-PHASE OPEN-
Faith hoists up a firm posture and strolls as gracefully as the term grace can get to the front door. Dee tries to hold in his laughter watching this. Now at the front door, she stops and breathes into her hand to smell her breath, just in case.
She gets ready to knock, but before touching it, the door slowly creaks open…
On the other side, a voice asks, “Ms. Roos?”
It’s an older man, a butler, about the same height as Dee. Faith nods and attempts to present the envelope with the written invitation.
“That won’t be necessary young lady. We have been expecting you...”
“My name is Hobbes, please do come in…” and he gestures for her to enter.
Faith steps in, and Hobbes begins to close the door…
*BOOF*
“AND EXPECTING DEE! AND DEE!” the boy is trying to force his entry after almost having the entire door shut in his face.
“It’s ok! He’s with me,” Faith laughs.
“…guests are fine, but mind your manners, young boy!” Hobbes fully opens the door and allows Dee to…
*BAM*
…fall to the floor.
Before Dee can eagerly give him a piece of his mind, the butler points to the top of a staircase.
“Please…the master will be waiting for you in his study.”
Faith bows and proceeds up the stairs, Dee tags along but not before sticking his tongue out at Hobbes.
As they reach the top of the stairs, they hear, “Down the hall, first door on the right!”
…
…
They have been walking longer than possible in any home they have been to before. The hallway feels like a gallery, with numerous beautiful paintings.
‘Is Mr. Lenoir an art collector as well? Are these all originals?’
Faith snickers at the prospect of charging him a “modest” fee for one of her works. They pass a few doors on the left but nothing on the right yet.
Faith says to Dee, “He said the first door on the right, but I didn’t think it would be…oh!”
*WOW*
Faith and Dee now stand in front of two gigantic doors! Faith prepares to push it open, but Dee cuts her off and shoves the doors with all his might! Harder and harder until his face turns red. It’s not budging. Faith rolls her eyes and starts pushing too.
They begin to budge…the doors open little by little. Now they are almost all the way open. The struggle is nearly over!
*CREEEEAK*
Got it!
*BAM*
And Dee faceplants on the floor of the other side!
Faith gets a chuckle out of his second tumble within the same visit. Dee, not so much.
Taking in the sights of this room...if what they saw before was a gallery..then this is a library! Books are strewn about on prominent oak shelves, but that’s admiring only one-half of the room. The other half resembles a casino. Tables for dealing cards, billiards, darts, the usual suspects.
A faint light illuminates a man watching the streets below at the edge of the room by the window. He turns around and appears to be holding a small picture frame.
It’s him! The man himself! He is of average height with slicked-back brown hair and a stark white beard. The man must be in his late thirties to early forties.
Faith runs up to him and starts feverishly shaking his other open hand.
“Mr. Lenoir! I’m thrilled to finally meet you, sir!” she begins to show more emotion.
The large doors they walked in from slam shut, shocking Dee! Jacques puts down the picture frame.
“Sorry it gets drafty in here,” he speaks!
“I hope Hobbes was pleasant when he greeted you both. I could barely wait any longer to meet you myself!”
“There was, say, an energy, a certain bravado to your words in the game you wrote to me about. Nothing else like it, not even from the other challengers!”
“I wonder if you could have bested them with your words alone?” Jacques tells Faith with a smile and a wink.
“Bra-vay-doe? Feel the energy?” chuckles Dee. Faith gives him an angry look, and he quickly shuts up.
Jacques is amused by this and offers the boy, “Please, entertain yourself! I have plenty of games.”
Dee does the opposite and goes through book after book in no time.
Jacques turns to Faith, says, “Quite youthful, isn’t he? Have a seat, Ms. Roos. We have much to discuss!” and leads her over to a table.
…
…
A few hours pass by, and it all feels completely natural. Faith and Jacques can’t stop talking. This is the most energetic she has been all day! If Faith can get over the initial nervousness about showing her game to a new player, this is the result.
As a tutor to a student, she takes care when explaining the deeper mechanics of her game to him. Accompanied by an illustrated game manual, all drawn by herself! It is called The Royal Four-Ces Expert Guide.
The passion in her eyes and voice is unmistakable! Jacques himself cannot help but feel drawn in by Faith’s radiance.
