Hi, everybody. My name is Sid, and I’m an addict.
It took me a long time to accept that. But when you take a job in a casino just so that you can be there all the time and try to gain an edge, you’re an addict. It’s obvious even to me. More so to my family and friends, who I barely see anymore.
It’s not pills or coke, booze or heroin that I’m hooked on. I’m addicted to gambling.
The casino that made me so obsessed is not an ordinary one, though. It’s far from ordinary.
You don’t play for money at Fantasy Casino. You play for your dreams.
I hear you laughing.
But have you ever had a really, really great dream? One that got so good you snapped awake the second it started to get really excellent?
Well, imagine that times a thousand. Times a million.
A dream so real and so perfect that all of your fantasies become reality. Time stretches out. You feel like you are there forever. A lifetime passes before your return.
Infinite wealth, the ability to fly like superman, you’re surrounded by sex and beautiful people all day as you relax in a palace built to your mind’s most exacting specifications of perfection.
But then you wake up, and in an instant it is gone.
The power, the wealth, the endless sex and supernatural powers.
Everything is suddenly NORMAL again.
And so you go back to the casino.
I went back to the casino.
But the problem with gambling is that you don’t always win. And when you lose, suddenly the winnings are gone as well, vanished without a trace. All I knew was that I had to have that feeling again.
So I went inside the giant building and then followed the secret signs which led to a door that led to a staircase going downwards.
I went down the stairs and knocked on the door marked “Private” and waited for an answer.
“Password.”
The voice on the other side of the black door waited for my response.
“Seramth Gin.” I said the unnatural words carefully and deliberately, still not knowing their meaning.
A friend had told me the password, a fellow gambler who I would later find dead in his apartment. His corpse white, bloated, and maggot-infested.
His eyes were black and filled with blood which streamed from his eye sockets like tears. He had bit his tongue clean off and his fingernails were found lodged in various surfaces throughout his apartment. Like he had been trying to claw his way out of a steel box that only he could see.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. That was later. At this point I was still hopeful for another wonderful dream. Still thankful for his advice to seek out the place.
The door opened and I walked inside. It was the same as it had been the day before, only less busy at this time – still early afternoon.
I approached the table I had been sitting at the night before.
Poker – Texas Hold ‘em: Ten dream limit – the sign read.
The rules were simple. You got a stack of chips. If you doubled them, you received a dream. If you lost them, you lost a dream.
I wasn’t concerned about losing dreams yet, I still didn’t understand exactly what that meant.
When I lost my first stack of chips, I quickly bought in again. And again. And again.
Pretty soon I realized I had lost eight dreams with no winnings whatsoever. I was in a slump. A losing streak.
I decided to go home and count my losses. Literally, since I had no idea what that even meant.
As I got up to leave the table, the dealer looked at me. His eyes were remorseless and cold.
“See the cashier on your way out,” he said, handing me eight black chips.
I gulped and walked over to the glass window where the cashier sat waiting. Handing him the eight chips, he raised his eyebrows and clicked his tongue.
“That’s a shame. Hold out your hand please.”
Two men in black suits came up behind me suddenly and stood on either side of me, intimidating in their stature and demeanour.
I did as he asked and held out my hand with the palm facing up.
The cashier pulled out a strange-looking device from beneath the counter. It had a vial of vermillion-coloured liquid at the top that was attached to the rest of it which resembled a gun with a hypodermic needle at the end.
I screamed and tried to pull away, but the two men grabbed me and held my arm through the window. Thrashing and elbowing them, I tried to get away but it was useless.
The cashier injected the stuff into my veins quickly and it felt cold and slimy going through my system. I could feel it suddenly in my heart, turning it cold and then up into my mind and my lungs and all extremities causing me to shake and violently seize. I writhed on the floor, blood pouring from my ears and my eyes.
Finally the feeling settled down into a numbness that prickled the insides of my blood vessels. It wasn’t until later, once I realized what the casino really was, that I found out what they had done.
I went home with the certainty that they had injected me with something. If winning had resulted in the greatest dream I had ever had – essentially an almost never-ending fantasy – what would happen after a loss?
Nightmares. That was what it would be. I was sure of it.
I settled into bed that night and closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep quickly after such an emotionally exhausting afternoon.
As soon as my eyes closed, they opened again and it was morning.
