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Summary: Marvin Delacour gets invited to the most extravagant charity gala every year. Every year someone else wins a prize for donating the most amount of money. Could this year be his year?

It was the most extravagant charity gala of the year. Only the richest of the rich could afford to attend. The Director was the head of the event, but no one really knew much about him. He showed up for the gala every year, but for the most part kept out of the spotlight. He could have been a robot for all the people knew. The charity brought in obscene amounts of money for homeless shelters and soup kitchens across New York. But no one knew what The Director did the rest of the time. Did he have his own collection of wealth? Did he spend all year planning the next gala? It was a mystery. 

Marvin Delacour had bought a ticket for the gala like he did every year. He thought of the charity auction as a good way to get a tax break. The ticket was pricey, but it went to a delicious seven course meal before the actual auction. It was a silent auction so no one knew the outcome until the very end of the night. This year, he bought a ticket for his wife and his son, who had just turned twenty. His son couldn’t drink the expensive champagne, but he would still enjoy himself. Maybe Marvin would even win this year. That would show his wife and son a real good time. He didn’t always bid to win, but it wouldn’t hurt to throw in a few extra dollars. 

Marvin stood in front of the full length mirror. He wore a well tailored tux for the evening. It was sleek black with a white button up shirt. He was trying to decide what kind of tie, bow or regular. He thought maybe the regular tie would hide the fact he had gained some weight over the holidays. Too much turkey on Thanksgiving and Christmas. The New Year was full of prime rib and seafood. It was the first week of the new year and he was feeling a little sorry for himself. He wanted to look his best for press photos. He put on the full length tie and buttoned up his tux. It seemed to do the job. He slicked back his salt and pepper hair. Some might say he looked a little greasy with all that junk in his hair, but he liked it. 

His wife Beatrix came out of the walk-in closet in a tight sparkling dress. It showed off her curves in the most delicious way. She wasn’t a twig necessarily. She had curvy hips and a bust to die for. She was also twenty years younger than him. She was his third wife and not the mother of his son. She didn’t want children of her own. It would wreck her figure. He agreed. Though that didn’t mean they didn’t fool around quite often. She was a yoga instructor and told him regularly that sex was good exercise. As long as he stretched first. He wasn’t sure what he thought of the stretching, but he liked what followed. 

“Beautiful,” he said as she came up behind him. 

“You always say that,” she giggled and twirled her finger in her long blonde hair. 

“I only say what I mean,” he smiled and turned around to kiss her.

She was a few inches taller than him in her heels, but he didn’t mind. 

“Gross,” his son said as he came into the bedroom. 

“Son, you’re twenty now… and you can handle a man kissing his wife.” 

Junior shook his head. “It’s still gross.” 

Marvin rolled his eyes. “Are you ready to go?”

Junior nodded. “Look at me… slick as fuck.” He gestured to his own black tux. 

Junior looked more like his mother, Marvin’s first wife. Instead of dark brown hair like Marvin he had fiery red hair. His eyes were a deep green and his pale skin was dusted with freckles. Marvin was tan and had brown eyes. If he had been better at biology he might have wondered how so many recessive genes ended up in his son, but he paid no mind. 

“Let’s go. Arwan is waiting with the car,” Marvin said. 

“Which car are we taking?” Junior asked. 

“The BMW.” 

“SUV or car?” 

Marvin rolled his eyes. “There are three of us Junior… the SUV.” 

Beatrix grabbed her clutch and double checked her makeup in the mirror. Marvin escorted her out of the large bedroom, down the hall, and down the stairs. He led her out to the front of their massive mansion and to the car where their driver Arwan was waiting. Arwan was a young Middle Eastern man. He had medium curly hair, deep brown, and equally brown skin. His eyes were almost amber in color, giving him a striking appearance. Beatrix spent a lot of time telling him how cute he was and that he could be a model, but Marvin preferred Arwan as his driver. Marvin would never tell anyone but he wasn’t a fan of hiring people of color at his modelling agency. 

Delacour Agency hired the most beautiful people in the world. As long as they were white and didn’t mind having their hair dyed blonde. He made good money on his agency. And that was where he met his last two wives. He always said his first wife was a fluke. She wasn’t blonde for one thing, but at least she gave him his son. 

Arwan opened the car door for them. Marvin crawled in first, then Beatrix, then Junior. They declined to buckle up as Arwan got into the driver’s seat. He took off toward the gala. Marvin checked his emails on his phone while Arwan took them toward their destination. The gala took place just on the edge of New York City. It was in a mansion supposedly owned by The Director. 

The BMW pulled up to a wrought iron gate. Arwan spoke to a man in front of the gate. After their identities were confirmed they were allowed entrance. There was a large fountain in front of the mansion. Beautifully handcrafted. Marvin always felt a tinge of jealousy when he saw The Director’s mansion. 

