A pall falls upon the city. Perhaps it stems from the night's gentle drizzle that hints of a deluge to come later tonight. Most would lament the gathering storm, yet the rain and darkness seem appropriate to the eye of police detective John Anderson who stands now at the site of a vicious crime.

Yes, the bloody murder seems to have cast its darkness throughout the city, leaving behind a sense of foreboding danger. Worse than the death itself is the calling card left at the crime! A crimson soaked set of playing cards with a clearly marked set of Aces sitting on top. The warning they bear is clear as the fog rolling in from the edges of town- The Deck is back!

The frown that covers his face lifts only for a moment, when his partner arrives with a pack of cigarettes from the convenience store down the street. Lighting one he lets out a sigh, knowing this murder is the first of many crimes the city will face in the coming days. Not all will involve death, for each member of The Deck operates differently, but this makes each member no less dangerous to the fragile city.

Then he turns, drawn to a sound. He knows this noise well; it is a signal that he should convince his partner to leave. He had asked for the pack of cigarettes for just this reason, thinking his partner would be gone longer. For a moment his mind frantically races, grasping at solutions. Then, relief appears in the form of a stumbling curse from the recently returned policeman. "Damn, buddy I forgot my wallet back at the store, mind holding down the fort for a bit longer?"

John's amicable response for a moment takes his fellow detective off guard, he is not known as a friendly man. But the sight of John happily smoking away sweeps his momentary unease under the rug. As he retreats into the darkness, a different face appears.

Far fewer aged creases mar this youthful visage. What John can see of it that is, for the face appearing in the darkness is covered by a mask!

The diminutive figure floats forth from the shadows, her body covered by a white, skintight, suit and face obscured by a cowl and mask that extends from above her mouth to the start of her hair. 

"Shouldn't you be in bed, it's a school night." John asks wryly. 

 "Detective" a firm but young voice replies, "we both know you have no idea how old I am, so please refrain from comments like that."

John sighs again. He knows the owner of that voice is young -too young to bear the burdens of this city and face foes as dangerous as The Deck. Yet he knows all too well that power does not always go to the deserving or to those best suited to its use.

Ten years with the police have drilled this lesson deep into his psyche. Ten minutes with the girl have also taught him that deserving individuals come in small frames. This particular frame reminds him to much of his own daughter, a sophomore at St. Cecilia High. The only comfort he can take tonight is that his daughter is securely looked after at his home with his wife. Fortunately John's ruminations do not take time away from the cowled caster as her investigation of the scene involves the use of esoteric rituals best prepared in silence, even an unfriendly a silence as John's brood.

Indeed dear reader, the mysterious figure that intrudes on this somber scene is none other than Eldritch Maiden, a woman well versed in the arcane arts! Although, to look at her one would immediately realize that the title woman may not be wholly appropriate. Her diminutive stature and wavering voice betray what her actions do not. Eldritch is too young to wear the mantle of experience that dulls John's senses to the heady scent of death that permeates the alley.

Her trembling fingers complete their preparations and with a flash of brilliant light, her eyes begin to emit an unearthly glow. For a moment, the alley is bathed in light. Then all is as it was, except John's cigarette, burned in an instant to just a butte in his mouth. "Didja have to do that again?" John intones in disgust. 

A momentary smile graces Eldritch's mouth. "Obviously detective, do you imagine your daughter would be pleased to know you're smoking again?" Then the smile and accompanying mirth are gone "I've managed to turn up nothing mystic here. What did you find before I arrived?"

John thinks for a moment. If the crime isn't magical in nature, he could ask her to let the police handle it, but then this is The Deck. No matter which card turned up he knows they'll need all hands. So with a hint of regret he intones solemnly, "We don't need to be that thorough, they left us a calling card." 

 Then he casually tosses the plastic bag containing the evidence towards Eldritch, who levitates the bag down to her hand. "A set of Aces? I don't understand." 

 Again, John reflects, a reminder of her youth and innocence. "It's a set of playing cards. There's only one group that leaves those behind. This was the work of The Deck." 

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

 Momentarily caught off guard Eldritch fumbles for an answer "The Deck? I don't... I'm not familiar with them."

John grunts in reply. "Didn't think you would be. The Deck is a criminal syndicate. Real hush hush types. They're made up of fifty-two members each corresponding to a card number. Some of em got powers and some don't. The Aces, a group of four former SAPS, did this here. Not the kind of people you want to cross if you can help it. Obviously this guy," he nudges the corpse with his foot, "couldn't."

Eldritch's face crunches in confusion. "Saps? What on Earth is that?" she asks. "Also if the cops know all this why haven't they arrested them?" 