It felt as if I had not slept at all. My mind was fuzzy and it was difficult to focus. My eyes wanted to close again but my alarm was telling me that it was time to get up for work, so I hit the “dismiss” button and hopped in the shower.
I threw on my clothes and went out the door. At work I noticed a few people looking at me strangely, but I didn’t realize until someone pointed it out to me that my shirt was on inside-out. At this point I was still working in an office doing commodities trading and such lapses were frowned upon.
If you couldn’t focus enough to put your shirt on properly in the morning, how could you focus enough to get the work done in such a demanding environment? Millions of dollars changing hands with each transaction meant that such trivial things were put under a magnifying glass and coupled with other subsequent mistakes each following day after that, I found myself in the boss’s office by the end of the week being handed my walking papers.
Desperate for rest after days of not feeling any benefit from sleep, I went back to the casino.
They knew just by looking at me how to dig their claws in further. After a couple hours I had managed to win myself a dream.
They handed me the complimentary cocktail as they had the time before. I hadn’t realized the significance of it and still didn’t, despite the unusual vermillion colour of the drink. I swallowed it in one gulp and went out the door practically dancing and clicking my heels, ready to go home and feel rested again.
My dream that night was wonderful. Everything I had hoped for in many ways.
But not as good as the first time. I wanted that feeling back again.
Knowing that it was a dream the whole time and realizing that it was going to end seemed to shorten the fantasy, made it seem hollow and manufactured.
If I could win again maybe it would be like that first time, I thought.
The casino drew me in again and again. I found myself a zombie most days, exhausted, at my wit’s end. Ready to call it quits for good and say goodbye.
But then I would win again and it would all seem to be alright for a while.
My debt kept growing and growing with nearly every trip. The hypodermic needle would be plunged into my skin and every time they had to hold me down. Every time I would feel a little more empty. A little more hollow.
Waking up every day began to feel the same. Nothing had definition or purpose.
“You’re here all the time,” one of the goons whispered to me as they shot the needle into my vein the time after that. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? You should just get a job here and then at least you’ll be in on the secret.”
I applied the next day and got an interview with the boss. I would find out later that if you got someone to apply there you got a one dream bonus.
In his office, the well-dressed man was sitting behind a massive polished ebony desk. The room was adorned with paintings, sculptures, and other high-priced artwork. He had photos everywhere of himself shaking hands with world leaders, new and old, for hundreds of years.
His face never changed. Never aged.
“So, you want to work with us? Tired of dreamless nights without end? You want to have some relief, is that it?”
“Yes. Please. Anything. I’ve been coming here for so long and it’s an endless cycle. I want back what I’ve lost but I keep finding myself more and more in debt with each visit.”
“Ah, so do you understand it now, then? What the ‘injections’ are?”
It finally dawned on me, sitting there. Not injections at all. They weren’t putting something in us. They were taking something out. The vermillion-coloured liquid in the vials – our dreams.
“If I take a job with you, will the same rules apply? Will they still take my sleep, my rest, every time I lose?”
“Yes. We can’t have the employees living by different rules than everyone else. But we will give you an alternative injection, so that you feel well-rested when you come in for your shift.”
“I’ll do it. I need to rest. I need to get some meaningful sleep. My life has been miserable ever since coming here.”
“Well, I can’t promise that this will help,” he said, getting up from his desk with a hypodermic gun in his hand. The vial of fluid sitting atop this one was jet-black and looked evil and poisonous. He rolled up his sleeves as he primed it and I watched a few beads of it drip oil-like out of the tip of the needle.
“What the hell is that!? I don’t want that stuff in me!”
“But you need to sleep, my dear worker. I can’t have you passing out at the blackjack table like a narcoleptic! You agreed to this, after all. You wanted to rest, and the only way for that to happen is for you to have SOME sort of dream. Not everyone is as lucky as you, you know. To have that wonderful vermillion fluid in your veins. Some people come to us begging to take it from them. Some of our employees for example, the ones who do the recruitment for us, are full of this black stuff.”
“What?” I had gotten up from the chair and was backing away from him towards the door. But I found it was locked as he approached.
“First you have to tell me the password, Sid.”
“Seramth Gin.” I said the words that I had said every time to gain access to the casino, only this time I pictured the letters and rearranged them in my mind.
“Nightmares.”
He smiled as he injected me with the vial of black hate, and it went into my veins feeling hot and unpleasant. I began to sweat and the beads of it turned cold on my skin as I shivered.
