Sorry, Larry

First of all, this is my friend's story. I cannot guarantee for it's truthfulness as I could with my previous stories. He read what I had to say on Reddit and he thought I'd be able to tell his story better than he could. He is also not ashamed of the events about to be described, although some of you might find them...repulsive.
It was a big story in our small country. Several people obviously related, dead within a day, all independent events. Police couldn't do anything but call it a "freakish set of coincidences." My friend, who I will call "Larry" from now on, has a different explanation.
Larry lived a good life. He went to the best university in a neighboring country then came back home and got a really good job at the biggest bank. He was only 22 years old and already moving up in the world. He was a good-looking man. Combine his success with his looks, personality and intellect, and you'll get one hell of a catch. It was no wonder that women would flock to him. You'd think he'd have many jealous enemies, but everyone seemed to love Larry. All in all, Larry was the man.
Larry lived your typical bachelor life. Wild weekends, different perfect 10s in his bed every few nights. Then he met Linda. She was a perfect 10 in looks and she had an awesome personality. We all loved her. Larry fell for her. They dated only 3 months before he proposed with a $5,000 (big deal in our country) ring. She cried, said yes, and they had a wonderful wedding. I was the best man along with his brother, Terry.
Larry and Linda had a beautiful baby girl 9 months later. They named her Maya. Larry got a promotion at the bank and life couldn't get any better. Then, he started changing. He was always looking tired, or even sad. He'd never tell me what was truly wrong. He'd tell me it's because he was working too much. He lied to my face.
3 months after Larry started changing, a night that will always be remembered in my country's history books happened. Within 24 hours, all in separate events, Larry was in a coma; his brother Terry, his father Rick and Linda were dead.
Story so far has been told from my perspective. Now I am about to tell you Larry's side.
It was a late October night. Larry felt like shit. His wife was out, visiting her aunt in a nearby town. She took their daughter with her. He was drinking. Heavily. Jack Daniels became his best buddy lately. Halfway through the big bottle, he started playing with his gun. He inherited that Glock from his dad. It was empty, but he contemplated putting a bullet in.
"Maybe it will all stop then." He'd think.
He kept drinking. Stupid ideas unfortunately become more and more tempting when we drink. Few shots later, Larry put a bullet in his gun. He was always afraid of death, but at this moment, it seemed like the best option. He always wondered how people could commit suicide. It was such a selfish act to him, so brutal, yet he was thinking about it. He was too afraid of putting the gun in his mouth, though. He said that sometimes when you fire, you don't kill yourself and you end up either choking on your own blood or even worse-you end up living. Living with brain damage. He wouldn't want that. He wanted to shoot himself in the heart. He said he read it'd hurt, but if aimed properly, it'd be over quickly. He was scared. But he wanted it. Three more shots of Jack. It was time.
He put a pillow over his chest. He pressed the gun to the pillow. He pulled the trigger.
Larry says that all that stuff they say about life passing before your eyes is bullshit. He says that the first thing you think of is survival. It’s natural.
Police later said that Larry's Glock had an unnatural kick when fired, causing his shot to deviate to the left and only slightly damage his heart. Larry fell into a coma almost immediately. At least police and medics say that.
So far, this story has been nothing but a scene taken out of bad soap opera. But this is where it becomes no sleep material, in my opinion.
Larry says he didn’t go into a coma. He says that after the shot, all he felt was fucking pain. Feeling a sudden fear of death, he thought about calling the ambulance, but decided to just suffer until the end. He laid on the floor, right next to the couch where he shot himself. He waited for death to come get him.
Then he heard a knock on his back door.
"Fuck, someone heard the shot" he thought, semi-scared and semi-happy. He wanted to die, but there was a part of him still pleading for life. Maybe, if neighbor discovers him, they could call 911 and save him. Then, he'd work on his issues, fix it all, all that good stuff.
It was a struggle trying to get to the back door. He was crawling. Larry yelled "come in!" and "help!" many times to no response. And knocking was never repeated. He was afraid that the person left. This is it.
He managed to make it to the door, some 5 minutes after the initial knocking. He barely reached the handle and propped the door open.
A man stood before him. It wasn't any of his neighbors, nor was it any of his friends. But that didn’t matter right now.
"Come on up, let me help you." Man said reaching for Larry's right arm. He picked him up and helped him to the kitchen table. He sat him down.
"Help me...call 911" Larry tried stating the obvious, somewhat shocked at man's lack of surprise.
