Joff’s hands are dripping with red. The blood keeps pouring and there is no sign of stopping. Every move needs preparation for every step results in searing pain. The hallway before him flips and turns. The light beyond is starting to become blurry. But he could not stop here. Not now when he already had the haul of a lifetime in his hands - a bloodied diamond brooch stolen for a billionaire on a supposed summer vacation. His sources told him the job was an easy one. Easy my ass. The owner was here and he’s got a rifle in his hand. And if he doesn’t get out of here, he’d be on an express trip to the afterlife.
As he pushed through the pain, walking the hallways with blood splattering with every step, Joffrey noticed something strange in the distance. It’s a vending machine. Huh? He chuckled at the thought that someone is so rich that they’d have a vending machine in their house.
Joff let his hand go off the wound. It’s way too big and the thought of getting out of here alive is nothing but a cruel joke. He sighed. If death is the only option, might as well spend it with a cold drink in commemoration. With one bloody dollar, the machine took his money in. He didn’t know what drink he bought. His vision is too blurry but by his hearing, he knew a can had already fallen on the chute.
Joff raised his drink in the air and let the cold bitter fluid flow down his throat. Little did he know, the vending machine is not ordinary. It was an antique found within the deepest chambers of the catacombs of Paris. It is quite strange to think that a vending machine in pristine condition found itself in decrepit ruins. The machine with its strange origins has stranger properties as well. The drinks it sold have unknown brand names and origins. It does not take euros or dollar bills or any sort of monetary denominations in the world… until now.