I’ll sleep tonight. I might even wake up feeling rested. But as long as I live and work at that casino, I’ll be afraid to dream again. Because now my unconscious hours are occupied by the most terrifying experiences imaginable. Nightmares beyond imagining in their awfulness. That is my fate.
Unless… Just maybe, I can win one more time.
JG TCC I had turned 21, on June 21, 2016, and my Grandmother took me to Atlantic City where she went on her honeymoon before the casino’s were established. Unfortunately, my grandfather had passed away in 1999 and at least my Grandmother has me to go places with her.
We stayed at the Trump Taj Mahal and I just loved the bright lights and the sounds of the slot machines. My Grandmother and I decided to play the penny slots with just one penny at a time. We were definitely not their target customers.
My Grandmother carried around a big purse where she had loads of snacks stuffed inside. Between the free drinks and my Grandmother’s snacks there was really no reason to get up besides to go to the bathroom.
Every time I would get up my Grandmother would save my seat at the slot machine. My Grandmother was raised during he depression and she developed some unique habits, like if someone had only eaten half of their hotdog and left it on the side of the garbage then she would just finish eating it. I just thought it was funny and she probably had developed an immunity to every imaginable germ.
Watching my Grandmother, I followed suit and did the same thing by finishing other people’s meals.
I was 21 and had no real responsibilities. I came from a dysfunctional home where my parents were at times functioning alcoholics and other times they weren’t really functional at all.
Unfortunately, I had the same addictive personality like my parents as does my Grandmother and the slot machines were like candy to our brains.
Neither my Grandmother nor I had cell phones so we had no one to bother us. We just had such a good time playing the slots and joking around with each other. There was no real concept of time inside the Taj Mahal. 2:00 am looked the same inside the casino as 2:00 pm.
We just played and played and played. We both seemed to drift off at times and close our eyes for a short time then we wake up and continue to play.
I would lose a penny then win three pennies then lose five pennies then win seven pennies. The thrill of winning mixed with the bright lights and catchy sounds sent a jolt of happiness through my brain.
My grandmother and I were definitely poster child’s for the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. We just both had addictive personalities. I remember reading about radio contests to see who can stay up the longest where days of sleep deprivation led to permanent mental health issues for the contestants.
I knew things were getting bad when multiple cocktail waitresses would say “hey your back again” or “you were in the same spot as last week.”
I was hanging on by a thread. I knew if I got away from the stimulus of the machines then my mind and body would just collapse. I had complete tunnel vision everything besides my Grandmother was completely filtered out.
The casino manager actually approached my Grandmother and I to give us a friendly warning that it was time to leave. I almost collapsed when he told us that it had been three weeks straight that we were playing the same slot machines. I think we caused red flags in their computers because neither of the slot machines we using were generating any money for the hotel.
I think we were scared to move for fear that we would both collapse. The casino made an exception and brought us both coffees.
After drinking the coffees my Grandmother and I agreed to get up and go to the bathroom then leave. When I got into the bathroom I knew that I had pushed my mind and body way to far from days if not weeks of sleep deprivation. I was concerned for my grandmother but I truly had nothing left in me, so I went in one of the bathroom stall’s locked the door and sat down on the toilet where I instantaneously passed out.
I had such deep dreams that I never had before. I was in my own dreamworld. Nothing could wake me up but time.
Then, like a bear knows hibernation is over, I felt a sensation in my head that it was time to get up. I opened my eyes and there’s nothing but absolute darkness. A darkness that I haven’t experienced since I was deep in an underground cave when I was on a tenth grade field trip.
I thought that I had gone blind because there was nothing but darkness. My head was just so exhausted. I feel like I could close my eyes and sleep more, but my adrenaline was starting to kick in.
I’m still feeling a bit woozy and I say “where am I?” I was still trying to remember all the weird dreams I had on top of trying to figure out where I am in this complete darkness. I’m in a sitting position so I try to stand up, but my legs are numb, so I sit back down.
I then try to recall where I am and I say “am I sitting in a toilet in the casino?” I think to myself this can’t be. Did the lights in the bathroom break? Why hasn’t anyone else come in?
I yell out “Hello ... Hello. The lights in the bathroom are out. Grandma! Can you hear me?”
I’m met with deafening silence. I reach my arms out and feel metal walls on both sides of me so I know for sure that I’m in a bathroom stall.