Thumbing through the pages of the Expert Guide, Jacques says, “With this level of artistry put into the design…I must know…”
“…which is more beautiful, the game or the creator?”
*WHEW*
Faith blushes an intense red.
“Hm. Hm. Sorry for embarrassing my teacher. I am genuinely impressed by your artwork. You must have a delicate touch,” he says while looking at her hands.
Faith flaunts her fingers and replies, “Ah! Ya err You think so? Papa ugh ~My father~ says that rather than a pen, my hands belong on a hatchet. HMPH!”
“That's not ladylike at all! So uncouth! Leave the wood cutting to my ~boorish~ brother!” Faith chops the air with a smug grin. She was very proud of using the word “boorish”.
Jacques chuckles, “Shall we proceed with my lesson, madam?”
“Ho-ho-ho-ho! Yes, we shall!” Faith answers with an extra smug grin.
So they carry on. Faith provides a rousing lecture on every possible example of what each card in the game can and cannot do and when.
During this, Jacques periodically glances at a large grandfather clock nearby. Faith had noticed this too, but there isn’t just a grandfather clock here. There is also a cuckoo clock with the elaborate design of a boney-looking dragon. On the wall hangs a huge mechanical clock with roman numerals.
Feeling cheeky, Faith jokes, “You must, umm, really love time…”
You could hear a pin drop.
‘AHHHHHH! THAT WAS SO DUMB!!!!!’ Faith screams internally.
Jacques quells her botched joke with a chuckle.
Faith squeaks, “...sorry if I’m boring you, sir, sometimes I get too excited when showing off my ummm game…” and twists her hair.
“Not at all! Do not apologize for passion!” Jacques reassures her.
“I was only thinking that if this takes long enough, you must stay for dinner! Hobbes can always whip up a fine delicacy for you to sample.”
*GROWL*
“Yes, we will be happy to chow down!” Dee interjects with his growling stomach.
Faith rolls her eyes again, and Jacques howls with laughter. She smiles, lets her guard down, and laughs with him.
Jacques asks, “May we move on to the practice round? Time’s a-wastin’!”
Faith nods and excitedly sets up the wooden hexagon tiles to form the War Grid. Next, Jacques chooses one of four “special” decks with card sleeves that represent each of the four playing card suits. Heart, Spade, Diamond, and Club, or as Faith prefers to call it, “Clover”. When all of their cards are in order and propped up, Faith then motions to begin.
During play, Jacques picks up on the flow quicker than Dee ever had. This learning speed and skill relieve Faith. She is not surprised. Being a well-read fan, she’s all too familiar with Jacques’ background playing among the best of the best. Their game of Royal Four-Ces presses on.
Our boy Dee has taken great interest in a variety of classic literature. The heavy bindings make for a solid foundation for the tiny house he has been constructing this whole time. He hasn’t laid a finger on the various board games or other trinkets in the room. Jacques is too preoccupied with the game to pay much heed to Dee’s antics.
…
*clack*
“Looks like a win…well, the practice round that is!” Faith says, a little embarrassed.
Jacques replies, “A win’s a win, but I think I truly understand everything better after close observation…”
“If you want to play again as per the official contest…”
“…I’m ready when you are…” he grins.
Faith reacts with a confident smile. She is indeed ready!
Jacques continues, “BUT…I want to raise the stakes…”
“…I still have close friends in game production and publishing. You know, they love meeting new people…”
Faith’s eyes widen.
“For the first time I have offered any other contestant, I will personally see to it that this game isn’t just in the papers…I want it in stores everywhere!”
Faith almost starts to cry.
“Only if you win, naturally. If you fail…well…I’m afraid you won’t want to know…” Jacques says that last part with a grave tone.
Faith feels afraid for a moment, but he immediately quells that fear with a laugh. Relieved, she shares the laugh.
He says, “All in good fun! Sorry!”
“Typically and…unfortunately, all previous players in this contest share a deep shame upon defeat. Sad, because at the end of the day, it’s only just a game…”
“Fountains of talent that I would hate to know I cut short in any way…”
Faith responds, “I didn’t plan on losing, sir. Especially after teasing me with the opportunity to take this game where I could not go on my own!”
