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Men bow down before her infinite beauty. Women scorn her in jealousy. Either way, 27-year-old Alice DeMartino is known as a prodigy of the casino lifestyle. Both into a rich family of travel agents, from the moment she could count, endless hours were spent playing card games with family and clients alike. After a strong finish at the World Series of Poker 2 years ago, she saw no real need to work a nine-to-five job, not when the cards could pay her better than any lawyer.
Chicago is one of her favorite haunts, even if it pales in comparison to Las Vegas, New York or California, in terms of casino quality. With her father being here on business, the nicest place to play poker was an hour out from the main city in Elgin, at a casino known only as the Grand Victoria. An aptly fitting name for royalty such as herself.
The night is slow and boring so far, even with the concierge staff offering her glasses of expensive champagne on the house. She has enough privilege to get into any high rollers club, but it’s thrilling to crush poker imposters at their own game. Flipping back her perfectly curled blond hair over her shoulder, Alice can’t help but smirk in between glances at her cards. Stacks of multi-colored chips sit off to one side, thousands of dollars she’s easily won by taking advantage of suckers who can’t bluff.
Boring. The game has no thrill tonight, despite how risky her bets become, the outcome is typically in her favor. Men simply do not know how to react to a well-endowed woman wearing gold and silver showing the most amount of skin allowed. Alice frowns as another stack of chips are pushed her way, flicking a set of face-down cards back to the dealer nonchalantly.
“I thought there’d be more of a challenge to this…” Mumbling under her breath, the dealer pauses for a moment as the open seat at the far end of the table is filled by a sudden newcomer. Alice takes a glance to her right, spotting a rather lanky young man, certainly in his 30’s, with jet black hair pulled back into a clean ponytail. He’s wearing a finely pressed white shirt, a red vest, and a thin black tie to wrap up the ensemble.
Unlike the other players at the table, he exudes an aura of mystery and terror all at once, something Alice is eager to see. Is he a better poker player than the rest? She’s about to get her answer as the next hand is dealt out to the 5 players. It’s hard to hide her excitement at seeing a pair of Queen’s in her hand, along with a third on the river card.
Almost immediately, the other players start dropping out, leaving here with the mysterious newcomer, who simply slides a stack of chips to raise the bet over 1,000 dollars. His narrow eyes don’t even look at the cards, nor the dealer, or anything else in the room for that matter. Where is his attention? Alice simply smirks and raises the bet once more, over 3,000 dollars, mainly to spook the dark-haired man into action.
His immediate reaction doesn’t change at seeing the increased wager, simply making the bet even higher, must to the shock of everyone else sitting at the table. And then his eyes lock onto Alice’s face, his eyes shifting from a dark blue to a sinister red. It’s certainly a trick of the light, Alice thinks to herself, blaming it on the dusty casino environment and lingering cigar smoke affecting her senses. Because when she looks over at the man again, his eyes are blue once more, staring back off into the unknown.
She’s afraid of what he’s thinking, what kind of hand he’s hiding beneath that calm facade, and the idea scares her enough that Alice pushes her cards forward, indicating a fold. The other players seem shocked by her sudden choice, but she compresses her fear and simply waits to see what the other man had. Her eyes go wide at seeing a simple pair of 6’s, one additional one in the river, giving him a weaker Three-of-a-Kind to her own.
Foolish. Staying in would’ve taken a lot of money from him, but she let her guard down. The next hand would be different though, a redeeming chance to beat this stoic jerk into oblivion. It never happens. Each hand always ends in her defeat, watching as her stack of chips slowly migrates to the other side of the table. Most players simply get our of the way so Alice can duke it out with the dark-haired man, but his movements confuse her. Random bluffs and legitimate hands slip past her senses, years of playing poker wiped away in minutes, making her look like a drunk toddler.
She’s left with a mere 1,000 dollars to her name, multiple losses, and a permeating sense of failure when the mysterious man steps up from the table to cash out. Beating her ego is one thing, but not letting her get a chance to win back all that money is insulting. Standing up quickly, she reaches out and grabs her shoulder forcefully.
“You’re not going anywhere until I win back my money.”
“It’s never been about the money, has it? To you, this is just a game that needs to be won, and you’re upset that someone finally gave you the challenge you wanted.” His blue eyes are looking part her, not one bit of attention is given to her looks or charm. Alice frowns, letting go of his should, but follows close behind.
“Do I at least get your name?” It’s frustrating to be staring at his back, but once they’re out of the busiest portions of the casino, he stops to turn and face her once more.
“Brad. You don’t want just my name now, correct? I’m a fan of games myself, but every opponent I’ve met so far has been boring. Are you going to be different?” He smirks at her, holding out his player’s card, containing thousands of digital dollars that were stolen from her tonight.
Boredom brought her here, and now, someone is offering to take it away. Alice reaches for the card but with a quick flick of the wrist, it disappears instantly. She’s seen enough Vegas shows to know that Brad has some aptitude and understanding of magic. Amidst the noisy slot machines and talking crowds, she manages to whisper something under her breath. “...I want a challenge.”
“I can certainly offer you that, my dear! When you’re with me, the game will never be boring!” He reaches out and shakes her hand confidently, causing Alice’s face to blush quickly. Without missing a beat, he’s already leading her to the front doors, where a long white limousine is waiting.
“I’d like that a lot, Mr. Brad.” She slips into the limousine’s back seat, the dark-haired enigma taking a seat across from her. He’s already reaching for a bottle of liquor, pouring both of them a glass of brandy. Alice doesn’t even see him slip the discreet sleeping drugs into her drink, and hardly thinks anything is amiss well after downing the booze.
It’s only a few minutes later that he vision fades, sleep overtaking her, and seeing Brad’s form hover over her limp body.
----
“I thought there’d be more of a challenge with you, Ms. April…”
There’s a hint of disappointment in Brad’s filtered and manipulated voice, as he sits in a chair mere feet away from his newfound ‘friend’. He taps a set of index cards against a nearby table, staring with disdain at April. She’s tied up neatly in a bolted metal chair, mouth gagged to prevent screaming, her elegant face now covered with dripping red blood. In her bound hands, sans one missing finger, is a yellow knitted doll made to look like an octopus.
“When I saw you, I thought you’d be good at games, given your history of being a professional poker player. But I’m starting to think you’re nothing more than a lustful little whore who likes taking advantage of people. I rarely play trivia games with one on one anymore as well, so I made the exception for you.” He sighs, dropping the trivia cards onto the table facedown, walking over to a large wheel against the back wall. Adorned with different colored panels, there’s an alarming amount of skulls printed on the wood.
“From what I’ve learned, people like you hate elements of luck. Let’s see how yours is, shall we?” With a joyous pull, the wheel begins spinning at a fast rate, April’s eyes become dizzy at watching the colors merge and blend together in rapid succession. Finally, the wooden roulette stops moving, its plastic stopped resting on a large skull slice.
“Ah, well...Them’s the breaks. Luck isn’t a lady tonight.” He laughs, pulling a small box out of his pockets, where a large yellow switch awaits. Suddenly the metal chair makes sense, along with the large set of wires leading to an electric generator behind her.
This is what she was wanting in the end, a new challenge to excite her. It only took a high voltage chair, the scent of charred flesh, and her untimely death to help her reach that illustrious threshold.