 John lights another cigarette. "Not saps, S.A.P.S. Special Anti-Powers Squad. They're an offshoot of SWAT the police use to quell your less cooperative counterparts. Just knowing who they are isn't exactly enough to take them down now is it? Especially when they've got the backing of the rest of the deck behind them. Besides we don't have an ID on these four, we're just going off what other experts assessed their combat style to be based on previous run ins." 

Eldritch straightens herself and says in a voice that projects uncertain confidence, "So let's get to brass tacks then, what do they want in the city detective?"

"Simple," he replies, "The aces are enforcers for the deck. This guy pissed off the rest of the deck somehow so they sent in those four to shake him down. Odds are we won't see the aces again for a while. But where the aces lead the deuces follow, sometimes they come in high and sometimes low. If they're feeling low, they'll rob a few places and leave behind taunting notes. If they're coming in high that means they're here for some kind of spectacle. They'll aim for the most visible and invulnerable target they can, steal, kill or otherwise find a way to sow fear in everybody and then disappear. Then the threes come and so on down the line."

"What can you tell me about the deuces then, we should try to prepare for them immediately."

"Well, they change pretty regular like, I do know that the face cards are all people with powers and the numbers are all people without. Last time they came through we nabbed one of the sixes during a diamond heist and that was enough to convince the rest of the deck to go to ground for a while. The threes usually end up robbing people. Actually until you get to the sevens you really don't see much violent crime. There's a bit of turnover in the lower numbers, enough that we can't really know what they'll do." 

 Eldritch nods confidently. 

John thinks to himself, if only that confidence were backed up by actual experience and not naive expectations.

"So," she intones, still trying to inject more confidence than she really has, "we can head all this off by stopping the deuces before they get the chance to carry out their part of this plan." 

John leans back and takes a long drag of what remains of his cigarette, "Yeah that'd be the ideal outcome," he grunts, "but we don't have a clue if they're going high or low this time around and even if we did we have no idea what they might target."

At this, Eldritch smiles and with the same confidence replies, "Not to worry detective, you may not have had the chance to keep your radio on considering the crime scene but I have. Are you aware the Bokuti Diamond is returning from its loan to the museum in our sister city tonight? I think that might be what the deuces are after, especially considering the identity of this man." 

 At this John starts, neither he nor his partner found a wallet or any other form of I.D. on the body and while identification is inevitable, managing it this fast would be a coup. "So who is he then? Don't keep me in suspense all night," he sarcastically replies.

Eldritch ignores his caustic reply and continues as though he were the soul of polite inquiry, "This man is a curator for the museum.  One I imagine was quite willing to divulge the secret route the armored truck will take to return the diamond safely." Then her face darkens, "Even unwilling I imagine the type of men the Aces are would still be able to convince him to part with his knowledge." She bends down to the body and lightly lets her fingers brush the sunken cheek before whispering with a solemn, low, tone that John has to lean in to catch. "I vow to ensure the artifacts you dedicated your life to do not end up in the hands of petty thieves." Then she rises, resuming her slight float. "Detective, return here tomorrow night with the plans for the route. I imagine you can find a way to convince the museum to share."

Then, with a whirl, the cowled caster disappears into the dark! Just in time too, as John's partner paces back from the convenience store and asks, "So, figure out anything new while I was gone?" 

 With a shake of his head at the nook where the heroine departed John turns back to his fellow detective "You know how much I like the museum right? Well let's just say that's finally paying off..."

The rest of the discussion is lost to the alley. Higher up, several blocks away, a young girl packs a school bag. Indeed, this flower of youth blooming in the night is none other than the very same Eldritch Maiden that spoke with our detective earlier. If only he had known how spot on he was when he mentioned it was a school night! And if only he knew how deep her concern ran over his daughter, for as one of her close friends our heroine daily witnesses the toll a policeman's duty takes on his family.

His smoking habit is just the surface of worries his daughter bears stoically every day. It is this casual heroism that slowly erodes Missy Anderson's spirit. So when given the chance, her friend Hailey Juniper Penze leapt at the opportunity to engage in heroism of a more spectacular sort. Hoping to help soothe the burden on Missy's shoulders by reminding the city and the police that not all powers go to those with dark hearts, some instead go to a deserving few who take up the mantle hero -or in our case heroine- who use those abilities for good. Of course, dear reader, there is more to it than just sisterly-love for a best friend! But such things remain the province of mysteries for now.

Of course, none of this matters to the nefarious members of The Deck! Will Eldritch put a stop to this reprehensible scheme or will the escalating tactics of The Deck prove too much for our heroine? Find out next week in "Deuces Run Wild!"