Arwan pulled up in front of the massive house and got out to open the doors. Everyone slid out of the BMW and started towards the double doors. Two men stood by, waiting to open the doors for everyone. There were many people arriving. Their drivers dropped them off and left. They would be back around midnight to pick everyone back up. Servants weren’t allowed entry unless they worked for The Director. 

Inside was a large marble staircase. Marble floors and various kinds of artwork and statues everywhere. It was a place of indulgence. Waiters walked around in black slacks, white button up shirts, and black ties. They carried trays of champagne. The Delacours took a glass, except for Junior. Marvin led the way down a wide hallway toward the ballroom. The ballroom was turned into a giant dining hall for all the attendees. 

Each table had a freshly pressed white table cloth. There were name placards on each seat, designating everyone’s place. Even though the tickets to this event were pricey, but everyone who’s anyone shows up and makes their bid. The point was to bid the most. Bid extravagantly and donate the most to charity. All of the money went to charity no matter what, but one person each year won a grand prize in honor of their bid. Most of the time it was a vacation. Though no one ever seemed to come back home afterwards. Marvin assumed they loved the destination so much they simply moved there. Even if Marvin didn’t win this year it was a nice tax break. 

At the table was an envelope for the diners to place their bid. Marvin pulled out his checkbook and stared down at it for a moment. One million should do it. He scribbled out his price and put it into the envelope. The rest of the night was full of fine dining, champagne, and chats with other people of his caliber. He enjoyed himself, drinking several glasses of the expensive champagne, and eating the most delicious caviar and lobster. By the end of the night he had almost forgotten why he was there. 

Someone cleared their throat into a microphone at the back of the room. Everyone turned their heads. A short, stout man stood there. He wore an impeccable suit. His short hair was thinning and starting to recede. His face was as round as the rest of him. He grinned, showing his sparkling teeth. Marvin swallowed. There was something about The Director’s smile that had always unnerved him. As if The Director had too many teeth. 

“Hello,” he said in a rich deep voice. “It’s been a pleasure to host you all this evening, but now it is time for the main event.” 

Everyone applauded. 

A man dressed in all black handed The Director a blood red envelope. He flipped it open and pulled out a small slip of paper. “The winner for this year’s charity gala is… Marvin Delacour and the rest of the Delacour family.” 

Marvin nearly choked on his champagne. “Really?” he practically shouted. 

“Please, Mr. Delacour, come up with your family.” 

Marvin stood up, though a little wobbly after all the alcohol, and walked with his wife and son toward The Director. 

“This year the prize is an all expenses paid vacation to a small island off of Italy.” 

Marvin clapped his hands “Excellent.” 

“If you would follow the man in black toward that door over there,” The Director said. “I will join you momentarily.” 

Marvin, Beatrix, and Junior walked with the man in black toward a door off the ballroom. Inside was a staircase that went down, down, spiralling further, until it seemed they were miles away from the ballroom. 

“Where exactly are we going?” Marvin asked. 

“The Director’s office… to smooth out any details,” the man in black said. 

When they hit the bottom of the stairs they were met with another large door. The man in black opened the door for them and they walked inside. 

“Dad… I’m not sure this is right,” Junior said. 

The room was dark and had a smell to it. Something Marvin couldn’t put a name to, but it was very unpleasant. Coppery like blood but worse. There was something mixed with it. He was trying to figure out what the other scent was when the door opened behind them. 

The Director walked through. The man in black left and the door closed. On the other side there was a loud clunk of a lock being put into place. 

“Now hold on, is this anyway to treat the winner?” Marvin exclaimed. 

“Did I say you won?” The Director chuckled. “I meant you lost.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Marv, I’m scared,” Beatrix whispered. 

“Dad, what the fuck.” 

“Enough,” The Director said. “You lost. You bid the least amount. Because of your cheapness you will be punished.” 

The Director flicked on a light. A large headlight came on over what looked like the biggest meat grinder Marvin had ever seen. It was bloody and rusted. The smell throughout the room was coming from that. Death and bloody meat. Marvin was about to ask what the hell he was talking about punishment but his eyes fell on a finger laying in a puddle of blood below the meat grinder. 

He ran toward the door, followed by his wife and son. They banged on the door, screamed, and cried for anyone to help them. But miles above them in the mansion the rest of the elite were drinking and eating. They had no idea what was about to happen to the Delacour family. 

**

The Director walked into one of the largest soup kitchens in New York City. He smiled as a young woman came up to him. 

“Amelia,” he said sweetly. “I have a donation for you today.” 

Amelia beamed. “You’ve already given us so much. With the money from your charity gala we’ve been able to upgrade the kitchens and serve more people.” 

“Well how about some fresh ground meat?” He made a gesture with his hand and two men in black stepped forward with several packages of ground meat wrapped in butcher paper and twine. 

“Oh how lovely! We could make burgers… or meatloaf! Would you like to join us this evening and meet some of the people you’ve been helping?” 

He grinned wide. “I would love nothing more. Make sure my burger is extra rare.”