I figure I sat for to long and I must of put to much pressure on my nerves so that’s why my legs are numb. I decide to throw myself on the floor. I lean forward and I could feel the door of the stall in front of me. I use the door to brace myself to the floor.
I continually say “ooh awe ooh” until I hurl myself on the floor. My legs are still to weak to move so I drag myself with my arms and reach up to unlock the door to the stall.
I get out of the stall and I get a sensation of extreme hunger and thirst. I now focus on finding the sinks. I use my arms to drag my body on the bathroom floor. I can’t remember where the sinks were located so I just continually move around on the floor. The fear of the absolute darkness outweighs the disgustingness of the bathroom floor. Eventually I start to feel metal pipes and I realize that I’m under a sink. I’m starting to get a little sensation back in my legs so with one hand I reach up for the sink and I reach out with my other hand and thrust myself upwards until I’m on my knees. I yell out a loud groaning sound and I awkwardly stand up. My legs are shaky and weak but at least I can feel them. I give myself a minute to allow my legs to get reacclimated and allow circulation to go through them.
I reach out and feel metal and I push in and realize that it’s one of those faucets that you push in to get water in order to get water to come out. I use one hand as a cup and I lean forward and continually drink water from my hand until I’m satisfied.
I start to feel that my legs have some strength so I take small steps while I hold onto the sink.
I get an overwhelming urgency to urinate so I decide to pee in the sink rather than trying to find the urinal. I unzip my pants and all I could think of if someone opens the door then I would be so embarrassed or possibly arrested. I finish peeing and I pick a direction and I slowly move my legs. I feel around the walls and eventually I feel the frame of a door and I push on it forward.
As the door opens I see nothing and I hear nothing. I’m scared beyond belief. I don’t know if there was a massive power outage or some type of evacuation happened or there was some type of apocalypse.
I yell out “Hello is there anyone else here Hello!” I get no response so I continually to yell out Hello. I vaguely remember the women’s bathroom being next to the men’s bathroom. So I guide myself against the wall until I feel a door. I figure that it must be the women’s bathroom so I open the door.
I yell out “Grandma are you in there ... Grandma are you there?”
I wait a few moments and in a low raspy voice I hear “John, Is that you? Turn the lights on. Where am I?”
I say “Grandma I think we’re still in the casino and I don’t know what’s going on. There’s no power anywhere. It’s just not the bathroom. The casino is completely dark as well.”
My grandmother responded “Casinos never close. Especially the Taj Mahal.”
I respond “I know Grandma. I have no idea what’s going on!”
My grandma responds “How long have we been asleep?”
I respond “I have no idea. I’m guessing days.”
My grandma says “I can’t move my legs.”
I respond “I know I couldn’t move mine either. Give them a few minutes you’ll get your sensation back. Try to move around as you sit down. I’m going to go and try to find out what’s going on!”
My grandmother responds “Ok but come back. Don’t leave me to die.”
I say “I won’t I’ll come back for you.”
I exit the bathroom and yell out “I’ll be back Grandma!” And she responds “You better!”
I try my best to remember as much as I could about the casino and the arrangements of everything. It’s difficult because it’s as dark as an underground cave. There is zero light or at least I hope that’s the problem and I haven’t gone blind. But then I think that my grandmother couldn’t see either. I thought there’s emergency lights that should come on if there’s a power outage, so I really have no idea of what’s going on.
I get a dreamlike memory of dropping money on the floor and remembering a red like carpet then I remember the garbage cans alongside the walkway where people would leave there their uneaten food.
I slowly start to remember that there’s a walkway made up of tiles in the middle of the casino floor that separates two areas of slot machines. So if I make it to the middle area then I probably could walk towards an exit.
I feel the floor and it’s carpet. I slowly start to walk and I feel slot machine after slot machine. I walk slow so I don’t bang my legs into chairs. I’m in a virtual maze and I feel like I’m just going around in circles.
The feeling of overwhelming hunger is starting to consume me as well. My legs have most of their strength back at this point but I’m consumed with hunger and fear.
Navigating around a casino floor is confusing enough with the lights being on and in complete darkness it’s virtually impossible.
I’ve must have been wandering aimlessly for an hour in a virtual circle. I have to come up with a plan. I know my grandmother must be terrified as well.
I have no rope or anything else. Not to say that rope would help me. Then I have an aha moment. I say out loud “The chairs. Use the chairs.” Meaning that the backs of the chairs move to the side when someone gets up from the slot machines. So if I move the back of the chairs to their sides then that’s how I’ll know I’ve been down the row.
