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For Bolsheviki, UnderworldTorrent and Tacite

The sounds of battle were muffled in the basement, the soldier cursing in heated russian as she gripped her wounded leg. It was pure chance the doctor had been able to find her, but even with all of his talents, things were looking grim. "Плохо ли это?" The young woman gasped, "Is it bad?"

The doctor could see Death upon the soldier, he had seen him come many times before. "There is a way to cheat death," The man spoke carefully, "Is there a game you excell in?"

"The game of drink!" The dying woman choked, eyeing the doctor as though he was mad.

Suddenly the sounds of violence and shattering stone and thundering skies outside dimmed until it was almost inaudible, instead replaced by the sound of a bottle being placed on a table. There sat a man in red, horns upon his head and a devilish smile, undoubtedly from the underworld, and beside him a figure with a golden helmet and signs of the gates above. "Then we will drink for your life," The demon replied. "If I win, you come with me to a world of torment for all the lives you've taken."

"If I win, you come with me," The heavenly guard replied, "I will safely escort you to the world of light for all of the lives you've saved."

"If you win, you live," The demon added and suddenly the young russian soldier felt well enough to rise, and take a seat at the table, although her expression was begrudgingly defiant.

"And if I win," The doctor added, "You will never claim any who I treat."

The glasses were poured, and the game began. As for who won... that is any one's guess.