Space-Time of Death: an Al Squires of the Protectorate Novel

Ch. 1.1: Three Classic Horror Tropes for the Price of One

"Anyone need new cards?" Ky asked, looking around the table, fulfilling her current job as dealer in this hand.

"I'll take one new card, Ky," Clint said to her as he flicked a card into the discard pile.

"I'll take one, too, luv," Rozz said, flicking in one of his in, as well. The same went for the rest of us. Except for me, but I'm getting to that shortly.

"Bah, I would be suicidal to play this hand, eh?" Prof. Pigmaeus said with a slur along with his Greek accent as soon as he got his new card; practically slammed the cards on the table as he spoke. "I fold!"

"Same here," Sylvie said as she folded her own. "This is what happens when so many play poker: the odds of getting a great hand get slimmer."

"You tell 'em, Diamond Jim and Poker Face," I said wryly to them, my eyes leaving my cards for one quick glance.

"I'm in for two," Clint said as he placed two chips in the pot.

I heard Mik grumble in an alien language too complex for human vocal cords to reproduce as ze sat behind me; folding hir hand. It was just as well. I saw hir tell: the left of hir rabbit-like ears was drooping since the beginning of this hand.

"Hard luck, luv," Rozz said as he tossed in a five-dollar chip in the ante. "I'm in for a fiver," he said casually.

In case you haven't figured it out yet, dear Readers, this particular (mis)adventure of mine began in the middle of my group's regular floating poker night; specifically, about two (subjective) weeks after my little (mis)adventure with Norah and those two cults, The Fellowship of the Divine Bulwarks and the Museumites. It was my turn to have it in my Omniopolis apartment that night, which was why Ky was there. Being my roommate, she's always invited to join when it's my turn to host. However, that's mostly in order to keep the Prof from drinking all our booze. Most of the forementioned were the usual suspects who come to Poker Night; all except Rhdy, who had to go on a mission a couple of (subjective) days prior.

The only ones who weren't part of the usual crowd that night (besides Ky) were Sylvie and Norah. Technically, Sylvie has an open invitation to our Poker Nights, but she always says she is always 'busy' with lab work whenever it's my time to host. That was, however, until she learned that Norah was going to come. Naturally, she decided to push her workload to one of her subordinates at the lab and join us. As for Norah joining, well, let's let the scene continue in order to explain that one.

"Your turn again, Norah," I said to her, keeping as stone faced as I could. Of course, little did anyone know and despite Sylvie's comment about how slim the odds were, I was holding a full house: aces full of tens. Plus, it was my turn after hers, so I was one move away from winning the hand. At least, that's what I thought at the time.

She fumbled her chips for a beat. "You know what," she said as she slid the rest of her chips into the pot. "I'm all in."

This move made everyone mutter; it made me suspicious. "You're bluffing," I said to her, staring at her over my winning hand. The others made the others mutter in agreement.

"If you think that," she said while calmly matching my gaze, "then go on and call me out on it. But then again, I could have a winning hand." We stared at each other for what seemed like ages. On the one hand, she might've been bluffing, and my full house would beat her. But on the other hand, we've only played a couple of hands; not enough time to figure out her tells. Plus, a full house isn't exactly unbeatable; there was still a chance that she could have a higher hand. I could almost feel the beard growing on my face follicle by follicle before finally cracked.

"Alright, fine!" I said in defeat, "I fold!" I folded my supposed winning hand. I looked around the table. "And I had a full house, even," I exclaimed. This made everyone else still in the game fold all at once. "Well, go on," I said to Norah, impatiently. "Show off your winning hand."