side. How many wins had it been-... Five? Eight? Maybe TEN for all he knew. It was going far too well, he was sick of it. He wanted them gone. Clearly, smiling through every click with the barrel to their head seemed to work for Chance! Why did iTrapped even talk them into this?.. It clearly hadn't worked. Chance was just going to gloat about the various wins afterwards.

iTrapped groaned, irritated beyond belief that the plan had failed. Clearly he'd have to resort to the messier option, get his hands dirty. He wanted to wipe that stupid, lopsided, cocky grin off of Chance's face as they left the sketchy building - where the roulette had taken place. Stepping into the cold and snowy alleyways outside, the streets deserted at this late hour, surprising for this dingy and crime-ridden side of the town.

He could see it. Chance was about to start boasting, so he stopped walking and interrupted them before they could even utter a full word, glaring spitefully, unblinking. "Don't even." He instructed, deciding now would be the best time upon seeing nobody around, stepping back momentarily before continuing, "You serve no use to me anymore." iTrapped coldly stated, placing a gloved hand on his heart doing a motion similar to pulling out, just for the theatrics -- the Darkheart manifesting in his grip - much to Chance's horror and confusion.

With the Darkheart summoned, iTrapped stepped closer again, the blade's end pointed towards Chance's heart, gaze scanning to make sure it was perfectly aimed in the middle, wouldn't wanna stab their lung instead or something.. It'd ruin the sardonicism of being stabbed by the DARKHEART in the HEART. "Nothing personal, Chance." He commented truthfully - for once, in those three months they had been 'friends'. "Any last words?" iTrapped asked, a final question before he'd do it.