Author: Shyguy1 PM
Life as a "Card" isn't easy. So, I quit. I'm done. Of course, it isn't quite that easy.Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Drama - Chapters: 3 - Words: 1,781 - Reviews: 11 - Favs: 3 - Updated: 09-12-11 - Published: 06-18-11 - id: 7095874
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I actually could not believe that there was Solitaire fanfiction. So, being the person I am, I had to milk it for all it was worth. I found some stories to be enjoyable and others just plain stupid. So, I've created this little master-piece...ok, its not really a master-piece, but its decent at least.
This is an AU because really, how much can you write about an actual card game. So, I've decided to apply card names and the idea of the game to kind of a suspenseful and epic storyline.
Here you go enjoy.
It's hard being part of THE GAME. That's life for those of you who don't know. See, I'm part of an organization, called The Deck. We work for a guy known as The Player. Basically a "jack-of-all-trades" business, excuse the pun.
We're transporters, couriers, mercenaries, hit-men, nannies, bus-drivers, bounty-hunters. We do anything. Everything. We don't chose where to go or what to do, The Player does that for us. We work, we live. The alternative is not something I consider too often.
Then there's me. I'm pretty high up in the chain of command, the Jack of Spades. One of the "royals" and in the top division, spades. The harder the mission, the higher card its given to. That's what we are, cards. Thats our "official" title. Just insignificant pieces in some nut jobs insane conspiracy against, what, the world? the government? the U.S. postal service?
No matter. Well, thats at least what I thought until I was told to go to The Player's penthouse suite. See, we get orders in envelopes. We've never seen The Player, don't really have a want too either. This, coincidentally, is where our story begins.
tap tap tap tap
"Would you stop, please? You're driving me insane"
I look down at the pencil gripped tightly between my fingers as I bounced it nervously on the arm of my chair. I shift a little in my heavy rain coat and look toward the speaker "Sorry 2h, its just... what do you think he wants?"
My best friend just sighs in frustration. Whether his frustration is because he doesn't know or because I've asked this question at least thirty times, I'm unsure. He begins to open his mouth for some kind of answer to come crawling out when a light cough catches our attention. The mousy secretary gestures to the open elevator next to her table. "Mr. Ayer will see you now" I almost laugh out loud. Mr Ayer? Peter L. Ayer is the name The Player goes by in public. I just never expected that someone from The Deck would fearfully use his fake name like that, especially not the Queen of Hearts. However, my almost-laughter is squashed by the fact that I'm about to see The Player...and he may be the last thing I see while I'm still living.
The elevator is non-descript. Walls that might have been tan in a past life, silver chrome around worn out buttons. The occasional dark stain here or there that might be something to be worried about. Then I got this unerving feeling. This box was carrying me to my grave.
The doors open to darkness and my eyes are immediately drawn to the smoldering cigarette in being puffed on by an invisible face. The only reason I new that there was a person behind that cigarette was because his outline was framed by the black stormy sky that threatened to unleash yet another torrential downpour on the city. I faintly heard the elevator ding closed behind me and realized that my last hope for life was dinging through the floors toward the bottom. Bye elevator, bye life, nice knowing you
"Come in, sit down." An old dry voice said, seemingly inspiring a singular light to click on over a steel chair in front of me.
"If its all the same to you sir, I think I'll stand" I said. I felt two large hands engulf my shoulders and pick me up. As I squirmed in mid air, I frantically replied "Or sittings good. I love sitting. I do that whenever I'm not standing or laying down or..." I was tossed unceremoniously into the chair "or... stuff" my voice trailed off into a meek whisper.
This will be enough for now, at least until I get some reviews for this story. As long as I get at least one review, I should continue. I don't expect many people to be browsing through solitaire fanfiction. Hope you enjoyed