“Give me a moment, and I’ll set things up again-"
*SWIIIIIIISH*
Faith accidentally drops cards everywhere onto the floor! When she panics at the sight of her blunder…
*clack* *clack* claaack* she also knocks dice, smallholders, and tiles to the ground!
Faith hurriedly starts to pick everything up!
“I am so sorry, sir!”
…
…
Faith almost has them all. There’s only a single card left, and she reaches for it…
…then her and Jacques’ hands meet on top…
“Oh, um, last one…” Faith blushes again.
…Jacques has not moved his hand…
“Umm…Mr. Lenoir?” Faith asks.
A bead of liquid hits her hand. She then gets a nice long look at Jacques’ face. It was sweat that had hit her hand. His face is beyond deranged.
This isn’t the same charismatic man she was playing a game with. This creep is wholly fixated on the smooth skin of her hand and is profusely sweating all over it. Jacques reaches down with his other hand. At first, Faith is not sure what to do.
He begins to caress her nails, then Jacques switches to forcefully intertwining his fingers with hers. Faith is now trying to pull away! Jacques tugs and squeezes hard enough that it is painful.
“Mr. Lenoir, that hurts, please…stop…” her voice is too quiet.
He tightens his grasp more roughly.
“LET ME GO!” Faith screams.
Dee can hear this and looks over at them. Now Faith can feel Jacques’ breath on her hand…he is leaning in closer…
“STOP!”
Faith slaps him across the face out of desperation. It knocks him out of his dumb stupor, and he finally releases her.
She waits cautiously to see what he does next. First, Jacques gently caresses his cheek…with a wild and aroused look in his eyes. Then, drooling from the side of his lip, he again prepares to reach for her hand with a weird absent-minded expression.
Disgusted, Faith jolts up.
“DEACON!”
Dee is startled at the sound of his full name.
“WE ARE LEAVING!”
Faith storms over in Dee’s direction, tears pouring from her eyes. She is absolutely humiliated.
‘Idiot! Idiot! Why! Why did I…’
‘It was too good to be true. He’s no different than the others!’
Dee peers around her side.
Faith shouts, “OF ALL PEOPLE! Is this how you treat all your guests?”
‘...or just me. Always me,’ heavy tears pour out.
Faith slowly turns towards Jacques, “If ya want to get your act together, then maybe we can discuss this another-”
*BANG*
A loud gunshot explodes across the room…a bullet penetrates deep into Dee’s chest. A short silence follows.
“…how about we discuss this now…” Jacques says while lowering a smoking gun and closing a drawer under the table.
Faith shrieks with everything she has. One would joke it would be enough to shatter the windows. If only that were true.
Jacques stumbles over to Faith with an unhinged face. Tuning out the screams of a wannabe game maker holding her dear brother. The bleeding won’t stop. Dee’s wound runs like a faucet as his shirt dampens, and he’s unresponsive.
Jacques now looms over them. Faith barely catches her breath and looks up at him. He is silent. It appears that maybe, just maybe, he has decided to grant audience to Faith’s shrill cries…
She begs, “…I’ll do what you want…but…let him go home…ok?” barely getting the words in through the tears.
He leers down at her.
Crying more, “...please…” her voice cracks.
The only sound is of the now ominous feeling ticking clocks.
“...don’t let him die…” Faith holds Dee’s head close to her chest.
“...what I want, eh?” Jacques finally responds.
He reaches to touch Faith’s lips, but she backs away and instinctively clutches Dee tighter…
Jacques clenches a tight fist. Even through the tears, Faith does not avert her gaze. Jacques squeezes his knuckles hard enough that she can hear them pop. Only for him to suddenly relax and kneel down next to her.
He whispers, “We have a very busy evening ahead of us…”
“I think it would be best if you…”
“TAKE. A. REST!”
Faith has a puzzled look on her face but is suddenly overwhelmed by the sound of a loud crunch and the room spinning. She falls unconscious to the ground with a light thud. Jacques had pistol-whipped the back of her head.
She catches one last glimpse of Dee…then…it all goes dark…
…
Jacques yanks Faith across the floor by her hair. Hobbes follows in tow by dragging Dee with him…leaving behind a trail of blood…
-CHAPTER END-
-PHASE CLOSE-