"You won't be needing that Larry."
Larry describes the man as extremely average. Height about 5'10", regular build. He was wearing a black suit with white dress shirt underneath, and a skinny black tie. Nothing about him would make you think twice when seeing him on the street.
"What do you mean… I am hurt!" Larry yelled instantly feeling pain in his chest. "I am dying."
"Yes, you are." -man said in a very calm voice. Then he walked over to the couch, poured himself a glass of Jack and gave an offering look to Larry, wondering if he wants one.
"I don't have to die. Please help…"
"Tell me, Larry, how much do you love your life?"
"I...I see now that I am ready to live. I was stupid. Help me, please, for god's sake man. I have a daughter..."
"Okay Larry, good answer." It was only then that Larry noticed a man holding something resembling a skinny box underneath his armpit. He put it on the table. It was wrapped in a fine black cloth. The man pulled it out. It was a chess board.
"What is this? I need help!" Larry pleaded one last time before he lost any energy to argue. He thinks blood loss was substantial at that point.
"You won't die just yet." Man said in a confident voice. "I want to offer you a choice Larry."
"What are you talking about?" Larry's voice has become reduced to whispers at this point.
"I want to play a chess game with you." Man started lining up chess figures on the board.
"I am dying you sick bastard."
"You will live long enough to finish the game. Trust me."
All the figures were in their places on the board now.
"You said you wanted to live. If that's true, I can help you. You are currently dying. At a fast pace. I can stop that, at least temporarily. If you call the ambulance now, you'll be dead before they arrive. I'm your only chance."
"Who are you?" Larry started coughing.
"Irrelevant at this moment. Here are the rules of the game. If you win, you live. If you lose, you die. You're already dead if you don't play."
"Why wouldn't I play then? If I am dead anyw…" The man cut him off.
"There's a catch, of course. Isn't that what you guys say? There's a catch? Yes, well, there is a catch. For every figure you lose, someone you love dies."
"I can't." Larry said that the mixture of him dying and the weirdness of this situation made him believe this man was telling the truth. "I can't kill my loved ones."
"Fine." man stood up, obviously getting ready to pack up his stuff.
"Wait." Larry mumbled.
"What was that?" Man leaned towards my friend.
"I want to play." Larry said, extremely ashamed of his selfishness. But hey, human desire to live outweighs most moral dilemmas.
"That's what I thought. Shall we begin?" man sat back down.
"Yes."
Larry had the white figures. His first move. Imagine the pressure of playing in a chess competition. One wrong move, and you're out. Now imagine the pressure of playing with your family's lives. Unbearable.
Larry says that the man appeared to be good at this game. Of course he was. It didn't take too long for Larry to lose the first pawn.
"Alright, let's see." man said with obvious satisfaction in his smile. "Your father, how old is he?"
"Please no, just take me, I surrender." Larry begged.
"It doesn't work that way Larry." Man seemed to start getting annoyed. "Your father, Rick, he's, what, 65?"
"66" Said Larry, with tears in his eyes.
"Good time to go."
Police say it was a natural death. Autopsy showed nothing other than a heart attack. Rick was watching late night TV, drinking his favorite brand of beer when his heart stopped beating. Mailman found him in the morning. He said that Rick had a surprised but satisfied look on his face.
"Shall we proceed?" Man said, using both hands to point at the board.
Larry tried his best. He played, strategized, calculated, all while feeling terrible pain in his chest. He wondered how he was still conscious, alive even. Then, he lost a queen. If you know anything about chess, that means the game is nearing the end.
"Ouch. A queen. This will have to be someone more important, Larry."
"Please, stop it. Stop it now."
"Tell you what, this time, it's your choice. Your brother Terry, or your wonderful wife Linda."
"No, please, no…"
"Don't make me make the choice, Larry. Terry or Linda?"
"I don't… I can't." Larry looked up and saw tremendous mixture of disappointment and rage in man's face. He knew he had to make a choice.
"Terry." He said and started crying loudly.
"There, it wasn’t so hard."
According to the newspaper, Terry was driving his car, possibly intoxicated (police never released that report), when it broke down near the railroad tracks. Apparently, he decided to walk the tracks to the nearest station and ask for help. It is believed that his foot got stuck while the midnight train was coming. He tried to get out of the way as much as possible before the impact, but the train severed lower bottom of his body. News reports said Terry was alive for few minutes before dying. They said he suffered. Homeless man who witnessed the whole incident says he could hear Terry plead with someone, but swears that there was nobody else there.
