Narrative

Cards

Chicago, 1931.

The freezing night wind blew Dean’s black hair. It was a dead night. No one passed at that street. Just a poorly lit street in an abandoned area. Dean stopped in front of a shop door. The 29-year-old lad looked at a rather worn out poster. His blue eyes began to tear. He remembered about an incident which happened last week. The incident which involved Christine, his late wife-to-be.

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“Are you free this Sunday, Christine?” asked Dean.

Dean sipped his coffee served by the restaurant waiter.

“Yeah. Why?” answered Christine as she tied her long blond hair using a hair tie.

Christine’s tall figure and beauty made her very popular in her workplace. And, the fact that she was the only daughter of the town chief was just risen her popularity. She had a kind, polite, and discipline personality, despite her status as a mayor daughter.

“Will you have a dinner with me after work? At the White Swan Restaurant. I want to tell something important to you,” said Dean.

He had been dating Christine for a long time since he was a college student. Dean was also popular among his friends. He was tall, handsome, and had a calm personality.

“Sure. I’ll leave that time open for you. Oh, the lunch break is almost over. See you later, Dean!” answered Christine as she grabbed her handbag and walked away.

“Yes! Perfect!” yelled Dean in his heart.

Dean took something from his shirt pocket. A small golden ring engraved with D and C letters on the inner side. Dean ordered two pieces of it last week at his goldsmith friend.

Dean stood up from his chair and paid the bill at the counter. He kept smiling and humming on his way back to his office. His eyes caught on a poster in his office information board. A poster released by the police about a serial murder case. A really peculiar case to be happened in such a rural town. There were been 7 victims so far. The criminal always left a heart poker card in the victims’ shirt pocket. The cards were like a countdown, started from a 10-heart poker card on the first victim and a 4-heart poker card on the last victim. The victims order was peculiar, too. The first victim was a man, then the second victim was a woman, the next victim was a man, the victim after that was a woman, and so on.

“A stupid case, isn’t it? Don’t they have another thing to do other than killing people?” said a man to Dean.

Dean turned his head toward his right side. There stood a slight shorter man with green eyes smiling at him. His short haircut and clean face made him look younger than Dean although he was older in fact.

“Oh. Hey, Phil. Yeah. We still don’t know their motive and the police haven’t found a real clue either. I hope they catch the criminal immediately and we can live at peace again,” said Dean.

“Speaking of the motive. Have you thought that the motive maybe a love-related problem? Well, by looking at the heart poker cards, maybe the victims had love problems with the criminal. Or maybe the criminal had one-sided love toward the victims.” asked Phil to Dean curiously.

“No way. That’s ridiculous. Do you think the criminal love both men and women? Perhaps the criminal did that just for attracting some attention. Hahaha,” laughed Dean, walking toward his working room on the second floor leaving Phil alone.

Dean could hear Phil laughing from the staircase.

Day by day felt really slowly for Dean. He couldn’t wait for Sunday to come. And finally, the long awaited Sunday evening came.

A bright room, bunch of roses everywhere, and a romantic song gave a perfect atmosphere for some romantic dinner. Dean was sitting down, waiting for Christine impatiently despite his calm nature. He kept glancing at his Breguet on his left wrist. Sometimes, he checked on his attire. A white shirt, a black tie, and a black suit paired with black trousers was his attire that night. A great attire to propose a partner for life. He smiled, imagining a beautiful life with Christine as his wife, spending their life together with their children.

Thirty minutes had passed. Dean became worried because it was unusual for Christine to come late. Dean decided to pay his bill and went to Christine’s house.

On his way to Christine’s house, at South Prairie Ave, Dean saw a lot of people gathering near a dark alley. His curiosity drove him to approach the bunch.

“What happened, Madam?” asked Dean to a rather thin old lady wearing light blue long dress in front of him.

“A woman had been stabbed in the heart and dead. There is a card sticking out in her shirt pocket. And, she seems familiar, too, but I can’t remember,” said the old lady with a trembled voice.

Dean shocked and feeling really worried. He suddenly remembered the serial murder case. He tried to break through the bunch and hoped his fear was wrong.

Dean’s worst fear came true. The Sunday evening that should become the best day on his life had become a nightmare. His knees felt weak. He fell on his knees. Tears flowed down from his blue eyes.

“Why do this happen to you, Christine?” sobbed Dean in a weak voice. He couldn’t contain his grief.

There laid Christine on the ground with a stab wound in her chest. Blood flowed out from the wound and pooled around her body. The white blouse she worn turned red, soaked with her blood.

A young lad in black leather coat braved himself and took the card from Christine’s chest pocket. And, as expected by the bunch, it was a 3-heart poker card that had turned red partially because of the blood. Dean’s anger grew when he saw the card and swore to himself that he will avenge the criminal for Christine’s death.

Next day, a funeral held for Christine. The funeral was attended by many people including Dean, Phil, and Christine’s workmates. Dean was crying throughout the funeral and was then consoled by Phil. Although he was grateful to Phil for consoling him, Dean still could get rid the grief of losing Christine. He kept crying until he got home after the funeral ended.

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“Aaaarrrrggghh! Heeeelp!”

A loud scream woke Dean up from his daze. He wept his tears and ran toward the source of the scream. He took a gun which he bought from a black market from his trousers back pocket.

In the back of an abandoned store, Dean saw a dark figure standing, leaning his body to a broken window. Dean can saw clearly because it was rather dark. He took out a flashlight from his trousers pocket and pointed it to the dark figure. To his surprise, Dean saw someone he knew. It was Phil. Phil covered a slash wound in his right hand with his left hand.

Dean put his gun back to his trousers back pocket and rushed toward Phil. For a moments, he saw some glints of glass shards under Phil’s feet, but he didn’t mind it because he was worried about Phil’s condition.

“What just happened, Phil?” asked Dean worriedly.

Phil sat down to the ground.

“I don’t really understand, Dean. I was walking to my friend’s house and suddenly someone attacked me. I was scared,” sobbed Phil, “He also threw these two cards and running toward south,” added him. His left hand pointed to the south while holding the poker cards.

“Two? That’s strange,” said Dean as he took the cards from Phil’s hand.

“A two-heart card and an ace of hearts card. What does this means?” murmured Dean, walking slowly toward the direction that Phil just pointed, leaving Phil behind.

“I don’t know. Maybe there will be an unusual thing happen?” said Phil. He stood up and followed Dean from behind.

“Hahaha. As if it would happen,” laughed Dean.

“But, wait. Why did the criminal just slash your hand? Don’t they killed all of their previous victims?” said Dean.

“Well. I don’t know either. Maybe they did this just for attracting your attention,” said Phil, walking slowly toward Dean…with a blood-dripping knife in his left hand.

THE END