Deion struggled to make a living in Chicago his entire life up until that night. The same night everything changed: went wrong, but also went so right. He ran into a Jack, who turned him into an Ace. As so, he now serves the king, but also has autho...
Deck = A group. (to anyone else, a gang). Cards = Members of that deck / group. Solitaire = A battle (or race) between the decks to riches and completion. Oath = The swear to keep what happens in the game, in the game.
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Deion's Pov. When I blindly waltzed into the warehouse, I didn't think anyone was there, or that that old-beat-up ass raisin had given me the wrong address.. until I turned the right corner and I started to hear people talking about certain moves and missions, see.
Now— there were more than 7 voices and I damn sure can't fight 10 people. So as I walked in, I pretended to clear my throat to make my presence known.
The people I saw in there collectively looked like a damn chorus class. I noticed jack there, too, but my eyes weren't on anyone but that old man. He's the only one who seems to have anything close to a solution to my problems.
He'd told me to follow him and I did. We started to walk down a sidewalk and I sighed after 'bout 5 minutes, furrowing my eyebrows. The chances of the oldie separating me from the others to kill me off were low, but never 0. My mind drifts off and all I can think about is how well I can handle myself in those situations.
I wanted one thing. Money. Not a walk with another dude who was on the verge of dying of old age in 6th months.
He chuckles when he notices my boredom and frustration.
"Tell me, Deion. Do you know how to play solitaire?", He questions me. Like a normal person would, I squint my eyes at him. When I do this I notice he looks a lot younger without all the wrinkles. This is exactly why I stay away from the pale, wrinkly raisins. It takes everything in me to just sigh shake my head.
"Nah, man. I don't.", I respond, shoving my hands in my pockets. "Look–",
"Solitaire... is a one player game. There's one man in charge, yes?", He side eyes me as he talks, his finger in the air like the monopoly man. I would curse him out for cutting me off but I like where this conversation is going. I bite back my snickers in respect for the man, nodding and motioning for him to keep going with a now straight face.
"...And we know the goal of the single-player card game is to get rid of your cards and build the deck into a sequence. By suit from ace-through-king. The game is won when the whole deck of cards is built into the foundation.", He continues.
I nod. "Yeah. I know there's a king for every symbol, or sum'n. What are you getting at?" He smiles, and I swear to myself there's a glint of mischief in his eyes. "What if I told you... six.. less fortunate neighborhoods in chicago have someone called a Jack, or a Jester. Their jobs are to introduce people they find suitable to the game. The 'game' is over as soon as one deck has all their cards. However, the other decks will become jealous and bitter, doing their best to eliminate that perfect deck from the game to re-start it.", He says.
I nod along. "So.. the 'man in charge' is a lonely-ass that created a more humanized version of the squid games. Do the... 'cards 'at least get paid? Does the deck collect revenue?", I can't help but ask. This man just told me that four groups of poor people are playing a card game of life or death. My adrenaline must still be pumping and i'm not hearing correctly, or something. Right?
Or did I die back then with Von, and this is just the afterlife?
If that's the case,
i'm in hell.
"That's what i'm getting at. Each hand, or deck, will go on missions to receive revenue and new cards. Around the world, they will be known as gangs. The people inside of knowing of the game will be known as their card number and symbol. and you... I'd like you to be my Ace.", He finishes.
My eyes shoot open. I caught a migraine from realization. His diamond tatttoo. What jack told me her name was. Jack's hint's. His scars. The people with diamond tattoos back at the warehouse. "Your what? I'm not participating in none of dat there. I'm not interested in playing cards.", I finish with a scoff and a facepalm. I've come this far for this nigga to ask me to participate in hood field day.
I finally look around and we're walking in a quiet, isolated neighborhood. I feel drawn to the fact that I don't have any memories on these corners– but others might have some. – Like their family dying, or tragic accidents. These thoughts pass through my mind as we walk past dried blood on the concrete. I step over it, knowing I wouldn't know what it felt like to watch a loved one take their last breath.
My mom and brother are already dead.
"Oh, but I know of your situation well. Your.. recent situation.", He smirks. My green eyes flick up to his through a space I've created in my fingers. I want to punch him in his shit. If he knew what was happening, why didn't he help? Why'd he let Von get humiliated like that?
"Deion. As the ace of Diamonds, you'll make the most money. Thousands- hundred thousands. You'll be the only one able to go on sole missions if you so choose. You'll call the shots on those missions, and hell, you'll have the most authority even outside of those missions. I'm sure a man like you likes both authority and money.", He coaxes. I don't need anymore coaxing. Just money. I stand up straight and sigh, tired of talking.
"Man.. My whole life i've made my own decisions. And they all led me up to this point. I'm hoping this one decision leads me to paradise. So quit rambling. I'll play your game. I just want the money, and if you can't provide what I need when I need, It's gonna be real nice to meet you the next time I do.", I say as Marcelo outstretches his hand.