Larry was bawling his eyes out. He didn't want to keep playing. He knew that even if he survived, he'd had to live with the guilt of killing his father and brother. But he was afraid of the man.
It was almost as if the man could read Larry's death wish.
"You know Larry, death has many faces. If you die, there are many places you can end up in. If you stop now, I guarantee you that your place won't be… as pleasant."
"I don't care. I want to die." Larry knew that the game was already over. It probably was before it even began.
"Let me tell you what happened to the last woman who quit. I sent her to my favorite place. I call it "nowhere". See, Larry, there are environments worse than Hell. Imagine floating in eternal dark, forever. There is no sound, no light, no ground. You're just floating. Forever. Is that what you want?"
Larry was terrified. Eternity of emptiness sounded scarier than death of the loved ones.
"Let's finish it."
Larry tried his best to regain position in the game, but it was hard. He was trying to win, but he couldn’t lose anymore figures. Enough people died already.
Then, the man pulled a surprising move, taking out one more of his pawns and effectively winning the game.
"Sorry, Larry. You lost, but I took another figure. One more must die."
"No, I lost, I'm dead. Let me die. No need to take anyone else. Please."
"Sorry. Deal's a deal. But who? Your mother is already dead… That only leaves us with your wife or daughter. So who is it going to be? Linda or Maya?"
How do you make a choice like that? How do you justify it? You can't.
"I can’t do that." Larry pleaded, determined to resist.
"Fine, I'll choose. Maya is still young, and I am not a monster, despite of what you think. Linda it is."
"Please…" Larry's last molecules of energy were being spent on begging this man not to take the love of his life away.
"Sorry Larry. I really am."
Evidence surrounding Linda's death is still unclear to the public. She was at her aunt's house in a nearby town. The next day, her aunt found her dead in the bed. She had a terrified look on her face, as if she saw something awful right before she died. Official cause of death was ruled a blood cloth that went to her lung, but not many believe that.
"Well Larry, what can I tell you? You're just like any other human I've dealt with-selfish. You killed three of the people closest to you. And now you have to come with me."
Larry started laughing. First it was a smirk followed by a cough, but then it evolved into a hysterical, full out laughter.
"What is wrong with you?" Man was taken by surprise, possibly for the first time ever.
Larry just kept laughing, periodically coughing out blood.
"You just killed most of your family, you lunatic." Man tried to understand.
Pain in Larry's chest interfered with his laughter and made him stop.
"Family, you say." Larry said, interrupting his sentence with mixture of chuckling and coughing. "Family."
"Yes?" Man sat back down, intrigued.
"See, my dad… Rick. I haven’t called him "dad" since I was 9. You know why? When I was that age, he'd start coming to my room, wanting to "play". That bastard… Death was too good for him."
Man looked shocked. Larry swears his jaw dropped.
"And my other "family". Linda, my wonderful wife. You know what I found out 3 months ago? Hold, on, can I know your name?"
"Proceed." Man appeared absolutely stunned.
"Never mind. Linda. Yes, Linda started fucking around, my friend. She was unfaithful bitch. I wasn't sure if I should take my or her life tonight."
"You...you...what about Terry? Your brother?" Man was scrambling behind the table, not believing what was happening. "What about him?"
Larry started laughing loudly again. He reached for man's half full glass of Jack and took a good sip. "Who do you think Linda was fucking?"
Larry says that man seemed to take a second to comprehend it all. He gathered himself, fixed his tie and brushed of a piece of hair from his coat.
"You don't understand what you just did."
"I don’t care. Don't you get it? My life has no value."
Man stood up, never taking his eyes of Larry. My friend says he saw anger of unlimited proportion in his eyes. Then, there was a knock on the door. The same kind that Larry heard about an hour ago. The man seemed startled at first, but then he put his head down almost as it was what he expected to happen.
"Good bye now, Larry. You… Good bye."
Larry couldn't see who knocked on the door. Man walked out, closed the door behind him, and that's the last thing my friend remembers.
Larry woke up out of a coma 2 weeks later. He was greeted by an army of doctors, family, and media. He learned about deaths of his family, but he said he wasn't surprised. He said he caused it, but nobody really believes that.
Larry is doing well these days. Maya is turning into a beautiful girl and my friend is getting his life back together. It's almost as if the tragedy never happened to him.