I can’t explain why all the chairs are facing forward. If there was a mass exodus then most of the chairs would be facing to their sides.
As I walk each chair I pass I move it to its side. This takes a painstakingly long amount of time but my wandering method didn’t work.
Eventually my method seems to work as I can tell which rows I’ve been down already. Remarkably I feel a divide in carpet from from tile and I say “Thank God!”
I have grainy memories of coming into the casino and seeing staircases and escalators that were opulent but my Grandmother wanted nothing to do with them. But I do remember getting on an elevator and I believe we went to the third floor, so I know that I have to find stairs now.
I know we originally came in through the boardwalk and we didn’t walk that far once we got inside the casino. So now I have to find the stairs and not miss them because the hotel is long and if walk in a direction opposite the boardwalk I am virtually dead because I’ll never find my way back in the pitch dark because the hotel casino is so big and long.
So I slowly walk with my hands out. I walk back and forth and I can tell that the tiled area is about six feet wide.
Eventually I find an area where the tile opens up. My hands reach out to walls and I feel metal elevator doors. Of course their buttons don’t light up. Next to the elevators is a wall that feels like a dead end. So I feel for the elevators again and move past them. I know there must be stairs in the middle of the casino floor.
I want to find the stairs and I don’t want to keep walking down that tile corridor. Also I don’t want to fall down the stairs so once I make it past the elevators I slowly put my foot down to the right and feel more tile so I’m guessing this is more of the corridor.
I backtrack a little bit and I try to move in a horizontal direction to the elevators towards the middle of the casino floor. I inch my way towards the center with my hands out and eventually my right leg hits something and I quickly determine that it is an escalator.
Though I’m consumed by hunger, I know I’m close to getting out of here. I walk down the escalator then I get off and walk down two more sets of escalators.
I figure that I’m on the ground floor and I’m overwhelmed with disappointment that it’s still complete darkness. I have no answer for this. I figure the glass entry doors should emit some form of light even if it’s the moonlight if it’s dark outside.
I know that I have to walk towards the boardwalk and if I move in the wrong direction then I’m better off dead.
I remembered how I walked down the escalators where I went down one way then the next floor I was turned around.
So I figure that I need to walk straight. I force myself to count steps and if I walk more than a hundred then I know I’m going the wrong way. So I slowly move forward with my arms out.
I counted 60 steps and for the first time I can see something other than darkness. I can barely make out a silhouette of a wall, so I move towards the wall.
As I move towards the wall I can’t explain why there’s only a small amount of light getting through. I reach out with my hands and I feel glass. I’m still baffled on why there’s only faint light. Then as I move along the glass I can eventually see A slither of the boardwalk and it’s daytime and people are just casually walking. Then I see that there is wood panels on the outside and the doors are boarded shut.
So I frantically start banging on the glass doors and I can see people look in my direction but they just continue to walk by. I don’t know if there was a hurricane or something to explain why the doors are boarded shut.
So with the little energy I have left I knock and knock and knock. I don’t know if the people think the knocking is from construction or if they just don’t care.
Eventually I fall to the flood put my back to the wall and bang with my elbows against the glass.
The hope that I once had is gone. My body has zero energy and I’m going to die like a trapped rat. I just can’t keep my eyes open anymore. I have no idea when the last time I ate was because I don’t know how long I was asleep for.
Then I pass out.
I slowly wake up and realize that I’m on a hospital gurney. Apparently someone heard me knocking and notified the police. The Good Samaritan was a former casino worker who knew the casino was essentially abandoned and there was no work going on.
I was given IV’s that gave me enough strength for me to regain my consciousness. I asked the nurse “where’s my grandmother?”
She responds “Do you want me to call your grandmother and tell her your in the hospital?”
I say in a weak raspy voice “No, my grandmother was in the casino with me!”
The nurse said “Sir, the police report says your probably homeless and somehow you wandered into the casino.”
I say “No, my grandmother and I were playing the slot machines for days with no rest and we both went into the bathroom and each passed out in a stall.”
The nurse says “Sir the Taj Mahal went bankrupt months ago. If your story is accurate then you have been asleep for months.”
I start to get weak again and tell the nurse “Please my grandmother is on the third floor on the women’s bathroom.”
Then I pass out again.
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