Once upon a time, in a faraway land where villages huddled beneath misty forests and meadows shimmered in the morning dew, there lived a young man named Hansel. But unlike other boys who toiled in the fields or learned trades from their fathers, Hansel had a very peculiar obsession—he loved to gamble.

Hansel didn’t care for plows or hammers. His heart beat not for honest work, but for the thrill of dice, cards, and the chime of coins. As soon as he came of age, he abandoned all duties and spent his days in taverns and roadside inns, challenging anyone who would play. Sometimes he won, sometimes he lost, but one thing remained certain—he couldn’t stop.

His poor parents wept for him. “Hansel, your pockets are empty, and so is your future,” his mother cried. “Why can’t you see what your gambling is doing?”

But Hansel only laughed. “Luck is with me, Mama! One good throw of the dice, and I’ll be rich forever!”

He gambled away every coin he had. Then he sold his coat, then his shoes, and finally, even his hat. When he had nothing left but the shirt on his back, he begged or stole to join games again. Still, he could not resist the siren call of the next game, the next chance to win it all back.

One day, down to his last hope, Hansel wandered into the forest and dropped to his knees.

“Dear God,” he cried, “I know I have wasted everything! But if I could only have one more chance, I swear I’ll change!”

But Heaven was silent.

Suddenly, there was a shimmer in the air, and who should appear but the devil himself, tall and grim with a wicked grin.

“I heard your prayer,” said the devil, folding his arms. “And I think I can help.”

Hansel trembled. “Are you God?”

The devil chuckled darkly. “Hardly. But I can give you what you want. I’ll fill your pockets with gold so you can gamble to your heart’s content. All I ask is that when your time comes, you serve me.”

Hansel, without hesitation, nodded. “Deal!”

And so, the devil snapped his fingers. Gold filled Hansel’s pockets, more than he had ever dreamed of. He strutted into town dressed in new clothes, tossing coins in the air. He gambled with dukes and merchants, besting them all with uncanny luck.

He became famous—Gambling Hansel, they called him. He won games across kingdoms, richer each day, his name whispered in gambling dens and royal courts alike.

Years passed. Hansel grew older, bolder, and wealthier. But the devil, ever patient, did not forget.

One night, as Hansel sat counting his winnings under a flickering tavern candle, the devil returned.

“It’s time,” he said.

Hansel frowned. “Time for what?”

“For you to come with me.”

Hansel slammed his hands on the table. “No! I’m not ready! I haven’t lived enough!”

“A deal is a deal,” the devil said coldly.

But Hansel, ever the gambler, smiled slyly. “How about a game? If I win, you let me go.”

The devil raised an eyebrow. “You want to gamble with me?”

Hansel nodded. “One last game.”

Amused, the devil agreed.

They played. Cards and dice flew. At first, Hansel lost—his hands shook, and the devil laughed. But Hansel had always been clever. Just when it seemed he was beaten, he pulled off one final trick and won.

The devil snarled. “Fine. You have a little more time. But your soul will still be mine.”

Years turned into decades. Hansel grew very old. At last, Death came knocking. Not the devil—this time, it was the quiet, inevitable end.

As Hansel’s soul left his body, he approached the gates of Heaven. But the angels turned him away.

“There is no place for a gambler here,” they said. “You used your life on games and tricks. You are not welcome.”

Ashamed but still determined, Hansel turned to the gates of Hell. But the devil stood there, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

“Oh no,” the devil said. “You tricked me once. I won’t be fooled again. There’s no room for you in Hell either.”

Hansel stood there stunned. Heaven rejected him. Hell barred him.

“Where am I to go?” he asked, his voice a whisper.

The devil grinned. “You’ll wander, Gambling Hansel. Between worlds. Never resting. Never dying. Playing games with shadows and regrets.”

And so it was.

To this day, it’s said that Hansel roams the earth, his ghostly figure appearing wherever dice clatter and coins fall. Some say you can still see him watching games, whispering in the ears of the bold and foolish. He waits, perhaps for one last roll of the dice to win back a place in the world of the living—or maybe just for the thrill of the game.

But be warned—if Gambling Hansel joins your table, luck may change swiftly, and the stakes may be higher than they seem.