Card Number Fifty-Four

Chapter 1 | The Card that Shouldn't Be

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"Normal is just a setting on a washing machine, and boring is a fate worse than death."

— Marley Sky Rodriguez

Marley Sky Rodriguez hated the grocery store more than anything. As she trudged down the fluorescent-lit aisles, her mom's grocery list in hand, she made a mental note of everything she'd rather be doing: literally anything else. The smell of fresh produce and the distant whir of shopping carts only served to remind her how boring her day had become.

"Mom, can we hurry up?" Marley whined, dragging her sneakers along the floor. "I've got better things to do than sniff onions and pick out the ripest tomatoes."

Her mom, ever patient, simply rolled her eyes. "We'll leave when we're done, Marley. Not before."

With a dramatic sigh, Marley's eyes wandered around the store. That's when she spotted it—a pack of Uno cards sitting awkwardly on a shelf between jars of pickles and boxes of cereal. Marley's eyebrows furrowed. "Uno in the condiment aisle? Someone really needs to get their act together."

Curiosity piqued, Marley walked over to the stack, her fingers itching for something to break the monotony of the day. She picked up the top pack, turning it over in her hands. Beneath the Uno cards was a single, misplaced card—black, with the faint outline of a club. It didn't belong there. Marley's pulse quickened as she picked it up.

A game of Hearts? Marley squinted at the card. It was well-worn, the edges frayed, like it had been handled a thousand times. Her fingers ran over the face of the card, feeling an unexpected warmth. This was definitely not part of the Uno pack.

"Mom, I'm getting this," Marley announced, slipping the card into her pocket and throwing the Uno pack into the cart without waiting for a reply. Her mom didn't even glance back, too engrossed in deciding between two different brands of ketchup. 

That night, Marley tossed and turned in her bed, the strange card on her bedside table. She couldn't shake the feeling that it was important—somehow. Rolling onto her side, she finally snatched the card up, holding it under the dim glow of her bedside lamp.

"What's so special about you?" she muttered, flipping it over and over in her hand. Then, something caught her eye—a faint shimmer on the card's surface, like a reflection. Marley squinted, bringing the card closer to her face. There it was again, a fleeting glimpse of... something.

Couldn't something sometimes be nothing?

She turned off the lamp and held the card up to her face, straining to see in the dark. Then suddenly, a wave of icy-hot fear washed over her. Something.

Ba-dump.

Badump.

Th-thump, thump...

"Why, hello Marley," the girl croaked, cracked lips spreading to reveal nothing but purple stumps. Marleys didn't dare twitch a muscle, just stared at the girl in the reflection of the card.

Where were those familiar blue eyes? These pearls of sight were so grim and lifeless, as they stared back at Marley. They were staring right back then...

The girl flashed another gummy smile.

A flashback of the free gum drops in the black bowl on aisle 9 replayed in her mind. The girl pried the first one out right out, fingers stained.

Plop.

Here came the next gumdrop. "Don't be so greedy, John!" A mother scolded, in the middle of the aisle. "Only one! lets not spoil your appetite for dinner!"

Moist and gooey--the gumdrops lay in a slimy pile in the palm of the girl's pale hand. Liquid poured down the hollow black pits that were left. The red streaks ran down her grimy cheeks like strawberry syrup.

Then Marley's twin ate her eyes--chew, chew, crunch, chew...

"He, he, he, whats for dinner?" the girl rasped, coating--licking--her dry lips in saliva hungrily.